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#do you even know? do you know how much he lies? half truths and dodging questions keeping himself out of peoples minds
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mentally ill about joe during chapter 9. the way the act just drops. there is nothing cooler than a character suddenly letting go of a facade
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ellephlox · 1 year
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Lie Detector
Pairing: Matt x f!reader
Summary: Matt thinks that you can't successfully lie to him. The only way to settle the dispute is to challenge one another to a bet, but trying to deceive a human lie detector isn't quite as easy as you'd expect.
A/N: Finally on summer break and I've had time to do some writing. I'm really drawn to a reader/matt dynamic that's super competitive, so... here we are, with yet another "game". Hope it's alright!
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Sometimes, having a lie detector as a boyfriend sucked.
You realized this early on, when all of the sudden the white lies that you told habitually in order to protect others' feelings crumbled into a big dust cloud of useless whenever Matt heard them.
Last week at supper, for instance. Matt had cooked a beautiful meal — homemade rolls, oven-roasted vegetables, and your favorite pasta — and it was all delicious. Except for one experimental vegetable thrown in that you were... less fond of, to say the least.
But of course he asked you if you liked it, of course he did.
"It's incredible," you told him, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "The pasta is cooked perfectly. Also, homemade rolls? I mean, these can't even compare to the local bakeries. It's all really good, Matt."
"And the... new vegetable?" he asked, taking a bite.
Shit.
You sat stock still for half a second, your mind whirring. Fortunately, you'd gotten better at dodging situations where typically you would just save yourself with a white lie, but with Matt, there was rarely a safe way out of a question.
"It's got such a unique flavor!" you said warmly. Truth. "I don't think I've ever had it before. Where'd you get the recipe?"
"Foggy's sister. It is unique," he agreed. "You like the taste?"
Damn it. Something told you that Matt suspected you didn't like it; why else would he be so persistent about asking? "It's so unexpected," you hedged. "You cooked it really well."
Which was also a truth. The texture was good, at least; Matt had roasted it perfectly. It was the flavor you were less keen on, and you had to fight the urge to drink water after every bite.
Matt's lips turned upwards. "Sweetheart, you don't have to choke it down for me."
From there, everything unraveled. "I love it," you tried to say, but Matt's eyebrows were raising and you yourself could feel that your heart was speeding up. "Really! I love it, it's fantastic—"
You loaded your fork with it, preparing to take a large bite out of a manic desire to ensure Matt didn't find out the truth, but he deftly reached forward and grabbed your wrist. "Lost cause, Y/N." His thumb grazed your wrist, as though to match the sensation of your pulse to what he could hear.
You reluctantly put the fork down. "Come on, Matt, stop reading me for once! You cooked a beautiful supper and I want you to know how much I appreciate it—"
"You can appreciate it while letting me know you don't like a certain type of food. I promise my ego isn't dependent on a single vegetable."
"But I feel bad!" you protested. "And with anyone else, I would have just lied and said it's amazing, but with you, I have to be a schmuck about it!"
"You're not a schmuck."
"Matt, I'm a schmuck." You pointed at yourself. "Terrible, horrible, no good, very bad schmuck. Plus, it's unfair. I'm sure you lie to me all the time, and I probably just don't even notice it. Like last week, when I asked you if I have a nice voice to listen to and you told me that me that it's music to your ears, or some crap like that."
"It is music to my ears."
"I call bullshit. Unless by 'music' you meant death metal or country."
"So start lying to me," Matt said, his fingers absently moving up your forearm. "If you're able to control your nervousness when you do it."
"Is that a challenge? I'm sensing a challenge."
Matt was smiling now, and it wasn't his charming smile, it was what you thought of as his shit-eating grin. "Aw, let's not call it a challenge. I know how upset you get when you lose."
"That's it." You slapped his hand away from your arm. "Prepare to be lied to. Constantly. And if I succeed, and you don't notice that I've lied to you, then you have to..." You thought for a moment. "You'll have to wear your Daredevil suit to Foggy's when we have dinner with him and Karen on Sunday night."
Matt's smile dropped instantly. "Why the hell would I do that?"
"Um, obviously because it would be hilarious seeing you uncomfortable, and Foggy and Karen would take some awesome pictures of you?"
He grit his teeth as though contemplating. "Fine. And if I win, and I notice every lie, you can go through all of the old archives sitting in Karen's filing cabinet at Nelson and Murdock and make copies so that they can all be organized by legal topic as well as by date."
"What? How is that fair? That's hours of my time!"
"I thought you said you were confident that you'd win?"
"Well. Yeah." You leaned over to playfully shove at him. "Okay, then. I'm in."
"But if you actually are apprehensive about this bet, then we don't have to do the challenge. I won't hold it against you."
Bold way to throw down the gauntlet, Matt. There was no backing out now. "Nope. Deal accepted," you said, and stood up to clear the plates. "Oh, and by the way, I don't get 'upset' when I lose. I'm a fantastic loser."
"Lie," Matt said, almost lazily.
Damn.
That was how it began. Of course, together you enumerated more rules, both printed and in braille, and posted them on the fridge.
Rule Number One: A lie had to be the subject of whatever you were talking about. It couldn't be a throw-away comment unrelated to the conversation itself, nor could it be anything so minor that it didn't even matter. It was forbidden to, for example, tell Matt about your day and say green shirt when you were actually referring to a blue shirt and count that as a lie. It had to stand on its own, loud and proud.
Rule Number Two: You had forty-eight hours to complete the challenge. Which, admittedly, didn't give you a lot of time. Matt was on his guard every time you opened your mouth, which meant you'd have to be strategic about this, if you wanted to win.
Rule Number Three: The lie had to be delivered in heartbeat earshot. That meant you couldn't lie to him through text messages or a long distance phone call.
Rule Number Four: If Matt falsely accused you of lying more than twice, then you won. You argued this rule in as a safeguard; otherwise, he could call out your lies on whims without any consequences.
And, finally, Rule Number Five: A lie had an expiration on it of ten seconds. If Matt didn't name the lie within ten seconds of you delivering it, then you won. You had even argued for more time, but it was Matt who had told you, with a particularly cocky wave of his hand, that he'd sense it within that time.
Several times you had tried lying to him since the start of the challenge. Each time, he'd sniffed it out immediately — almost instinctively, even — so that it was almost embarrassing at how readable you were.
"You heading out tonight for patrol?" you asked him when you emerged from the shower that night, wearing only a tee of Matt's and a towel around your head.
"Only for a bit. I've got to catch up on some paperwork this evening."
"Anything I can help with?"
"No, it's just prep for my opening next Wednesday." Matt tilted back in his chair, stretching with a restlessness that told you he'd much prefer to be out on the rooftops than reading through paperwork.
"Well, let me know if there's anything I can do," you said, and then added the lie: "I'll go do some reading, then."
Matt didn't hesitate. "What're you really going to be doing?"
You scrunched your nose at him, irritated. "And I thought I was so nonchalant. My heart is a traitor. Slow down, you." You slapped at your upper chest and lied again. "I actually wanted to do some online shopping. I need a new pair of sunglasses."
"No, you don't."
You released a dramatic exhale. "Fine! I'm going to journal a bit."
Matt listened for a moment, and then nodded, clearly placated. "I'll come say bye before I head out."
And then you even thought that you might get him when he came back, because it was past two in the morning and he'd taken a faster shower than usual — an indication he was anxious to get to bed —but when he crawled under the covers, apparently he was still on guard.
"Come in closer," you whispered, half-asleep yourself despite your hope of lying to him. "I meant to stay up for you, but I fell asleep."
Which wasn't true, even though you did often stay up for him. Tonight you had slipped into bed and fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow.
But Matt caught it; his hand nudged at your arm to acknowledge the lie. "Even this late, you're still trying to win the bet?"
Loopholes in the rules were hard to find, you realized. Matt seemed to appreciate your attempts to bypass them the next day — in fact, the closest you came to successfully lying was that morning, when you had about thirty-two hours left in the challenge. You had left to pick up bread for breakfast, and had just stepped out onto the street when you put your plan into action and dialed Matt's number.
Because technically, here on the street, right below the apartment, Matt could still hear your heartbeat, if he sought it out. But you hoped that if you were talking with him over the phone, then he wouldn't pay attention, and that he'd be distracted by the background fuzz of the call.
"Hey," you said, walking slowly down the sidewalk; you didn't want to be accused of leaving the earshot radius. "I just got a text from Foggy. He asked if I could bring that book I was telling him about the other day to dinner tomorrow night. Is it still on my dresser or did I return it to the library? I can't remember."
It was a clever lie, you thought. You had told Foggy about the book, and he did text you about bringing it to dinner. You did, however, specifically remember leaving the book on the dresser and not bringing it to the library the other day. It wasn't violating Rule Number One, either, because the question you asked Matt pertained directly to the lie.
There was a brief noise on the other end of the line as Matt presumably cocked his head, sweeping his senses out for a book on your dresser. In your head, you counted down the time. Ten... nine... eight... seven... six...
"The thick one?"
"Yeah."
Four... three... two...
"Lie," he said suddenly, and you could hear the smile on his face. "Nice try. Almost got me on that one."
"Crap," you said, sighing and adjusting your jacket as you picked up the pace, crossing the street after taking a quick glance left and right.
"If the lie hadn't been about a book, I wouldn't have thought to listen to your heart," he continued. "You care too much about your books to not know whether you've returned one to the library or not."
"Crap," you said again, but this time it was because the convenience store was closed; you'd have to go a couple blocks further to the larger supermarket. "Matt, I'm going to take a few minutes longer. The store's not open until nine."
Matt was quiet for a moment. "If that was a lie, that doesn't count. I can't hear your heartbeat from here."
"Nope. It's the truth. Anything else you want me to pick up while I'm at the grocery store? Ibuprofen, Advil, ice packs?"
Matt answered, but you didn't hear; an idea was formulating in your mind. "Sorry?" you said after a moment, picking up your pace as rain began to fall.
"Just more tea, I think."
"On it. See you in a bit," you said, and hung up.
Rule Number Four, you realized, was your ticket to winning. If you could get Matt to call you out on a lie when you weren't lying — and if you could get him to do it three times — you'd win.
So, the trick was to get your heart rate going at precisely the right moment. You left the grocery store with bread, tea, and a large espresso from the café next door.
And, miraculously, it worked. You walked in, your heart already feeling a bit more spry since you downed much, much more caffeine in the span of five minutes than you typically had over the course of an entire day, announced to Matt that the grocery store had been strangely busy today, and—
"Lie," he said, almost without even paying attention.
"Ha!" you said triumphantly, setting the bread down on the counter. "Wrong, Murdock!"
His brow furrowed. "What?" You could see him reaching out with his senses now, seeking what his mistake was, and...
"Espresso," he said, so quietly and forlornly that you laughed. "Damn. Your heart is racing."
"Brilliant, right? The grocery store really was packed." You waved the bread at him. "I'm starving. Can we make French toast with this?"
"Yeah. And don't get too happy yet, sweetheart. You haven't won yet."
"And there's the key word: yet," you reminded him.
Matt was on guard after that, so you waited the rest of the day before trying again; too often, and each effort would be futile. You could tell he was listening with far more diligence every time you spoke, and while it was slightly unnerving knowing that your heart rate was under constant scrutiny, it was worth it. Matt felt threatened that you would win. Even if you didn't end up winning the bet, that gave you enough pleasure to make the entire game worthwhile no matter what happened.
Step Two was getting Matt to watch a horror movie. You were a bit limited in your options, since Netflix didn't have many scary movies with audio descriptions available, but you agreed on one eventually and started it only once the sun had set.
And you waited. Waited, with Matt's arm wrapped around you, watching the movie and letting yourself get absorbed in it, because you were relying on your own natural adrenal responses to secure you the next false lie through Rule Number Four.
Fortunately, it was actually terrifying, so it didn't take much effort for you to feel a chill genuinely running up your spine.
"A door slowly creaks open," the audio description narrated. "The bathroom mirror suddenly swivels open. Standing in the reflection is a dark figure."
You physically jumped — thank you, jump scare — and seized the opportunity as your heart beat doubtlessly spiked. "Matt, I found some fan fiction that people posted online about the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. And I read it. Every last bit."
Matt's confusion was so palpable that you had to bite back a laugh. He reached over for the remote and paused the movie, his head tilted. "This feels against the rules."
"And yet, it's not," you said, rubbing his arm. "So, was that a lie? Or not? I'll give you a solid ten seconds starting now to answer."
"You can't just say something insane at the very moment your heart rate jumps from a movie!"
"Tick, tock."
"I've said it before and I'll say it again — you'd make a good lawyer."
"Aw. Thank you. Five. Four. Three."
"Come on!"
"Two. One."
"Lie," he decided, his jaw tight. "And for your sake, I truly hope it's a lie, because there better not be people writing fan fiction about me—"
"Sadly, it's the truth, Matt. Both that people have written it and that... I've..." You trailed off at the look on Matt's face. "Uh, that I might've possibly glanced over some of it."
"Please tell me there's not much of it."
"Um... well, there's a fair amount. People are fascinated by real life vigilantes, I guess. If you wanted you could always sue them for defamation."
"Sue? Sue as Daredevil? Show up to court wearing the suit?"
"Better yet, hire Nelson and Murdock as your lawyers, and you can switch back and forth during the trial between your lawyer suit and Daredevil suit, playing both roles. It'd be hilarious, like a real-life Mrs. Doubtfire moment."
"You find all this so amusing, don't you?" Matt tipped you back, his hands against the back of the sofa and caging you in. Goosebumps pricked up your arms as you glanced at his forearms; he'd rolled up his sleeves, and you could see the toned muscle in the dim lighting.
"Not at all," you said, your voice a bit higher.
"Lie," he breathed out, and leaned in to kiss you.
The next day passed, with every hour sliding by and bringing you nearer to the end of the bet. Once again you didn't dare press your luck, and chose to instead act naturally. The following morning and midday passed without only one or two halfhearted attempts to lie. ("Matt, did you hear that Captain America is starting up his own jazz band and he's going to be doing a world tour?" "Yeah, I did, right after the news segment announcing Black Panther's new clothing line of lingerie that he's founded.")
The loophole of Rule Number Four, however, was proving to be no longer viable as your winning method. Matt caught on to every truth that was meant to make him accidentally call you out on lying. In desperation you even did fifty jumping jacks to raise your heart rate, to Matt's amusement, but he had somehow latched onto the subtle difference between a heart rate raised by the adrenaline of exertion as opposed to the adrenaline of a lie.
So — you'd have to brainstorm instead.
With only about an hour to go until the bet ended, you set your alarm on your phone to go off just three minutes shy of the actual forty-eight hour mark.
The only challenge now was making sure Matt didn't check his own watch between now and the alarm.
"Time's almost up," he said, with the audacity to smirk at you, catching your arm as you went by him towards the bedroom. "Where are you headed?"
"To get something presentable on for supper," you said, gesturing down at your outfit.
"Karen and Foggy wouldn't mind if you showed up wearing that."
"I love you, Matt, but I look like a clown right now. I wish you could see the color combinations I've got going on. Think blue raspberry slushie dumped on top of black raspberry ice cream."
"Well, if you're changing, then what should I wear?" he said, mockery edging his voice. "That plaid shirt you got me? A white top? Or a sweatshirt? Y'know, since I won't be wearing the Daredevil suit, of course."
"Don't speak too soon. We still have a few minutes left." The bet still had five minutes, in fact; but the alarm would go off on your phone in two minutes. On a sudden whim you wrapped your arms around him, loosely holding your hands together around his neck as though you were about to slow dance together. Matt's hands naturally went to your waist, fingers grazing your hip bones. "If, in the extremely unlikely case that I do lose, you should wear your loose-fitted button-down from your birthday last year."
"Is that too fancy?"
"I don't think so. I'll be wearing a sundress. It's casual enough."
Matt spun you around, backing you into the wall. His eyes were intense, unblinking. "I know you're trying to keep my attention off of you. It's not going to work. I know you too well."
"Maybe you know less about me than you think," you challenged him.
"I doubt it."
"You'd be surprised, Matt. I've got secrets and ways of keeping them."
"Want to play that game, love? Because I can play that game." He tilted up your chin with his left hand. "That mosquito bite on your neck is still itching you, even if you've resisted scratching at it. You've still got the taste of mint in the back of your throat from when you brushed your teeth a few hours ago." His hand left your chin and brushed at your temple. "You got dehydrated this morning and had a headache, but it's gone away now. And your blush is practically a heat lamp right now, getting hotter with every second."
"Point taken," you muttered, but Matt wasn't finished.
"Down here," he continued, his hand now trailing down to your lower arm, "there's a bit of residue from the jam you got on your forearm during breakfast."
"I washed it off!"
"And I can still smell it." Matt lightly let go of you. "I could continue, if you'd like."
And then — your phone buzzed out a loud jingle, jolting both of you simultaneously. You fumbled in your pocket for your phone, shutting off the alarm. "Shit."
"Time's up," Matt said, with far too much pleasure in his voice. "I'm looking forward to spending a day at the office with you. Maybe we go in on the weekend?"
"Saturday I'm free," you said, as casually as you could possibly muster. "On Sunday I'm visiting a friend."
Which was a complete lie.
And Matt...
Didn't notice.
"We'll go in early," he said. "I had to go in this weekend anyway to get work done."
"Mm," you said, counting down the ten seconds in your head. "And I'm assuming you wanted me to help organize the files so that you wouldn't have to go into the office alone this weekend? This was all a ploy to get some company?"
"Of course. What kind of weekend would it be if I didn't get to spend it with my favorite person?"
"Foggy will take offense to that."
"Well, maybe I'll invite him too. And Karen. We can have a whole work-weekend at Nelson and—"
"Yes!" you shouted, so loudly that Matt tensed, as though scanning the room for a threat. "Get your suit on, Matt!" Without waiting for his answer you strode to the closet and pulled out the familiar red suit and mask. "A certain swindled devil now needs to make his appearance at a certain dinner party tonight."
Matt's expression was baffled. "But I won."
"Check your watch."
His fingers immediately felt for his watch, and then his face dropped. "You set the alarm early."
"And then proceeded to successfully lie about visiting a friend on Sunday. Oh, I can't wait to see Karen and Foggy's reaction when you arrive on the fire escape, dressed to the vigilante nines—"
"I can't believe you."
"Me either," you admitted. "I was getting nervous towards the end."
"I can't believe you," Matt repeated. "You're going to pay, sweetheart. That was playing dirty."
"Enjoy your retribution sometime else," you told him, tossing the mask over. He caught it, plucking it from the air without turning his head in the slightest. "We've got a dinner party to go to."
And maybe you'd still go into the office that weekend to help him out, you decided, a bit of guilt still stirring inside you, because he did just want you to be there with him, keeping him company.
After all, having a lie detector for a boyfriend really wasn't so bad.
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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serenit-teas · 8 months
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This is the product of too much brainrot and an almost concerning level of needing to ramble.
Major spoilers for Lies of P under the cut!!
Okay but just imagine, someway somehow being young friends with Carlo, sweet and darling childhood friends. Being his partner in crime, an unwilling (so you say) accomplice to any mischievous schemes he's cooked up. Racing about the streets of Krat, dodging this way and that, weaving through the alleyways and corners with a second natured ease due to each and every prior antic you two have had.
I imagine that only after narrowly dodging the poor soul who gave chase to you both has finally given up, does Carlo turn to you, a cheeky but rosy grin thrown your way. You can only huff and turn your head, complaining at once again being dragged into another one of his hair brained plots. 'This is the final straw', you think to yourself, 'no more of these chases'. Always the voice of reason you called yourself, the only one who cares enough to keep the two of you out of scuffles and minimizing consequences. The other half of your duo would simply angle his brows, matched with a boyish smile, brown eyes warm, a teasing call of, 'Worry wart', aimed your way.
You'd stay firm in your silence.
Seconds of the silent treatment turns to minutes, and you truly could have lasted longer, but the floor is uncomfortable and your legs are going numb, and it certainly doesn't help that Carlo keeps shuffling around in the already cramped space. You know what he's doing, trying to goad you into breaking your 'punishment' and demanding he knock it off. It takes all you have not to heave a sigh. It truly makes you wonder how you've both become such good friends.
Finally having enough of your hiding spot and the scuffing of Carlo's shoes, you turn your head, relenting. And he's close. Far to close. Clearly he's never once heard of personal space, face in your personal bubble. A startled yelp is ripped from your lips and you scramble back, knocking your back into the wall.
He doesn't have the decency to even attempt to hide his snort of laughter. 
A menace to the core, mischievous Carlo.
You want to be peeved, annoyed at his inability to take anything seriously. But you see the joy in his smile and hear the way his laugh rings loud and true, gaze fond and sweet directed your way and soon enough you're laughing as well, giggling and smiling. Stomach aching, 'It hurts' , echoing somewhere in your head. It doesn't matter though, not when your head feels light and your cheeks warm. Tears welling at the corners of your eyes as you gasp for breath.
It's a simple and sweet bond, crafted out of trust and comfort, familiarity and warmth.
-
The news of his death rattles something terrible in you. A hollow, numbing feeling pools, spreading like tar, thick and heavy in your body. Fog building in your head, an anchor on your tongue. He's died, and with that has taken something of yours with him. They call it 'mourning', you've learned, something people do when a great loss is suffered. Meant to process grief and what was taken far too early. To cope, live on despite. 
Whispers of sympathy and prayers permeate the streets, details of the accident are few and talk of honoring his life are fewer. Carlo and his fate hang over the city of Krat.
Haunts you. 
Far too young are you to feel such a cruel twist of fate, the unsettling truth of what happens to everyone and everything. Something changes, curdles in your chest when made way to grieve. He's left you behind with the knowledge of the irrefutable.
Hours turn to days which bleed into weeks, and soon tragedy is washed away with the  rainstorms that berate the city. Between the haze in your mind and the bustling murmur of the crowded streets, it's a miracle that you hear the call of your name.
He approaches you in the streets little more than a month after the news broke out, a light spring in his step. For a corpse, he seems plenty lively. Bright grin plain as day on his face, freckled cheeks scrunching with that familiar mischief swimming in his blue eyes. 
But Carlo is gone. Cold and dead, mourned and missed, and you don't know who this is. You look a little harder, gaze sharper.
Blue. Wrong. Fake. 
Get away.
You reel back with your heart thumping wild, ignoring the confusion that shows on his face, tears forming with a barbed response on the tip of your tongue and an awful ringing buzzes in your ears. What a sick joke. 
Eyes still glued to the stranger, you step back. Slow at first, timid and careful, all before bolting away, ears picking up on the squawk of surprise sounding behind you.
You don't know where you're going. There's no plan in escape, you just have to get away from whatever that was. You barely have it in you to call out apologies for the people you nearly bump into. Your legs carry you between tall buildings and hidden corners of the streets, ducking and weaving, narrowly avoiding clipping your shoulder on the hard stone and splintering wood. Before you know it, you recognize the similar darkened streets that you had used in your own escapes with Carlo so many times before.
This part of the city was always dim, secluded and safe, street lights had not yet been installed around these areas, much to the frustration of those who lived in these parts. It never took long for a blanket of darkness to fall over the buildings and homes when the sun began it's descent and shadows would set just right.
Heartbeat drumming in your ears and chest aching, you reach blindly, feeling for a wall to lean your weight on. Panting, hunched over and gulping air down like a fish desperate for water. Head numb and mind humming with exhaustion.
'What was that? Some elaborate scheme? A prank?'
Any further thoughts are halted when you notice the pounding of footsteps behind you. Calculated and heavy, he, it, knows where you are. Probably followed you the whole time.
It's close, and with dread making it's home in your veins do you realize that you've nowhere left to go, you've lead yourself to a complete dead end. That fake will round the corner any minute and you'll be a sitting duck.
The sound of footfalls slows the closer it gets, you'd almost call it hesitant if you weren't scared out of your wits. Steps echo between the corridor walls, that awful, full body shake inducing panic shoots through you once more, an ice cold fear nestling deep in your bones.
'Leave me alone. He's gone. Please stop.' Stress plucks at your fears like an instrument, each strum yanks at your heart, leaves you anxious and paralyzed.
Had your heart not been hammering in your chest and pulse thrumming in your fingertips, you'd probably feel much more self conscious about the whimper that leaves your lips, weak and pitiful. Loud. Palms fly to your mouth, your hands clamping tight with a sting. Eyes screwing shut in fear.
The steps halt altogether, the only sounds you can register is the beat of your heart and the shallow, rapid breaths leaving your lips. It's cramped and cold where you are, jagged stone digging into your back.
A few feet away you hear a breath catch in someone's throat, and like earlier, a call of your name, only this time it's said with as much tenderness as a lullaby. Gentle. Soothing. Your eyes twitch just for a moment. It's unfair, using Carlo's voice like that. You know if you look there will be no going back, no denying what's happening. 
You hear the call of your name ring out one more time, small and fragile, and you open your eyes. 
There he stands, confusion clear on his face, brows loosely raised and lips set into a small frown. Taking your subtle acknowledgment as encouragement it looks as if he intends to close the distance between you, though the hope is quickly dashed when he sees you scramble at his advance, pushing yourself as far as you can go into the corner furthest away from him. You remind him of a wounded animal, an uncomfortable feeling clambers in his chest at the thought and his frown deepens.
A different approach is what he goes for this time, slowly, at a snail's pace, does he reach his arm out. Even in your manic state you still manage to toss an incredulous look his way, taking every bit of his common sense and resolve to not laugh at the expression. He'll gladly take whatever he can get, he'd do anything to prevent that fearful gleam in your eyes, squash any chance of being the cause of it himself.
You both stay in this standstill for what feels to be an eternity, eyes locked and unwavering, waiting to see who will crack first. A genuine gasp leaves his lips when he sees you reach out, shaking fingertips lightly brushing against his own. This is your call, he will follow your lead in this dance. 
Finally, you stand to your full height and at a much slower pace does he do the same, and then you're back to staring at him, eyes flicking about his person this way and that, analysing everything. Normally he'd say you're overreacting, call you a 'worrier ' and be done with it, but he knows better. You've changed, something has happened to you in his month's absence and he doesn't like it one bit, you stare at him like he's a stranger, ran as if he'd flashed a weapon from underneath his sleeve.
So wrapped up in his own thoughts, he barely catches what you've said to him, mind struggling to put the puzzle pieces together. Ever the merciful out of your duo, you repeat yourself,
"What are you?".
'Huh.'
-
(Basically!!!! What if Carlo still perished, and P was still built to replace him, and Geppetto, in a frantic and guilt ridden haze builds a new son at an astounding speed, and with using such a, uh, 'fresh' Ergo leads to P 'waking up' nearly instantaneously. So rather than being a puppet becoming human, P is a 'human' coming to terms with what he actually is.
This is all over the place, but I imagine Geppetto would keep P's interactions with others to a definitive minimum, if P ever asked about it Geppetto would chalk it all up to his son being weakened so severely by his accident that he would need near constant supervision to maintain his health. Tells P that Ergo is what is keeping him alive, it's why his eyes are now blue and how he can wield the weighty legion arm with such ease.
Only a trusted few are allowed to know of his existence. I mean? The entire city mourned his son, he can't exactly have an almost carbon copy strolling about the streets. Reader is probs not at the top of Geppetto's 'can tell list' lol. I'm fully leaning into the idea that Carlo/P snuck out and went absolutely wild looking their bud lmao. Poor fella doesn't know that visiting reader is gonna come with a side of confusion and an unwanted existential crisis/soul searching😔
And final thing! I have not finished Lies of P, nor have I even reached a single ending (but I'm making progress every day! <:) ), so I apologize if any details are choppy, confusing, or don't align with what is canon! I don't know how Carlo died, and I do not wish to be spoiled, this was just a fun sort of AU(?) thought that just kept snowballing ^^; Thank you everyone for your time, I sincerely hope this wasn't too much of a mess, and that it was at least an entertaining read! <:) )
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discar · 2 months
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HZD Terraforming Base-001 Text Communications Network
Chapter 18 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index
Direct Message (@ DIVINER [Alva])
OVERSEER [Bohai]: Alva. Have you settled in with the outlanders?
DIVINER [Alva]: Yes, sir! Although technically we're the outlanders not them?
OVERSEER [Bohai]: Your empathy is going to cause you problems one day, Diviner.
DIVINER [Alva]: Sorry!!
OVERSEER [Bohai]: Have you learned anything of note so far?
DIVINER [Alva]: Uh, well, isn't all of the Legacy of note by definition?
OVERSEER [Bohai]: You're dodging the question.
DIVINER [Alva]: I just think it's important we don't lose sight of what's important!!
OVERSEER [Bohai]: Alva, don't make me use the gif. You know I don't want to use the gif.
DIVINER [Alva]: I mean, I already copied over everything from that research center, most of the new stuff isn't really immediately relevant!
DIVINER [Alva]: I mean, it's IMPORTANT, I just think it can wait!
OVERSEER [Bohai]: [FuryRoadMediocre.gif]
DIVINER [Alva]: I'm soooory!!
OVERSEER [Bohai]: Then tell the truth.
DIVINER [Alva]: It's just...
DIVINER [Alva]: I'm worried that you won't like the truth.
DIVINER [Alva]: pleasedon'tbemad
OVERSEER [Bohai]: Ah. Yes, I suppose my particular leadership style would come back to bite me one day.
DIVINER [Alva]: I'm sorry!!
OVERSEER [Bohai]: Alva, I respect you. I respected you before this expedition, and your handling of the Ceo crisis was extraordinary.
OVERSEER [Bohai]: Though I remain insulted that you keep assuming even the simplest of lies will convince me.
DIVINER [Alva]: ...sorry.
OVERSEER [Bohai]: The point is, I am going to be perfectly honest with you. No sugar-coating.
DIVINER [Alva]: I'm ready, Overseer.
OVERSEER [Bohai]: I make no promises that you will receive credit for your discoveries. You are working under me, and that means that your discoveries are my discoveries.
DIVINER [Alva]: Yes.
DIVINER [Alva]: Yes, of course, I understand, Overseer.
OVERSEER [Bohai]: HOWEVER. I do promise that you will not be punished for any discoveries you make. Not even ones that conflict with the truth of the Legacy as we know it.
DIVINER [Alva]: Really!?
OVERSEER [Bohai]: Really.
OVERSEER [Bohai]: Now, what have you discovered?
DIVINER [Alva]: I'll send the first file over now! It's a little big for wireless, so I stripped out the videos!
DIVINER [Alva]: [HZDorientation_packet.pdf]
OVERSEER [Bohai]: It came through. I will begin reviewing it shortly.
DIVINER [Alva]: Okay!
----
OVERSEER [Bohai]: The truth about Faro alone would cause ripples, I hope you realize.
DIVINER [Alva]: Yes, sir.
OVERSEER [Bohai]: Though I suppose the Living Ancestor was right. By the end, the Ceo was acting like Faro.
----
OVERSEER [Bohai]: A clone?
DIVINER [Alva]: Yes, sir.
OVERSEER [Bohai]: You are certain?
DIVINER [Alva]: Yes, sir.
OVERSEER [Bohai]: If this turns out to be leading into Evangelion I will be quite upset.
DIVINER [Alva]: Sorry, but I never got into Eva! Aren't we missing like half the episodes??
OVERSEER [Bohai]: No, we have them all, none of you understand complex storytelling.
----
OVERSEER [Bohai]: Hm, I am curious about this "Sylens" character. Why did he never come to us?
DIVINER [Alva]: Well, we were across the ocean, and ever since we got here we were... less than hospitable?
DIVINER [Alva]: Actually, I thought he might be a Diviner!
OVERSEER [Bohai]: If he is, I have never heard of him. Do you have an image?
DIVINER [Alva]: Yes, Aloy gave me one of her better stills.
DIVINER [Alva]: [JerkFace.png]
OVERSEER [Bohai]: No, I do not recognize him. As loath as I am to admit it, he seems to have discovered all this on his own. How frustrating.
OVERSEER [Bohai]: Regardless, you have given me much to think upon. Please forward to me anything you suspect to be important, especially agricultural data.
DIVINER [Alva]: Oh! I did find one thing that I think the Imperial Family might find interesting! My friend Erend told me about it!
DIVINER [Alva]: [MetalVsMeatTrailer.mp9]
OVERSEER [Bohai]: ...that might be the most disgusting thing I have ever seen.
DIVINER [Alva]: Oh.
DIVINER [Alva]: Sorry.
OVERSEER [Bohai]: No, you're right, the Imperial Family will certainly find it interesting.
DIVINER [Alva]: Yay!
DIVINER [Alva]: …
DIVINER [Alva]: Um, are you going to steal the credit?
OVERSEER [Bohai]: Oh, yes.
DIVINER [Alva]: [Pout.gif]
Chapter 18 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index
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bylrlve · 20 days
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i believe there is happiness in our history (we always walked a very thin line)*
The Last Time ft. Gary Lightbody - this is the last time i’m asking you this: put my name at the top of your list
exile ft. Bon Iver - never learned to read your mind (never learned to read my mind), couldn’t turn things around (never turned things around), you never gave a warning sign (i gave so many signs)
mad woman - every time you call me angry i get more angry
closure - i don’t need your closure
Better Man (Taylor’s Version) - i know the bravest thing i ever did was run
Should’ve Said No - you should’ve known that word of what you did with (him) would get back to me
Tell Me Why - and i know that you see what you’re doing to me; tell me why?
White Horse - this is a small town, it’s too late for you and your white horse to come around
We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together - i remember when we broke up (the first time)
Cold As You - never been anywhere cold as you
When Love Breaks Down - the things we do to stop the truth from hurting you… the lies we tell, they only serve to fool ourselves
Back to December - how you held me in your arms that september night the first time you ever saw me cry
Labour - you make me do too much labour
Son of Nyx
All Too Well - i forget about you long enough to forget why i needed to
Who We Are - you only feel it when it’s lost
The Story of Us - now i’m standing alone in a crowded room and we’re not speaking
Now That We Don’t Talk (Taylor’s Version) - remind myself: the more i gave, you’d want me less
I Knew You Were Trouble - and he’s long gone when he’s next to me
driver’s license - red lights, stop signs, i still see your face
I’ Carrion (Icarian) - i feel lighter than i have in so much time
Say Don’t Go (Taylor’s Version) - should’ve known it from the very start - we’re a shot in the darkest dark
You’re Losing Me - you say ‘i don’t understand’ and i say ‘i know you don’t’… do we throw out everything we built or keep it?
Dynasty - all i gave you is gone, crumbled like it was stone
Rolling in the Deep - finally, i can see you crystal-clear
Happier - you look happier, you do
loml - you and i going from one kiss to getting married, still alive, killing time at the cemetery, never quite buried
hoax - my twisted knife, my sleepless night, my winless fight; this has frozen my ground
stranger- ‘cause i was half-myself without you; now i feel so complete
imgonnagetyouback - even if it’s handcuffed, i’m leaving here with you
California Dreamin’ - if i didn’t tell her, i could leave today
Last Kiss - all that i know is i don’t know how to be something you miss
So Long, London - you say that you loved me but where were the clues? i died on the altar waiting for the proof
Getaway Car - i wanted to leave (her), i needed a reason
I Don’t Wanna Live Forever - i’m sitting eyes wide open and i got one thing stuck in my mind, wondering if i dodged a bullet or just lost the love of my life… i feel crazy, up all night, all night and every day, i gave you something, but you gave me nothing
Don’t You Want Me - you know, i don’t believe you when you say that you don’t need me
I Did Something Bad - i let (him) think (he) saved me; (he) never see(s) it coming, what i do next, this is how the world works: you gotta leave before you get left
Send My Love (To Your New Lover) - we’ve gotta let go of all of our ghosts (we both know we ain’t kids no more)
Cold as Ice - you’re willing to sacrifice our love
Bejewelled - when i meet the band, they ask ‘do you have a man?’ i can still say ‘i don’t remember’
tolerate it - what if i break free and leave us in ruins? took this dagger in me and removed it? gain the weight of you then lose it? believe me, i could do it
When We Were Young - my god, this reminds me of when we were young
Impossible - and now, when all is done, there is nothing to say
Rumour Has It - rumour has it, he’s the one i’m leaving you for
In The Air Tonight - well, i was there and i saw what you did, i saw it with my own two eyes, so you can wipe off that grin, i know where you've been, it's all been a pack of lies
my tears ricochet - and i can go anywhere i want, anywhere i want (just not home), and you can aim for my heart, go for blood
High Infidelity - storm comin’, good husband, bad omen, dragged my feet right down the aisle, at the house lonely, good money, i’d pay if you just know me, seemed like the right thing at the time… do i really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?
Fresh Out The Slammer - another summer, takin’ cover, rollin’ thunder, (s)he don’t understand me
King - we argue in the kitchen about whether to have children, the world ending, and the scale of my ambition
No Light, No Light - you want a revelation, you wanna get right, but that’s a conversation i just can’t have tonight
Unknown/Nth - funny how true colours shine in darkness and in secrecy… do you know i could break beneath the weight of the goodness, love, i still carry for ya? that i’d walk so far just to take the injury of finally knowing ya?… there are some people, love, who are better unknown
Daylight (Slowed + Reverb) - oh, i love it and i hate it at the same time; you and i drink the poison from the same vine
No Light, No Light - a revelation in the light of day, you can’t choose what fades and what stays away, and i’d do anything to make you stay… you want a revelation, you wanna get right, but that’s a conversation i just can’t have tonight
King - we argued in the kitchen about whether to have children, the world ending, and the scale of my ambition
Someone You Loved - i let my guard down, and then you pulled the rug
Someone Like You - you know how the time flies; only yesterday was the time of our lives
First Time - some part of me must have died the final time you called me baby… but some part of me came alive the final time you called me baby
All Things End - last time i felt your weight on my chest, you said ‘we didn’t get it right but, love: we did our best, and we will again’
the 1 - but we were something, don’t you think so?
Smalltown Boy - the love that you need will never be found at home
happiness - no one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you (and you know you hurt him, too)… across our great divide, there is a glorious sunrise
Abstract (Psychopomp) - the memory hurts, but does me no harm (your hand in my pocket to keep us both warm)… i remember the view, street lights in the dark blue, the moment i knew: i’d no choice but to love you
* (Aka the m*leven failmarriage/ s5 acrimonious breakup playlist)
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omikazu · 3 years
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brat pack // m. atsumu
dad!atsumu with twin sons? gotcha.
*•.¸♡ haikyuu masterlist
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"it wasn't me, mommy, i swear it was daddy," your five year old son says earnestly, his twin brother nodding along.
"stop lying, brat!" atsumu complains, pointing a finger at him accusingly before turning to you. "baby, ya gotta believe me! ya know how kids lie 'bout stuff like this."
you sigh deeply, rolling your eyes at the disaster trio. this was a daily occurance, after all, with one of your three boys doing something stupid and then pointing fingers at each other. the worst part is, it's usually atsumu that lies, knowing you'd go easier on your sons than you would on him.
"i'll ask you all one last time. who made this mess on my beautiful rosewood cabinet?" you say, crossing your arms against your chest, glaring at your husband and sons. "and don't even bother trying to lie your way out, all three of you suck at it, anyway."
"it was daddy," the elder one of your twins speaks up again, adamantly. "he ordered pizza and then spilled it all over the cabinet while tickling me." you half smile at his words, almost close to believing him. that definitely sounds like something atsumu would do, alright.
"is that true, 'tsum?" you ask, narrowing your eyes at atsumu, who cowers, eyes darting to look anywhere else but at you. "thing is, sweet cheeks, the brat's only being half honest, true, we were playing around and i was tickling him but, we don't know whose hand knocked the pizza on yer counter," your husband hurries his words, sounding panicky. he knows how much you love that cabinet, it was very expensive and it had been a wedding gift from your parents and you've cherished it ever since. "ask the other brat if ya want! go on, kiddo, tell yer mom the truth and i'll buy you icecream."
"yeah, daddy's right," your younger twin cheers, "can we all go get icecream now?"
"now you're just bribing him," you snap. "you know what, i'll never find the culprit like this, how about i just let all three of you take the fall for it, instead?"
"oh no," your younger twin son says, his good cheer dying down. "mommy's really mad this time, daddy."
atsumu's hopeful smile fades, and your twins take a step back each. your two little brats were ready to run, and your big brat was ready for flight too. "no, no," you groan, "don't you three dare run away from me." too late. the twins take off first, screeching loudly as atsumu follows closely behind with you in tow, waving your arms around frantically as you try to reach him, although your efforts are fruitless.
"fuck, at least clean that mess up first, then you can run," you scream at atsumu, throwing a cushion at his head. "don't ya go swearing when the kids are around, baby! yer such a bad influence on them," he teases, dodging the cushion and ducking behind the sofa.
"says you," you retort, scooping the younger of your twin boys into your arms, squishing his chubby cheeks. "shall we make daddy clean it up all alone?" he nods frantically as your older son shrieks from under the dining table, voicing his agreement. you hear atsumu groan from behind the sofa.
"that's no fair, baby!" he whines, getting up and trudging over to where you are. "stupid brats, this is all because of ya two, now if i had a little princess like samu did, this wouldn't have happened," he mutters, sticking his tongue out at your sons, who repeat his actions back to him, unfazed.
"tell ya what, baby, fine, i'll clean up these little fools' mess," atsumu grumbles as you set your son down on the sofa, then leans close to your ear, hands squeezing your waist. "but in return, give me a cute little baby girl this time, 'kay?"
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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youtube
Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
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newronantic · 3 years
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HAIKYUU!! FICS
so this is mostly gonna be for myself to keep track of my favorite fics i’ve read, but hey if anyone else wants to check some of these out then thats great
MHA one is up!!
ill keep updating this as i read more, feel free to send me suggestions!
KageHina
plain as day - emleewrites
In which Hinata has spent the better part of the last twenty years putting his heart and soul into volleyball, hoping to be recognised, to be noticed. And yet he spends all these years also thinking of himself as rather plain, beyond his lack of height and bright hair, and not really noticeable at all.
In Transit - Mysecretfanmoments
Hinata finds that he likes standing close to Kageyama on buses and trains. It doesn't mean anything--probably. Maybe.
I like the way your clothes smell - Mysecretfanmoments
Power outages, ghost stories, and the presence of a certain orange-haired boy lead to bad decision-making on Tobio's part. He'd planned to keep his crush a secret; the universe has other plans.
Chaotic Neutral - akaraka
Who's this Kageyama person on twitter and is he gay?
1: Anonymous: see title
2: Anonymous: curry king
3: Anonymous >> 1: It's the curry king, obviously. Have you been using his memes this whole time without knowing who he was?
4: Anonymous: 1) Hinata Shouyou's boyfriend 2) See above
jellyfish - mysterytwin
At the beginning of his last year at Karasuno High School, Hinata Shouyou starts a list and calls it THINGS TO DO BEFORE GRADUATION, all with high hopes that he’ll be able to complete it before his time runs out.
TsukkiYama
Try This On For Size - CloudMonsta
A lot changed for Yamaguchi Tadashi over the course of high school. He started trying on dresses, for one.
The Great Yamaguchi-Tsukishima Split (Capitalization Necessary) - WyYeuw
"But no, the current situation isn’t normal. This situation requires the full attention of the team.
No, what’s really concerning this time around, is that Yamaguchi is the one ignoring Tsukishima.”
Yamaguchi confesses. Tsukishima fucks up—like, really fucks up. The volleyball club notices and loses a week’s worth of practice.
IwaOi
Terrarium - sausaged
He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).
At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?
Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?
A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.
They Say it Rain Diamonds on Jupiter - exsao
"You're in love with him."
Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.
"Yeah," he says instead.
He's never been good at lying, anyway.
bait and switch - Stylographic_Blue_Rhapsody
Oikawa's university volleyball team knows he's in a long-distance relationship with someone from high school. They imagine a sweet-faced girl that matches his sarcasm with patience. They are so incredibly wrong.
my heart is where it’s always been - foreverautumn
Iwaizumi places his phone down carefully.
Oikawa. Pining after someone. There’s no way.
(Iwaizumi knows he shouldn’t care who Oikawa might have feelings for, but within the span of three days, it’s somehow the only thing he can think about.)
KuroKen
Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life - todxrxki
Kuroo Tetsurou runs a private Twitter account where he's constantly tweeting about how desperately in love he is with Kozume Kenma. Little does he know that Kenma sees all the tweets and keeps referencing the account in an attempt to get Kuroo to confess to him. / Or, five times Kuroo didn't notice Kenma hinting about his private Twitter account, and one time he finally did.
the things that get caught in the valves of his heart - ghostpot
Emotional competency is not exactly Kuroo's strong suit. Kenma finds it quite amusing.
Accidentally In Love - todxrxki
Kuroo frowns, but then slowly, the corners of his mouth lift up into a smirk. "Well, if it's so unbelievable, why don't we give it a try?"
Kenma glances up at him curiously. "What do you mean?"
"Let's do the 36 questions to fall in love," Kuroo says, still smirking stupidly. "If we don't fall in love, then you're right, it's bullshit. But if we do somehow..." Kuroo waggles his eyebrows. "Then I win." / Kuroo decides he and Kenma should do the 36 questions to fall in love as a joke, but they both start to realize they might actually be in love already.
the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) - cosmogony
TW: major character death
Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives
even if you’re ahead for a bit, i will catch up - ghostpot
Kuroo first confesses when they're sticky-fingered, wide-eyed kids, and subsequently every day after that. Kenma takes a while to come around.
you’re the brake lines failing (as my car swerves off the freeway) - ghostpot
Kenma thinks that Kuroo looks ugly with his head bent against the arm of the couch like that. Then Kenma thinks that he wants to marry him, and is promptly thrown into the 5 stages of grief.
teach me the way home - icespyders
“Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —
because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.”
Kuroo and Kenma grow up in transit.
in this universe - crossbelladonna
Living with Kuroo is sometimes, just like this. It always feels surreal like he's living half a world and a lot of things rush by too quickly. Kenma feels like he'd watched him come and go in a blink, eyes wide and wordless as the shared space went snug in an instant and far larger in the next.
All this, and a glass of water.
Beginning’s End - todxrxki
Somehow over the course of Kenma's lifetime, he’s never really had an opportunity to miss Kuroo. He’s always been there. Even when they went to different schools, Kuroo would meet him afterwards so they could walk home together, shoulders brushing, Kuroo occasionally taking the opportunity to guide him when his nose was buried in the newest video game. The thought of Kuroo not being there anymore is uncomfortable, to say the least. / Kozume Kenma's third year and the changes the year brings in himself and his relationship with Kuroo Tetsurou.
All I Want for Christmas is You - todxrxki
“Kuro,” he says. “You’re a single guy.”
“Yeah, great, thanks for pointing that out.”
“And my parents already know you, plus they already know you like guys or whatever so… what if you pretended to be my date for Christmas dinner?” / In which Kenma recruits his housemate and best friend Kuroo to be his fake date for Christmas.
BokuAka
just to miss the sun - rosevtea
Everything begins to implode when MSBY Jackals outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou crashes Akaashi's livestream.
Operation BokuAka - kazzydolyn
After spending two whole years watching Bokuto and Akaashi pine for one another, the rest of the Fukuroudani Volleyball Club has had enough. When everyone meets up for a reunion dinner, the team decides to play matchmaker and finally get the two of them together. Unfortunately, their plan starts to fall apart when they discover that Akaashi is already dating someone. And apparently so is Bokuto. What a strange coincidence.
bitter - silvercistern
He accepted his classmate's chocolates gracefully, then declared his lack of interest with as much dignity as he could muster. She deserved the courtesy. At least she'd acknowledged that Valentine's Day was all about her, and not about him in the slightest.
Because if any of these girls had taken the time to actually get to know him, they’d quickly realize something even more important than his lack of interest in girls.
And that was that Akaashi hated sweets.
In Another Life - LittleLuxray
TW: major character death
Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.
The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.
120% yes - pissedofsandwich
TOKYO FRANCHISE COMING SOON @OnigiriMiya
in reply to @bokkun_official 
Congratulations! In celebration of your historic engagement, please DM us so we can send you a free membership code with a 25% discount on every fourth purchase!
Kissing Ace - karasunovolleygays
It happens right after training camp.
Akaashi Keiji has a secret he has guarded since he was a child. He won’t go so far as to call it a fear, but more of an aspect of himself of which he is horribly mortified. No one on the team knows about it, and Akaashi does his best to keep it that way.
But years of dodging hugs and casual contact come to naught in the blink of an eye and the swipe of a hand.
daisy rings and frivolous things (i am deliriously in love with you) - gabstar
Akaashi Keiji is in love. Bokuto Koutarou is a star. Everyone on Fukurodani has a gambling problem.
SakuAtsu
The MSBY Black Jackals Read Thirst Tweets - isaksara (syailendra)
Sakusa’s eyes are very dark naturally, sucking in all surrounding rays of light and crushing them in his pupils. For an athlete, he is rather pale. His lips look very pink in comparison. Atsumu is suddenly catastrophically aware that in this instance, ‘accent’ is a euphemism. “Good enough for your Olympic-size ego, Miya?”
(In which Atsumu realizes that he is attracted to Sakusa Kiyoomi in the most inconvenient way possible.)
A Liar’s Truth - internetpistol
In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is raised to believe that gay people go to hell but then takes one look at Miya Atsumu and thinks, then why the hell did God make them so fucking hot?
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c-is-for-circinate · 3 years
Text
CR ep 3.06
Gosh, what a nice exposition episode.
It's times like this when you can see how many of the cast is just billowing with storytelling chops, because this episode did things with pacing that felt natural and half-unconscious and clever all at once. (You can do really smart pacing things in an improv format, but half the time, when it happens, it's not even on purpose -- it's instinctual reaction to how things feel they ought to fit together. In this case, a lot of it was Matt intentionally planning, but not all of it by far.)
I think the big thing we saw this week was the group coming closer together, learning more and more about each other, while simultaneously getting bits and pieces around the edges of the secrets they're still keeping. It felt intentional, even, storycraft-intentional. We started an episode with seven new friends sitting down at a drinking game to learn each others' secrets and ended it with one member of the group lying to the others about a family thing that had just come up, his family that was the very first thing brought up in that drinking game, and once again the pure cinema of chance feels like scripted television yet again.
Literally every person in this episode (except Imogen, I think?) lied or hid or tried to subterfuge at least one thing. And I think I like it so damn much because every single person in this episode was also so damn honest, y'know? We learned so many things! Most of the things we learned from the individual characters seemed truthful, even. I still give Laudna like a 30% chance of being Secret Vesper de Rolo, but yeah, killed and then reanimated by the Briarwoods sounds 100% believable to me. Yes I want to know all about Ashton's ragtag group of childhood friends and occasional lovers who left town and left them behind, but nothing he said about them rang false, just evasive. Ditto most of the others; FCG was absolutely playing squirrel to get out of answering questions, and Fearne just hates being pinned down, but dodging questions or not, I don't think anybody really lied except Fearne, and she got caught within ten seconds anyway.
Ugh, and I was wide awake this week until I started trying to think through this post and then I started dozing off on the keyboard again, but a few bullet points I want to mention while fresh in my mind:
CLASS WARFARE CAMPAIGN what did I fucking tell you, their new allies are literally a cell of devout, possibly terrorist anarchists. The ruling class literally hide their identities from the people. So much more of this to come.
I'm sure peoples' mileage may vary, but I absolutely love Laudna and Imogen and the fact that even six episodes in there's been no definite answer to the question of whether they're fucking or just Really Good Friends. Their room is small! There's only one bed! Who knows???
Ahahahahahahahha holy shit Laudna's warlock patron is Delilah Briarwood, I cannot fucking wait to see where that plot goes.
I have the vague suspicion that events are converging to give Dorian a chance to step out gracefully, which I admittedly regret. This is the class warfare campaign! I love having a character like Dorian, who is very rich, in the middle of all these working-class and straight-up-poor motherfuckers. I love seeing that intersection! I'm hoping his brother adds to it and that also doesn't take him away too far.
My words keep going sideways so that is tonight's post-ep post and we will see about next week when it happens.
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merakiui · 3 years
Note
Scara and Kazuha in a relationship but Kazuha starts acting more distant and spending more time outside without Scara. Scara gets angry and starts following him which leads him to you. You're at your work and Kazuha comes in every day and spends hours there. Writing poetry, reading, doing any number of things that will occupy his time while he drinks in your presence. Scara then begins stalking you too, but he is intent on murder because he feels threatened by his boyfriend's interest in you. But this plan changes as he soon sees in you what Kazuha does. Flash forward a bit and Scara finally brings you up one night, Kazuha thinks he's being broken up with and tries to apologize and promise that he loves Scara more but Scara hushes him and leads him to their room, where you already lay drugged, bound, and very confused. Welcome to the relationship :)))
(cw: yandere, obsession, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, kidnapping/captivity, stalking, drugging)
Imagine if their anniversary is coming up when Kazuha starts to distance himself! Scara’s worried because he doesn’t want to break up with Kazuha when their anniversary is right around the corner. He hopes Kazuha’s just going through some stuff and needs his alone time, which he’s more than happy to give, but it feels like he’s had too much alone time. He dodges questions, tries to redirect any conversations that have to do with their relationship, and it’s obvious he isn’t telling the truth. All of this starts to add onto Scara’s pile of worries and he’s not sure if this relationship can continue if it’s moving in this downhill fashion.
And then he decides to dig a little deeper to find the root of the problem. It lies in a quaint coffee shop—a place he’s never actually been to. Scara’s passed it so many times, but he can’t recall a time where he brought Kazuha. He assumes Kazuha is meeting someone in secret and so he waits for this person to show up. They never come and eventually he rules out the possibility that he might be seeing someone else behind his back. For the rest of the week, Scara ends up following Kazuha to that coffee shop to figure out what’s so special about it. All he really does is sit there to read and write, occasionally indulging in a drink and a pastry.
And then he realizes the pattern.
Kazuha only goes on days when a specific person is working and it doesn’t take a scholar to note the coincidence. Scara doesn’t see the appeal to you at first. You’re just a normal person going about your shift. Kazuha doesn’t even talk to you, save for the moments where he orders and you comment about how you’ve come to recognize him because he visits so often. It makes him jealous. Kazuha smiles so happily when you tell him you remember him. To see his own partner practically swooning for another person—it’s bothersome.
So he really does feel like he has to get rid of you. Tell you to back off or give you a scare that’ll keep you away from him forever. And he’s fully ready to go through with it until he finds himself standing in line in the coffee shop on a day where Kazuha doesn’t show up. You’re not supposed to be working today. Your schedule, from his observations, states that you usually work afternoons to nights on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.
You must’ve switched shifts with someone.
Scara supposes he might as well get something since he’s here. It’s a busy day and there are only so many staff members. You’re flitting around behind the counter, juggling multiple orders at once and constantly telling the waiting customers that you’ll ‘be right with them in a second.’ Scara’s already annoyed at the rush, but he gets even more ticked off when you mess up his drink. He’s glaring daggers at you, wanting to berate you for being such a clumsy person and that you shouldn’t be the one who has captured his boyfriend’s heart. It’s just not fair.
But then you give him the weakest customer service smile you can muster and you apologize so much and your expression is slowly breaking. Maybe he glared a little too hard… You offer to make his drink again (free of charge) and you also throw in a free pastry to cement your apology. Scara just stands in silence as he watches you hurry to remake his drink, clutching the bag with the pastry in it. And when he leaves his heart is skipping a few beats, which is odd because he’s supposed to have eyes for Kazuha.
Scara frequents the coffee shop every now and then on odd days. Sometimes you’re there covering an extra shift and sometimes you’re not. He starts to see your charms—overhears your witty sense of humor when you joke with your coworkers and witnesses how good you are at interacting with other people. He can see why Kazuha has taken quite the liking to you. Maybe he doesn’t want to be angry at you anymore. Maybe he’s starting to like you, too. But that can’t be because he likes Kazuha. Then again there’s nothing wrong with polyamory and if Kazuha really does like you…
It’s the eve of their anniversary and Scara finally confronts Kazuha about his recent behaviors. Kazuha starts to apologize, trying to explain that things are complicated and he really does love Scara. That’s all he manages to get out before Scara interrupts him and leads him to the room you’re being kept. Consider it an early anniversary gift for the both of them. You don’t really have a say in whether or not you want any part of the relationship, but it’s not like Scara wants to hear any objections. You make Kazuha happy and he’s come to like you, so it’ll be easier for you if you just accept this new relationship.
You’re woozy from the drugs, eyes half-lidded and clouded over with confusion and fear. Your wrists and ankles are bound and there’s a gag in your mouth. You feel suffocated under the weight of their stares. Eventually you recognize them because they’re regulars at the coffee shop you work at. You can’t really make sense of anything right now—you’re too dizzy to even formulate a coherent thought—but all you know now is that things aren’t looking good for you.
Happy anniversary to Scara and Kazuha. As for you…good luck navigating this new relationship.
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maybege · 3 years
Text
Work Song
Summary: You meet once again.
Pairing: hot dad!Boba Fett x fem!Reader
Wordcount: 4.2k
Rating: E (18+ only!)
Warnings: explicit sexual content, dom/sub relationship, use of sex toys, dirty talk, consensual degradation and namecalling, multiple orgasms, double penetration, oral sex (m receiving), come play, sexting
When I was pondering which to post (bodyguard!Paz ord hot dad!Boba), I figured: why not both? So tonight I am serving you some delicious hot dad!Boba smut and tomorrow or Tuesday evening you will get the next part of The One! I am really excited to share this with you and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated and I hope you enjoy it!
masterlist | crossposted on AO3
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Work was boring.
Or rather, it wasn’t boring but your thoughts kept drifting to much more exciting prospects. Like the next meeting at the motel.
Boba had messaged you that he had gotten scheduled for the midnight calls almost all through the next month and had suggested you meet on Fridays instead. But since Fridays were your yoga course days, and the only real opportunity for you to go out and meet new people and potential friends, that was not an option either. And so, you had remained on Saturdays - even if it meant he wouldn’t get to stay the night.
Even over the phone, you could see the reluctance he had to agree to it. (“I’d prefer if I could buy you breakfast the way I buy you dinner,” had been his exact words to which you had only smiled.)
So now it was Thursday, almost the end of the week, and you could not wait to get back home, to get to the end of the week and into the motel and, most importantly, to Boba.
With a groan, you let your head onto your desk in your cubicle. All around you, you could hear the tapping of the keyboards, people talking, phones ringing, the alarm of the printer going off when there was – once again – not enough paper there. Even sitting at your desk among a sea of people you never felt so alone.
“What are you thinking?” Nat, chewing a piece of gum, popped up on the wall of your cubicle, resting her chin in her hands. You flinched in surprise, looking up at her cheerful face. “Dreaming of mystery man from the bar again?”
If only she knew.
You smiled, “I, uh, I was just checking over these numbers again, I think I might have to start from scratch and ask marketing for the raw numbers.”
Nat popped her gum, clearly disappointed that you did not seem to share any details. “Well, Marketing really needs to get their shit together,” she grumbled, “I had to ask them for the full numbers – twice! – last week. can you believe that? Twice!”
“Now that I have them in front of me, it’s not that hard to believe,” you grinned, leaning back in your chair and looking up at her, “But that is not why you came to talk is it?”
“Well,” she sighed dramatically, sending you a wink, “Since you don’t let me live through your love life – you want to come for drinks this Saturday? Me and the girls want to check out a new restaurant in town, I’m sure you’ll like it.”
“I’d love to but I already have plans,” you declined, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of whom you had plans with, “Maybe next time?”
For a minute, you were afraid that maybe she would be suspicious. That maybe she would keep asking you about Boba and you would have to dodge your questions.
But thankfully, Nat seemed to have completely forgotten all about your love life.
“Sure!” she perked up, throwing a look towards the kitchen, “Wanna do lunch together? I’m starving.”
You nodded, smiling when you heard her basically skipping her way to the kitchen from her cubicle. Grabbing your phone, you went to follow her.
*
Nat kept talking about one thing or another, completely oblivious to the internal fight you were just hashing out in your head.
Never had your phone looked more menacing.
You did not know when or how exactly but somewhere in the two minutes it had taken to microwave your food, a tiny little thought had manifested itself in your mind.
Boba had asked for your wishes the last time and you had been too nervous to think about them. But surely, with the safety of a screen between you, you would be able to articulate at least some of them?
Then again, would he even want that? After all, it was not Saturday and maybe he did not want to have that kind of contact out of your agreed meeting hours?
You tapped your fingernails on the table top before deciding to just fuck it.
You: I want you to fuck my mouth.
There. It was sent. It was done. You had half a mind to switch your phone off and never look at it again, you felt that embarrassed. But before you could do so you saw how the read notification popped up and now it was like a car crash you couldn’t look away from. Boba had seen it. It was too late now. Shit, what had you done?
Boba: So princess has some dirty wishes after all.
Boba: Any more things you want to try out?
You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head towards Nat who looked at you questioningly. “My friend just sent me something funny,” you waved off while making sure no one would be able to get a look on your phone screen.
Toys. you typed out, I’ve never got to try any and I want to try them all. Want you to use them on me.
Now I’m thinking about getting you a dildo, little one. Maybe even two. One for that tight little kissy and the other to train your mouth.
The implication made you clench your thighs and you took a deep breath, hoping no one would notice how you were almost squirming in your seat.
Lunch forgotten, your eyes were fixed on your phone as the three dots kept moving on the screen. You weren’t really sure if this counted as texting per se but you had never been this explicit with someone over texts and your heart skipped a beat as the next message appeared.
Boba: Does that turn you on?
You: Yes.
Boba: Where are you?
You: On my lunch break. Why?
Boba: Because if you’d been home I’m this close to take a half-day and fuck you silly in your own bed.
You shuddered, your thighs clenching.
I’m this close to going home sick if that’s what awaits me.
The read notification popped up but you saw how he wasn’t online anymore and frowned. You tried to avoid your thoughts of how maybe you had been too forward or too awkward or maybe he thought you were weird now for being willing to go home in the middle of the workday just to get in bed with him. But the truth was you were.
Work was boring today and while you appreciated Nat’s attempts to get talking, you didn’t really feel in the mood to talk. Besides, you knew she was just out to get more info about the bar mystery man as she called him and even though you liked her you really didn’t want to talk about Boba to anyone. So yeah, the thought of being able to go home and be able to feel Boba against you instead of going through the different numbers sounded like heaven to you.
Reluctantly, you got back to your pasta salad, aware that you only had a few minutes on your break left and trying to not spend them checking your phone constantly. How much more pathetic could you be?
“Ready?” Nat asked suddenly beside you as her friends got their dishes into the dishwasher and you nodded with a smile.
“Although when is one ever ready for work?” she asked, faking a British accent and you grinned, pocketing your phone in the pocket of your dress.
“Never,” you replied, “one can just hope it’ll be over soon.”
The dark-haired women turned to you with a conspiratory grin before twirling into her cubicle, leaving you alone to go back to your desk. You stood at the entrance of your cubicle for a moment, eyes roaming over the papers on your desk, ruined with your scribbling as you tried to decipher whatever numbers marketing had sent you.
You rubbed your hand over your face, forcing yourself to smile with the hopes that it would release endorphins or some shit. You could do this. There was no need to feel overwhelmed by this. What would be the first step to make this better?
Typing the email to Brenda from Marketing should not have been as hard as it was. But your mind was swirling with trying to find the right balance between polite and insistent because you could not afford to lose any more hours of work over something that simply could not be worked with.
Just as you were ready to give up, your phone pinged.
Boba: Sorry, business call. But believe me, little one, I can’t wait until this weekend. Would you be okay with me buying some toys for you?
You smiled, answer already ready.
*
“Shit, little one, you looked so good like that. You like that?”
You gasped for breath, eagerly nodding. A thin layer of sweat had built all over your body as you knelt on the end of the bed. You were so intoxicated by these feelings, by him, it felt like everything was on fire, getting ready to burst.
As soon as he had arrived – you being the first in the room this time around – he had framed your face in his hands and kissed you until you both been breathless. And then he had shown you the toys.
That was how you had ended up here, on the bed, completely naked, moving yourself on one of the dildos he had brought for you.
“Look at you, such a good girl for me, hm?” Boba murmured, his hands moving once again and you choked, tears stinging in your eyes from the effort of trying to relax your throat and keeping your hands behind your back as he had instructed.
Boba had not just brought one toy. He had brought two. And you while you were fucking yourself on one, thighs shaking with the effort, Boba had pushed the other down your mouth. “To train you to take me,” he had rumbled with a glint in his eyes.
A particularly hard thrust down your throat forced you lower on the shaft between your legs and you moaned, tears of pleasure and despair pricking your eyes. He was still completely closed, looking as dominant as ever and you could feel your clit and y our nipples aching wanting to be touched and played with.
You whined, drool slipping down your chin and Boba showed mercy, slowly pulling the toys away from your mouth. “What is it, little one?” he asked, “What’s got you all teary-eyed, hm ?”
“My – my nipples are so sensitive,” you pleaded with him, “Please, please touch them, Boba.”
He grinned darkly, running the tip of the dildo over your wet lips. “So, touch them.”
You shook your head as best as you could, wanting to remind him of the one rule he had set for you but then he pushed the toys back into your mouth. Your back arched as you leant forwards, humming when the dildo shifted inside you and even more so when your chest brushed against the rough material of his shirt.
It was like little pricks of pleasure coursed through you.
Boba looked down at you, the blue dildo still in his hand and you felt heat seep into your cheeks. From shame? Maybe. But all you felt arousal as you saw the admiration in hid ryes.
“How desperate you look,” he mused, his fingers holding your chin, “How pretty. Just for me.”
“Yes,” you gasped, mouth falling open as you sank down on the toys again, your nipples brushing over the harsh fabric, “J-just for you.”
“My pretty little fucktoy,” he smiled, leaning down and kissing you open-mouthed. You gasped into him, pleasure overtaking you and when his hand wandered down to your right nipple, pinching and pulling it sharply, you came. Everything in your body tightening before it felt like you were bursting at the seams, the sudden wave of pleasure making you whimper.
Where you had been so precariously balanced on top of the dildo, now you lost your balance, completely falling against him but Boba was there to catch you.
“Good girl,” he mumbled, his hand still squeezing your tit, “Think you have another round in you?”
Your eyes fell to the very obvious bulge in his pants and you nodded eagerly. Even with your legs still trembling from your orgasm, you were already carving more. More of this, more of him and the pleasure he could give you.
With calloused fingers gently wrapped around your forearm, he helped you up.
You followed willingly, letting him turn around until you were facing the bed, sheets messy where you had kneeled.
“I’m going to let you choose, little one,” he murmured into your ear, his warm body pressed against your back. You could hardly concentrate with your hands on your skin like that, one hand holding you by your throat while the other dipped between your folds. “Which toy do you want to fuck now?”
First, you were disappointed that apparently you did not get to fuck yourself on his cocks but then his finger swiped over your clit and you shuddered.
“Answer me, princess,” he growled, his hand slightly tightening on your throat, “Or are you too cockdumb already?”
“Nuh-uh,” you tried to shake your head just as much as your legs were shaking from the pleasure he was giving you. You tried to focus on the toys. The one you had used already and the one he had had you suck off. The blue one was glistening from your juices and your thighs clenched at the thought of having it inside you again.
But the other one, the purple one, was much thicker than the blue and you knew it was closer to what Boba’s cock actually felt like.
“The purple one,” you murmured, head leaning back against his shoulder and he mouthed at your neck, humming in satisfaction.
“You’re so kriffing sexy, you know that?” he whispered, planting a playful bite on your shoulders before leaving you alone in the middle of the room. You whined, pressing your thighs together as you saw him so meticulously prepare for what seemed to be the next scene he had had in mind.
With a soft towel spread on the floor in front of the armchair, Boba looked at you as he sat down, legs spread wide before planting the dildo on the towel. “I think good girls deserve a treat,” he murmured, working on his pants before getting his weeping cock out and you swore your knees were that close to giving out underneath you.
You gaped at him, practically falling on your knees with your hands placed on his thighs. The impact made a dull sound and your heart skipped a beat as he immediately leant forward, fingers gripping your chin as he searched your face for any sign of pain.
“I know you’re eager to suck my cock, little one,” he smirked, “But no need hurting yourself over it, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you breathed, feeling a little embarrassed for how needy you were being.
Boba smirked, leaning back in his seat but not before running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. Your eyes flicked down to his weeping cock, your mouth watering at seeing how a drop of precome had already collected at the tip.
Without thinking any further, you sank down on the dildo, mouth falling open at how it stretched you. You ducked down, closing your lips around his shaft and taking him as deep as he would go in one smooth movement.
Boba groaned loudly above you, one hand going to the back of your neck to keep you there. Just like your pussy, he filled your throat completely, your tongue feeling as if it was running out of space so you did your best to press it against the underside of him, wriggling along the prominent vein he had there.
Tears gathered in your eyes again and you moaned as the toy inside you hit a spot the previous one couldn’t. Your hips stuttered, slowly starting to grin against it in hopes of it hitting that spot again. You did not move your mouth from him.
“Fuck you look good like that,” he praised you, his free hand coming around your throat and you tried to swallow when you felt his thumb rub over the bulge in your throat. You had not even realized how far you had taken him but when you saw the grin on his face, his eyes glazed over in pleasure, you felt proud of yourself for making him feel like this.
Slowly he pulled you off his length and you followed, gasping for breath when you could. A trail of saliva connected you still to him and through your lashes, you looked up at him. Even now he was a sight to behold, jaw clenched, a glint in his eyes.
You would do everything to please him.
“Don’t think I can last long, little one,” he grumbled, lips twitching as he spotted how you still moved your hips, “Think you can come before that? Don’t want to leave you hanging.”
You nodded, rising on your knees again just like before and sinking back down, moaning when it hit that sweet spot.
“Good,” he smiled, warping his hand around his cock, “You can touch yourself how much you. Just want you to come for me, okay?”
“Okay,” you smiled, obediently opening your mouth to take him in again. Your fingers went to your clit, circling it to spread around the wetness that was already making its way to the towel. You gasped, hips jerking at the pleasure.
Boba groaned, rubbing the head of his cock along your tongue, precoma coating your taste buds. He pushed your head down again, quickly building up to a rhythm that had you choking and gagging, spit trailing down your chin, making you feel filthy and desired.
One hand came up to your chest, pinching your nipple and throwing you off the cliff. Your moan got interrupted by Boba shoving himself down your throat even more and you shook where you sat, your wetness coating the toy until all you could hear were obscene squelching sounds from between your thighs.
“Where did you want my come little one?”
“On my face, please,” you gasped.
A deep, guttural groan left him and you opened your mouth even wider, sticking your tongue out as your fingers played with your nipples. Hot roped of come splattered on your face, landing on your brows, your nose, your tongue, dripping down your chin and onto your chest. Boba continued pumping his shaft milking himself of every last drop and collecting it on his thumb before gently spreading it over your cheek.
“Did I do good?” you asked, heaving for breath.
“You were perfect,” he rumbled, scooping some of his come onto your tongue and you swallowed eagerly.
You shifted on your knees, wincing when the dildo moved inside you.
Boba leant down to you, his hand carefully holding you by the elbow as he stood up slowly, taking you with him. Your legs were shaking from the strain and your knees hurt from straightening them. You shivered.
A soft kiss was pressed to your lips and he led you back to the bed. The fabric was cool under your fingertips and you took a shaky breath. His warm hands were on your shoulders, thumbs brushing the skin as he looked down on you.
“Let me get you something to clean up, okay?” he murmured.
You nodded silently. He disappeared for a moment and you simply sat there, wringing your hands and trying to focus on your surroundings. Everything was fuzzy still, pleasantly warm from your orgasms but you also felt could now that it was over.
You heard the sink run in the bathroom and a moment later, Boba was in front of you again, a warm cloth in his hands that he gently ran over your face.
“Look up at me, little one,” he murmured and you did, closing your eyes as you tilted your face towards him. With gentle movements, he cleaned your face but you were too tired to smile. You felt drained but in a good way, like your limbs were too heavy from pleasure to really move and so you just let the feelings wash over you.
When he was finished, his hand came up to cup your cheek and you leaned into him.
Boba hummed, “Would you like to take a shower or a bath?”
“Bath, please,” you croaked, flinching as you heard how hoarse you sounded. Boba’s lips quirked up and he nodded. Slowly he guided you to the tiled bathroom, sitting you down on a towel at the edge of the tub before getting the water running.
You frowned, the rushing water almost too loud in your ears. Boba turned around, spotting you curling in on yourself and just like that he had you in his arms.
“It was a bit intense, wasn’t it?” he asked quietly, his lips brushing against your ears and you nodded, burying your head in the fabric of his flannel.
“I – I don’t know why I feel this way,” you whispered, “this … sensitive.”
“You’re coming down from a high, little one,” he explained, thumb brushing the back of your neck, “It’s normal to feel a little exposed. But I will make sure, you’re okay, okay? Anything you need, princes, you just tell me, yeah? Anything.”
“Okay,” you whispered, already feeling a bit better with him here.
You did not know for how long you stood there, but when the water shut off and Boba helped you in the tub you sighed in content. The water was just the perfect temperature and you sunk in with closed eyes, the only thing guiding you being Boba’s hands.
“I will get us some food, okay?” he asked quietly, sitting at the edge of the tub and holding your hand. You had never felt this cared for. “I will get us the same order as the last time, does that sound good?”
You nodded with a smile. He stood up but you held onto his hand, only letting go when the distance became too much. Stars, you were really fucked out good, weren’t you?
With your eyes closed in relaxation, you could only hear his low chuckle as he got ready to leave. The door to the room closed not long after. You soaked in the tub for what felt like an eternity. The water was warm and you were positively surprised by the scent of the motel shampoo. It certainly was not as bad as you thought it would be.
Slowly you felt yourself coming back to reality, feeling more energized and more awake and aware of your surroundings. Boba had not come back yet so when the water got a little too cold for your liking, you decided to get out anyway.
You got dressed in your nightgown you had taken with you – thankful that Boba had left it for you on the counter in a moment of foresight –, hurrying barefoot over the carpet into the bed.
Just as you turned on the TV, the lock of the door turned and a whistling Boba came in, arms laden full of brown paper bags.
“You got more than last time,” you stated, frowning as you saw him put down a second paper bag on the small TV desk.
“Well, I won’t be able to buy you breakfast tomorrow, now will I?” he replied, “Thought I could take care of that now and then you don’t have to worry about it tomorrow.”
“Oh really?” you asked, sitting up on your knees, not minding when the blanket fell down, so you could at least make an attempt to peer into the bag.
Boba chuckled, indulging you by handing you the mysterious food bag and immediately you took a peek. There, neatly arranged, was a croissant, a chocolate muffin and what looked like a little breakfast sandwich.
“I’d keep the sandwich in the fridge,” Boba commented from the other side of the room, already taking out the familiar smelling food containers. He did not seem to know how your heart swelled in your chest at the sweet gesture.
You knew he had wanted to be here for breakfast – he had literally told you so on the phone – but when it was clear that Saturday would remain your meeting day of choice, you thought he had just shrugged it off. Maybe it had just been a flirtatious remark?
But the fact that he had gone out of his way to somehow show you he had been serious about what he had said made butterflies appear in your stomach.
“It’s very sweet,” you murmured, looking at the way the muscles in his back moves as he fished for the plastic utensils, “You didn’t have to.”
“But I wanted to,” he replied easily, still smiling when he turned around and carried the food with him, “Now let me slip under that blanket, princess, what will we watch?”
You giggled, watching this giant man carefully position himself on the bed, before stretching out his arm, offering you the food to eat and his chest to rest against once again.
“I could get used to this,” you murmured, taking a bite of the pita.
“Me too, princess,” he rumbled, “Me too.”
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Text
Okay so in a better world au ford and fiddleford created the Institute and made up, right? What happened to stan?
The point of that first post about "the twist" was this: what if Stan and Ford switched bodies and stans was sent into the portal with ford inside, and Stan in Ford's body remained behind. Stan immediately tries everything to turn it back on, to no avail. He went thru hundreds of papers and notes trying to understand ANYTHING and he got some general idea that ford had had a research partner out here who knew things- knew ford, knew the portal, he could help!
Stan in Ford's body races to town instead of staying isolated in the cabin for four weeks, and finds fiddleford. Fiddleford looks confused and stranger than the notes suggested but it matches up. He begs fiddleford to help him, and despite the falling out fiddleford has enough fondness for his old friend remaining that he is swayed. He doesn't get his full mind erased by the society bc he isn't abandoned fully and left wandering the town to be targeted by blind Ivan in his power grab.
Fiddleford and Stan (in Ford's body) go back to the shack and stan starts to take him to the basement when fidds starts freaking out, yelling and crying about the world-shattering consequences. About the things he saw, rhe demon, and more. Stan calms him down, takes him back upstairs. He's frustrated to high heaven and back but he knows he could never do this alone.
(He hasn't told fiddleford who he really is. Yet. He will, he just needs some help first. Who would help a loser like stan? But ford has a friend, he can be ford for a little bit to work the angle and get his brother back.)
It takes time. Way too much time, for Stan, but fiddleford slowly recovers enough of his sanity and calms his nerves enough to go down to the basement and not freak out. Stan admits to anything fiddleford asks him about, anything he saw from Ford's notes and makes it convincing that he's asking for a second chance. Maybe they could rebuild it, better? Without demon assistance?
Fiddleford helps tear it to shreds. They mark every part as they dismantle it and fiddleford searches for the reasons it opened a portal to nightmares. He doesn't follow schematics blindly, any more, no more blind trust to his friend. But he does help. Stan is learning on the job. He isn't convincing in the slightest of being a genius but fiddleford is too frazzled to notice. He's got his own shit going on.
They tear it down. Stan is afraid and angry and desperate but he holds his shit together. Fiddleford regains more of himself as they go. Stan learns more about ford and fiddlefords time together as fiddleford recovers memories and tells them to Stan. Stan makes his own notes, of how to Be Stanford Pines.
In time, they get to a stable place of living in the shack together, Stan trying to learn as much as he can about this science shit, pretending he was hit by the memory gun into forgetting himself when fiddleford questions it. Fidds is afraid to go confront the society, and can't remember where they are anyway. Stan doesn't care about it as long as his cover isn't blown. He hasn't told fiddleford yet. He will! But not yet.
They begin to plan a new, stable trans-dimensional vortex. It takes a whole hell of a lot, but they slowly build it anew. Still in the cursed basement, not even a skeleton of the old machine left after they destroyed it the first time.
Stan is flying less by the seat of his pants. Taking a leaf from Ford's book and staying up to radically terrible hours of the night studying and trying to understand all the science and math shit to make this work, to keep stringing fiddleford into helping him. Fidds takes time for his own projects and Stan doesn't bug him about it, saying if it makes money to split it, and when fiddleford hits a big invention that also happens to patent well and spread? They use the money to help their new portal.
It takes ten years to do it, but they recreate the portal, this time to a place they can control thru careful calibration. Fiddleford writes a scientific paper about it, publishes it with ford as a co-author, and they get international renown. Stan knows how to work a crowd and he uses their leverage to get people invested in investing, so to speak. It's not cheap to fund the energy required to turn it on, so they expand the building and create the Institute of Oddology, given enough time and building and circumstances lining up just right.
Fiddleford runs the teams and the day to day stuff. Stan handles finances and resource allocation and scheduling tours, interested parties, rivals, anything business side. He and fiddleford go to the first stable dimension together , though, and Stan uses all of the science gizmos at their disposal to search for ford while they're there.
He doesn't find him. He still hasn't told fiddleford. Its been too long at this point, right? What if he takes the money and fame and everything and kicks Stan out for lying? He mostly rode fiddlefords genius to get here, there's no way he'd not be mad about this.
They go to many dimensions. Stan takes samples and learns scientific process thru osmosis over the years and contributes to publishibg written works to the greater scientific community.
He looks for Ford. He finds nothing. He tells no one his true purpose for everything he's achieved to that point. He lies and wears Ford's face and shakes hands and is a sham.
One day Fiddleford races to his office, frantic and eyes wide and hands shaking slightly like Stan hasnt seen in years. It's been 30 years since ford was lost to the portal. And fiddleford comes to him and says there's a parallel you, Stanford, in conference room B, we need to send him on his way immediately, you remember what happened to Ernie on that trip 8 years back?
And Stan ignores this, heart pounding, and knocks fiddleford out, locking him in the office, racing to conference room B.
He bursts in, and sees a version of his brother. One he doesnt see in the mirror. A real Stanford Pines, 30 years older than the kids they were when they fought beside the portal. Apparently no universe is fair, if ford ends up inside in multiple dimensions.
Stan is speechless. The portal!ford is on the defensive, but interest is clear in his face. He keeps his distance, cognizant of parallel!fiddlefords warning from before. Of counterparts meeting in a dimension of origin. Annihilation.
Stan cries. Ford looks shocked to see his own self in such a state. He doesn't know what to do. Stan surges forward for a hug and Ford tries to dodge, afraid of the consequences. Stan traps his hands to his sides and sobs on Ford's mysterious black coat, calling him brother. Ford's inner alarm bells go off even as he clenches his eyes shut against the incoming total destruction.
When nothing happens except for a wet patch to grow on Ford's clothes, he opens his eyes and studies himself. They look scarily similar, truth be told. His counterpart heartier than he, an interdimensional fugitive. That makes sense. Parallel ford is apologizing into his jacket and clutching him hard enough to leave bruises.
Ford dodges out of the grapple his counterpart has him in. He demands answers in a clipped tone. Stan does his best to reign it back in as he confesses what transpired in this dimension to this dimension traveling ford. How he hopes his own brother, trapped in stans body, is still out there, still surviving, still where Stan can find him.
Ford starts a fight. Stan defends himself but it gets physical and he doesn't have the same instincts to take down he did when he was younger. He remembers the last fight he had with his brother, and doesn't want that to happen again.
Fiddleford eventually gets free of the office and runs in to see parallel ford beating the shit out of his ford. He stuns ford with a device on his belt and brings things back to some semblance of order, getting a first aid kit out to tend to them both. P!Ford's knuckles, mainly, and stans face.
The truth comes out, ugly and stained and fiddleford forgives Stan immediately. He turns to parallel ford and helps him out of the room, promising help with his weapon and more, later.
Stan is left with the knowledge that all these years later, no matter what he does, his brother hates him.
Fiddleford helps ford with his weapon. If ford can destroy bill cipher, more dimensions will open up to be explored. If his and stans ford is still alive out there, they'll have a better shot if Bill is out of the picture. They send parallel!ford off a few days later. Fiddleford goes to Stan that night and calls him by a name that hasn't been spoken in 30 years. Stan can barely look at him. Fiddleford gives him time and space, but tells him he understands.
A month and a half later, a ripple is felt thru thousands of dimensions at once, the death of Bill cipher in every iteration is making its way thru the multiverse. Celebrations are happening as people cheer and laud thr name of the one who saved them, spread in a cosmic understanding by some greater power. Stanley Pines, shatterer of Bill Cipher.
4 years later, they find Ford. Ford in Stans body is old, ragged. He's missing an eye and an arm and so much more of who he used to be. But they bring him home. He doesn't want to switch bodies back.
Stan feels guilt eat at him, but ford is different than the other traveler they'd met. He's more settled. He thanks Stan for finding him. Doesn't blame him for how long it took. Didn't think he'd be come for anyway.
It's strange and rocky but slowly strides are made to bridge the gap of decades and become people they want to be, again. Brothers, friends, explorers. They never body swap again, but they settle into themselves and own who they are.
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riddlecrux · 3 years
Text
Why rejection leads to the endgame: Rowaelin and Elriel comparison.
This meta is based solely on textual pieces of evidence that can be found through the whole ACTOAR and TOG series written by SJM. My observations come from the text and what was given to us, the audience, by the author of the book. This post is going to be about two very prominent scenes that occur to the main characters and how they are played in the books, setting-wise but also plot-wise. Of course, a small warning: this is strictly pro-Elriel meta, so if it isn't your cup of tea you are in the wrong place. Also: SPOILERS FOR TOG!
I would like to start this meta with a short preface about how I am going to approach the subject. The things I will be looking into are setting, wording, and emotional attachments. (With a sprinkle of speculations).
We will begin with Rowaelin and how the rejection scene developed. The plotline setting is after a very tense situation, which was confronting Arobynn.
Queen of Shadows, pg. 321
Rowan was done waiting. (...) The lamplight glinted off the combs in her hair and along the golden dragon on the dress.
Emphasis on: - hair - light, and how it glides across combs of Aelin hair - "glinted"
Also worth mentioning is how Rowan finally overcame his inner battle. He became impatient.
Azriel POV, pg. 1
Azriel couldn't stop it. (...) he found himself leaving the room. Entering the foyer. (...) and there she was. The faelights gilded Elain's unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn.
Emphasis on: - hair - light, and how it lightens Elain hair - "gilded"
Again, we have a male who is questioning his inner feelings and after an imminent mind battle, he decides to move and goes towards a place when he meets up with a female.
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 321-322
She half turned toward him. (...) The look in her eyes—guilt, anger, agony—hit him like a blow to the gut.
(...) and though she tried to hide it, he could see the fear in her gaze, and the guilt.
Rowan can read Aelin without words. Just one look and he knows exactly what she feels or what hides behind her words - which often are laced with lies. Yet, he, Rowan was able to always see beneath the false facade - even before they were told about them being true mates.
Azriel POV, pg. 2
Lie. Well, the second part was a lie. He didn't need his shadows to read her tone, the slight tightening of her face.
Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days.
Azriel, just as Rowan can easily deduct lies underneath Elain's words. Him being a shadowsinger and spymaster could help him in knowing the truth, yet we have an emphasis on the fact that he didn't need his powers to realize and catch Elain's lie based on her tone and facial expressions.
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 322
He watched her throat bob as she swallowed.
Azriel POV, pg. 2
He watched her swallow.
The same imagery, similar wording. Both males are focused on the females' emotions and their nervousness/trepidation.
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 322
She rested her head against his chest, the tips of the bat-wing combs digging into him enough that he eased them one at a time from her hair. The gold was slick and cold in his hands (...)
Emphasis on: - Aelin initiating physical contact - piece of jewelry - golden color - Aelin's hair
Azriel POV, pg. 2-3
"Put it on me?" His head went quiet. But he took the necklace, opening the clasp as she exposed her back, sweeping her hair up in one hand to bare her long, creamy neck.
The golden necklace seemed ordinary -- its chain unremarkable.
Emphasis on: - Elain initiating physical contact - piece of jewelry - golden color - Elain's hair
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 323
She huffed a laugh that might have been a sob and wrapped her arms around his waist as if trying to steal his warmth.
He flattened his hand against her waist, his fingers contracting once as if debating letting her go.
We have Aelin seeking Rowan's touch, she is the one who pushes on the physical line between them. It's important to note that it's her constantly assessing Rowan, trying to close the distance between them. She's acting on her feelings and a need for closure.
Emphasis on the wording used by SJM: - "flattened his hand (...)"
Azriel POV pg. 3
Elain shivered, and he took a damn long time fastening the clasp.
Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck.
Emphasis on: - "until his palm lay flat (...)"
In this setting, we have Elain who, once again, closes on the distance between her and Azriel. Just like Aelin she chooses to move along her feelings - which are obstructed from the reader's point of view due to the text being singular POV. It is her who slowly builds up the courage and makes Azriel touch her. Settle on her skin.
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 323
She waited for him to pull back, but he just stared at her—stared into her in that way he always did. Friends, but more. So much more, and she’d known it longer than she wanted to admit.
Carefully, she stroked her thumb across his cheekbone, his face slick with the rain.
Aelin realizes her feelings. She comes with the terms of their friendship and its possible development - both she and Rowan started out on the wrong foot, yet they formed an amazing friendship. They built their relation slowly, surely with many heartful moments that bordered on the line of friendship and something more.
Emphasis on: - Aelin "stroking" Rowan's face
Azriel POV pg. 3
It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching.
Azriel's fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine.
Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture.
As in the Rowaelin case, Elain and Azriel also built their relationship from a friendship. It was formed during the very dark period of time on Elain's behalf - just like it was for Aelin's. Both Azriel and Elain found comfort with each other, they both started to enjoy the company of the other - sitting in comfortable silence. Yet, we have an idea that this friendship slowly started to bloom into something riskier, more emotional. Both, Azriel and Elain already had their first love ripped away, never fulfilled, and ending in a painful manner. And for the first time when we are inside Azriel POV, it confirms that they balanced on this thin line for a while.
Emphasis on: - Azriel "brushing" Elain's throat and nape
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 323
It hit her like a stone—the wanting. She was a fool to have dodged it, denied it, even when a part of her had screamed it every morning that she’d blindly reached for the empty half of the bed.
Emphasis on: - realization of desire - mornings in the bed - desperate search for Rowan in the sheets
Azriel POV, pg. 2-3
Prayed she didn't understand the shift in his scent. He had only allowed himself these thoughts in the dead of night.
(...) a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he’d slept there. Or attempted to sleep there.
Emphasis on: - desire - night and bed - looking at the gift from Elain on his nightstand
Both scenes and paragraphs signalize that both Aelin and Azriel fought with their newfound feelings. They were realizing that the friendship was slowly turning into something more - a feeling of desire to not only be close to the other person but also a desire to close the distance between friends and lovers.
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 324
She lifted her other hand to his face and his eyes locked onto hers, his breathing ragged as she traced the lines of the tattoo along his temple.
His hands tightened slightly on her waist, his thumbs grazing the bottom of her ribcage. It was an effort not to arch into his touch.
Azriel POV, pg. 3
(...) his thumb sweeping in long strokes along the side of her throat.
But Azriel just stroked her neck again. Elain shuddered, drifting closer.
Emphasis on: - constant engaging in physical contact - touching vulnerable parts of the other person - answering to the touch
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 324
“Rowan,” she breathed, his name a plea and a prayer. She slid her fingers down the side of his tattooed cheek, and—
Azriel POV pg. 4
“Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them.
Emphasis on: - how the last word before the almost kiss is breathed - "religious" themes such as comparison to Rowan's name to the prayer - Mother (a "religious" figure) being present during this intimate scene between Elain and Azriel
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 324
Faster than she could see, he grabbed one wrist and then the other, yanking them away from his face and snarling softly. The world yawned open around her, cold and still.
He dropped her hands as if they were on fire, stepping away, those green eyes flat and dull in a way she hadn’t seen for some time now. Her throat closed up even before he said, “Don’t do that. Don’t—touch me like that.”
Rowan rejected Aelin in a brusque manner - and it wasn't necessarily because he didn't want to engage in expanding their relationship past the friendship. Rowan at this moment still lacks self-reassurance about how he should feel after Lyria. He is scared. It is something different than the feelings that restrained him from the kiss.
Azriel POV, pg. 4
Rhys's voice thundered through him, halting him mere inches from Elain's sweet mouth.
His stomach twisted as he pulled his hand from her hair and stepped back. Forced himself to say, "This was a mistake.”
We have Azriel who rejects the kiss because of Rhysand. It was not on his own terms. It was an order of his High Lord that involuntarily stopped him from kissing Elain.
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 324
There was a roaring in her ears, a burning in her face, and she swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t mean—” She backed away a step, toward the door on the other side of the roof. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “It was nothing.”
Azriel POV pg. 4
She opened her eyes, hurt and confusion warring there before she whispered, "I’m sorry."
He shook his head, unable to stand the bleakness he'd brought to her expression.
In both scenes, it's the female that apologizes. The one who initiated physical contact. Aelin apologizes twice, meanwhile, Elain is rendered speechless and hurt - and it's Azriel who assures her that it is she doesn't need to apologize. However, Elain is left alone without an explanation and Azriel can't stand seeing her like that.
Both scenes are built in a similar manner - we have friendships border lining on a thin line of something more. Both Elain and Aelin are the ones who initiate physical contact and are the ones who are "rejected", left hurt, and confused. Rowan and Azriel are battling their self-hatred and feeling of unworthiness that is very sound in both of their POVS. There is a lot of things that contribute to the rejection - especially their feelings. Rowan and Azriel feel the romantic pull towards their loved ones - they know that desire and their feelings are reciprocated. Yet, their inner struggles are in the way of fully accepting the fact that the female they yearn for is able to accept them.
More parallels:
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 322
He’d almost fallen to his knees when he’d first seen her earlier tonight.
Azriel POV, pg. 3
He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it.
Both males are on the verge of falling to their knees in front of Aelin/Elain. They are ready to submit to their loved ones.
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 324
(...) understood that though she’d seen his eyes shine with hunger—hunger for her—it didn’t mean he wanted to act on it. Didn’t mean he might not hate himself for it.
In this chapter in Queen Of Shadows, we are presented with dual POV, both from Rowan and Aelin so it's easier to see what Aelin had felt when she was rejected. She tells the audience that she was aware of the fact that Rowan exhibited a desire for her. Furthermore, we have another instance of Aelin being able to understand Rowan without words. She knows that Rowan feeling lust for her might have resulted in him hating himself for that because of what had happened with Lyria.
Azriel POV, pg. 2
Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days.
We are obstructed from Elain's point of view and her understanding is explained by Azriel. He knows that Elain understands him. It's an important thing to remember since their friendship was built on the comfortable silence in which both of them bask. Elain and Azriel, just like Aelin and Rowan understand each other without words.
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 337
He hated it. Hated that he couldn’t reach her when she was that person. Hated that he’d snapped at her last night, had panicked at the touch of her hands. Now she’d shut him out entirely. This person she’d become today had no kindness, no joy.
Azriel POV, pg. 2-4
(...) Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much.
He shook his head, unable to stand the bleakness he'd brought to her expression.
Both Rowan and Azriel don't want to hurt their significant other. They battle their inner demons, their inner self-worth problems while trying not to put the weight of it on Aelin and Elain. Rowan has his mind troubled because he, at this moment in the books, is still burdened with what had happened to his "mate". On the other hand, we have Azriel who can't bring himself to be in the same room as Elain and Lucien due to their bond. A mate that Elain doesn't want. Azriel's reaction to the mating bond is also very strange - he can see it and scent it. Which I believe should be very telling if we're taking true mate/second mate theories into consideration. So, overall the problem of both males stems from the notion of "mate".
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 345
Even now, he honestly couldn’t decide if he was amused or enraged by Rowan’s words—Don’t touch me like that—when it was obvious the warrior-prince felt quite the opposite.
Azriel POV, pg. 3
He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like. Her breasts. Her sex. He needed her coming on his tongue --
Rowan and Azriel want to indulge in their desire for Aelin and Elain. Both of them weren't able to do so because of the "rejection", yet we are presented with the fact that even the rejection doesn't mean anything as long as both males feel completely opposite to what they had told during the refusal scenes.
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 348
Her scent hit him as she unbound her hair and nestled into the pile of pillows. That scent had always struck him, had always been a call and a challenge. It had shaken him so thoroughly from centuries encased in ice that he’d hated her at first. And now … now that scent drove him out of his mind.
Azriel POV, pg. 3
Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it.
Emphasis on: - the scent - how it affects the male
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 348
They were both really damn lucky that she currently couldn’t shift into her Fae form and smell what was pounding through his blood. It had been hard enough to conceal it from her until now.
Azriel POV, pg. 3
Azriel's cock strained behind his pants, aching so fiercely he could hardly think. He prayed she didn't peer down. Prayed she didn't understand the shift in his scent.
Both males explain to the audience that their desire and lust were and are something they are battling as well. Rowan and Azriel are anxious because of their own problems with self-worth that they are struggling to keep as a secret.
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 348
He’d seen her naked before—a few times. And gods, yes, there had been moments when he’d considered it, but he’d mastered himself. He’d learned to keep those useless thoughts on a short, short leash. Like that time she’d moaned at the breeze he sent her way on Beltane—the arch of her neck, the parting of that mouth of hers, the sound that came out of her—
Azriel POV, pg. 3
He had only allowed himself these thoughts in the dead of night. Had only allowed his hand to fist his cock and think about her then, when even his shadows had gone to sleep. How that beautiful face might appear as he entered her, what sounds she'd make.
Emphasis on: - keeping the desire to himself - imagery of the female body - the sounds/moans
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 348
She was now lying on her side, her back to him. “About last night,” he said through his teeth. “It’s fine. It was a mistake.”
Azriel POV, pg. 4
His stomach twisted as he pulled his hand from her hair and stepped back. Forced himself to say, "This was a mistake.”
I think this is self-explanatory. The same words, similar situation. Rejection followed by a declaration of it being a mistake when the truth is that both couples are yearning for each other and want to be with one another.
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 349
The desire hadn’t been what shook him at all. It was just … Aelin had driven him insane these past few weeks, and yet he hadn’t considered what it would be like to have her look at him with interest.
Azriel POV, pg. 3
Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent.
So close one deep breath would brush her breasts against his chest. She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open (...)
Rowan and Azriel didn't even think about the fact that their desire could be reciprocated- and more than lust they were shocked that Aelin/Elain would look at them with interest, longing, hope. They weren't ready to acknowledge the fact that they weren't alone in this spiral of emotions and feelings.
Moving forward we have the acceptance stage and romantic moments for Rowaelin in Queen Of Shadows. Of course in the case of Elriel we are limited to an extra chapter, however, there are still very prominent similarities in setting and wording.
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 378
“Aelin,” he breathed. Not in reprimand or warning, but … a plea. It sounded like a plea. He lowered his head to her exposed neck and hovered a hair’s breadth away. She arched her neck farther, a silent invitation. Rowan let out a soft groan and grazed his teeth against her skin.
He let out another low groan, answer and confirmation and request, and the rumble echoed inside her
Azriel POV, pg. 4
“Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision.
Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut. Offer and permission. He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers.
Both couples operate without words. In the case of Rowaelin we have: - a plea - a silent invitation - an answer - a confirmation - a request
In the case of Elriel we have: - an offer - a permission - a decision - a relief - a need
The same setting, very similar description, and usage of words. As I was saying, in the case of Elain and Azriel relationship we are obstructed from Elain's point of view due to the content being a bonus chapter. Yet, we can draw a comparison between both couples. Why? Because SJM structured both rejections in the same way. Rowaeiln's rejection leads to a relationship, later to a discovery of being true mates. Is it a coincidence? From a writer's point of view and an avid reader - I don't believe so. She structured both rejections, in the same manner, using very similar vocabulary and even the familiar setting. In the case of Elriel - Azriel's "rejection" is what essentially builds a start for their relationship in the next book. We also have to remember that in Elain and Azriel situation we have:
- a mate - political background - forbidden romance - compatible powers - blood duel - connection to Koschei SJM gave us a setup for the premise of the next book which we know is Elain's. Azriel and Feyre's POV focus on her, but we know that it's one couple per book. Which perfectly aligns with Elriel and their rejection and pining. In SJM universe such rejections as the ones presented are used to further develop a couple, not to bring it down. The parallels are evident and if you are thinking that she doesn't use foreshadowing and she doesn't focus on details I would recommend rereading both series and see that SJM is an expert in foreshadowing - even the tiniest bits of it come out through the series.
That's why in the cases of her HEA couples rejection means endgame.
Queen Of Shadows, pg. 379
“This changes things,” she said, hardly able to get the words out. “Things have been changing for a while already. We’ll deal with it.”
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deathwishy · 3 years
Text
x MARVEL CROSSOVER x
Marinette knew that Tom Dupain wasn't her biological father. Nonetheless, she loved him and he loved her. He married her mother when she was two and have been inseparable ever since.
On the other side, her biological father was a prick.
He first came to visit her after she developed a ... rather interesting set of abilities. She was five when that happened. Her mother had somehow contacted him and, even though he doubted it, he came.
It is safe to say that he was beyond shocked when he saw that Marinette was his spitting image, not counting the blue eyes. She had a mischievous smile and sharp eyes, carrying herself like royalty, worthy of the title of the daughter of the god of mischief.
That day, Loki found out he had a demigoddess daughter.
While he was reluctant at first, the little girl grew on him. He visited at least twice a month, mainly to help her control her powers but also to let her know that he actually cared about her, to ensure that he wasn't with her like his father was with him. No other Asgardian knew about Marinette and he would like to keep it that way. There was no need for his brother of father to swoop in and ruin everything.
As the years passed their bond became unbreakable. Marinette still thought that Loki was a prick and an idiot at times but she wouldn't have it any other way. Life was boring anyway, why not sprinkle it with a little bit of mischief?
When she became Ladybug, he knew. He called out Tikki as soon as he stepped in her room and her parents were out of hearing range.
"Tikki, you can come out. You should know better by now."
Marinette was dumbfounded when the goddess came out from behind some books, with a pout and with her arms crossed.
"I knew it. Trixx did say that you came to Midgard and Marinette looks like a miniature female version of yourself."
"I'm actually surprised the guardian gave her the Ladybug miraculous. I would've guessed she would have been a better fox."
"She is a very good match for me too. Her soul is a creative one, but yes, she would be a perfect fox."
"Um... Can I get in the loop too?"
The two gods turned to her. Marinette had her arms crossed, tapping her foot on the floor. Loki gave her a sheepish smile.
"I am a God, Marigold, I do know the other gods too."
The day passed talking with the two deities about all sorts of things, Tikki especially scolding him for the New York disaster, Marinette joining her. It happened before she was born so even if he changed it was still a horrible thing
"Look, daddy issues are a pain to deal with. I was very angry."
"Dad, it's no excuse to be an asshole."
"I know." Loki rolled his eyes then grinned. "But what's this I'm hearing about from Tikki about a boy?"
Marinette flushed, glaring at the offender, now munching on a cookie, her eyes sparkling with laughter. She was shaking her head and vigorously gesturing with her hands.
"Nope. I'm not talking with you about this and, Odin forbid, if I see you around him I'll cut your macaron supply."
Loki only raised his hands in surrender, laughing heartedly. He wouldn't dare cross his daughter, so he swore, between tears of laughter, that he would keep his distance.
"But if he breaks your heart I'll throw him in Jotunheim."
                                                         ...
A few years later, when Lila came around he knew. There was no mistaking the dimming of the fire in her soul. He could see that she didn't want to talk about it by the way she was dodging the subject so he had to take the matter in his own hands.
He shapeshifted into a horsefly and flew after her when she went to school. It took a lot of his power to hide from Marinette's sight but if was worth it. Now he knew why she started closing in on herself.
Loki could admire a good lie. After all he was the god of trickery, lies and deceit. But this girl spouting off the worst lies he ever heard. Not only were they ridiculous, they were also completely devoid of any drop of truth. That was the base of any good lie, and she was lacking it entirely. What confused him more what that some of her classmates believed her. Only a handful others didn't seem to believe her, one of which was a blond boy that looked at the leech, glued to his hand, with disgust. By his aura Loki assumed he was the holder of the Black Cat.
He confronted Marinette when she came back from school. Some of the lies were concerning, they were hurting his daughter and he couldn't let it fly. He assumed the harpy was set on Marinette because she wouldn't buy her lies. That was not surprising, she could see even though his best lies.
"I know, Marigold."
Marinette knew what he meant. She inhaled deeply and looked around.
"Can we go somewhere else, outside of Paris?"
The furrowed his brows, getting more concerned by the second. He couldn't read her in that moment. He could read most people like an open book, but that was his daughter. She knew how to hide things from him.
"Yes. Tell your parents, we don't want to concern them."
After she told her parents that she would go with Loki on a short trip, he opened a portal to a high rooftop over a city. She could feel the darkness of it, potent and corrupting. She figured that was why her father would bring her there, no one would notice them. As soon as the portal closed, she broke down. She hugged him, crying into his chest.
"I'm so tired, dad. The responsibility of Ladybug, Lila and her lies, half of my class turned against me, Hawkmoth just sending out akuma after akuma, it's just so much."
He let her cry, hugging her closely and patting her head. Even after all these years he didn't know how to properly comfort his daughter but it was something he actively was working for.
"But I assume you still don't want me to help?"
"The Avengers or The Justice League would notice if you do something. I managed to keep them away, for the time being, but I doubt they would hesitate coming if they heard that you came into a highschool, knives flying after a teenage girl or if you burnt down half of Paris searching for Hawkmoth."
She sighed, sitting on the edge of roof.
"I can handle it, I think. It's hard but I can manage it. I have Chat Noir and the others, we will succeed."
"You know that I will always be by your side if you need me, right?"
"Of course, dad." She hugged him once more, not letting go for some time.
When she calmed down, she asked him to get them to Paris.
"Dad, where was that? I've never felt a more malicious feeling to a place in my entire life."
"Gotham City. That place holds a centuries long curse."
Marinette nodded then hugged her father one more time before he left. She then went on her balcony, sketchbook and laptop in her hands. The afternoon sun was providing perfect lighting for sketching. She set aside the sketchbook for the moment, opening the laptop. She heard about Gotham from Alya when she was gushing about the vigilantes. She wasn't especially interested about them so she listened politely but forgot everything the next day.
Gotham was dubbed the Crime Capital, which was not surprising. The maliciousness surrounding the city was overwhelming, even if she was there for only a few minutes short of an hour. She could only imagine what that could do to the locals. A meeting with Fu after her patrol that night was mandatory.
Apparently he knew about the situation in Gotham. An old friend kept him updated. He confessed that he wanted to talk with her about it but decided to tell her when she was prepared. Fighting that kind of corruption would be hard and it would take years. They decided to put a pin in it and deal with it after they defeated Hawkmoth. Marinette did NOT need this on her plate now.
                                                          ...
Things got a little complicated when Wonder Woman decided to drop by. It was night, just a few hours after an akuma attack. Ladybug had to patrol on her own, Chat Noir was held back in his civilian life. She caught Ladybug on the Eiffel Tower, just when she was finishing her round.
"Ladybug."
"Wonder Woman. I wasn't aware that you would be coming by."
"I apologize, but this is important. Your presence is required at a summit between The Avengers and The Justice League. Some discussions will be about the situation in Paris and as the city is in your jurisdiction, you are invited to attend."
Marinette felt like she didn't tell the whole truth but agreed, under the condition to bring Chat Noir too. They were a team.
Loki wanted to come along but Marinette shot the idea down quickly. The was a chance that Thor would notice and everything would go south very quickly. She didn't need an international incident on her hands. The others didn't trust Loki but they were civil with each other after the brothers made amends and he helped them a couple of times. Still, she didn't think they would appreciate Marinette bringing an unauthorized guest.
                                                           ...
A few weeks later they were in a secret base in the Alps. After she got the coordinates of the location she used the horse miraculous to get there. They were fairly early, only a few members of both teams being present. Batman with his team, Thor, Wonder Woman, Black Widow, Winter Soldier and Green Arrow.
Batman was the first one to greet her, soon after she closed the portal.
"Tikki, Kaalki, divide."
The horse kwami landed in her hand, where a sugar cube was waiting for her. She then nestled on top of her head. She slid the glasses there too, for easy access, just in case.
"Ladybug, glad you could come." Batman greeted her cordially. She shook his outstretched hand.
"Of course. After all, I was said this was concerning us."
Before Batman could say anything, a man dressed in black, with a blue bird symbol on his chest jumped in front of her, grinning like a child.
"I can't believe it, you are a real magical girl!"
Ladybug took a step back, blinking, a little shocked by the grown man's reaction.
"Tt. Nightwing, be professional."
"Yeah Wingman, you're going to scare the little Pixie."
"Ignore them, they are idiots." Said one of them, coming beside her. She identified him as Red Robin, one of Batman's... Associates? It felt wrong to call him a sidekick. That would be Robin.
"Red Robin. The idiots there are Nightwing, Red Hood and Robin."
"Pleasure meeting you." She smiled to them warmly. Robin narrowed his eyes, looking at her head.
"What is that?" He asked, taking a step closer to take a better look. Kaalki flew in his face, indignated.
"I'm a goddess, you oaf." Robin took a step back, hands on his katana, shocked by the little goddesses reaction. She narrowed her eyes, suddenly tamer. "Are you famous?" Robin was sputtering, clearly not prepared for the change in her demeanor.
Red Hood burst out laughing.
"Fucking hell, his face. I've never been more grateful for the camera in my helmet."
"Kwami don't show up on camera, but his face definitely will." Chat Noir pointed out. He went beside Ladybug, up until then scanning the compound. "I'm Chat Noir, the fabulous purr-tner of Ladybug, at your service." He made a mock bow, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Ladybug, Red Robin, Red Hood and Robin groaned.
"Not ANOTHER ONE!"
"Tt. I can't handle two of them. I'll inevitably going to break the no killing rule."
"Um, what's going on?" Ladybug turned to Red Robin, who was grimacing.
"Nightwing." He said, giving her a pitying look.
"Oh, come on, it can't be that claw-ful." Retorted Nightwing. Chat Noir lit up like a Christmas tree.
"My lady, see. I was sure I was feline a fellow paw-nner nearby."
"Kill me." Ladybug and Red Robin said at the same time. They looked at each other and laughed.
As more heroes were arriving, Ladybug introduced herself to each of them. She tensed a bit when Thor came beaming at her.
"Ah! I haven't seen the miraculous for centuries! I am not really that familiar with the Chinese Miracle Box but I did encounter a wielder of Trixx."
She smiled tightly listening to his encounter with Fylja. She knows from her father about her, a trickster just like him, who managed to seduce Thor and steal Mjolnir and hide it. Thor decided to omit that detail. He liked the young hero but something seemed oddly familiar about her.
When Aquaman came, he looked very uncomfortable with his proximity to Chat Noir. He was cordial but kept his distance after finishing introductions. Chat Noir did tell her once that Plagg said that he was the one who sank Atlantis. It was a real story, apparently.
Ladybug preferred the company of Red Robin. They had a lot of things in common, from mutual interests to similar experiences as heroes. He asked a lot of questions without being invasive or trying to find out things about her civilian life and actually seemed interested about her answers. She actually blushed when Nightwing called them cute. She could see with the corner of her eyes how Chat Noir was wiggling his eyebrows but swooped up the other boys when they started teasing them.
"Everyone is here. Only the official members of the Justice League and the Avengers are allowed, as well as Ladybug and Chat Noir. The rest will stay here." Wonder Woman announced, leaving the rest of the young heroes pouting and protesting.
Ladybug turned to Red Robin and gave him a wave.
"See you after."
"Definitely." He grinned, making her blush.
Chat Noir came beside her, smiling knowingly.
"At least you're not a stuttering mess this time."
"Shut up you alley cat, that was four years ago."
"So you do like him." He smiled even wider. Ladybug blushed furiously, punching him in the ribs. He only giggled.
"Nightwing and Red Hood owe me 50 dollars."
"You're unbelievable."
All the heroes were seated at a circular table, everyone having an assigned seat. Even Ladybug and Chat Noir, their symbols gleaming brand new on the backs of the black chairs.
"The summit begins. We are now gathered here to discuss the Paris situation." Superman began, opening a slide on the projector.
Ladybug narrowed her eyes. It became obvious that they called the summit just for this. They were trying to take control. She clenched her fists, but didn't say anything. She hoped this wasn't what it looked like. She put her hand on Chat Noir's shoulder when he looked like he wanted to say something. She squeezed twice. ' I got this.'
"Ladybug, Chat Noir, it's been four and a half years since Hawkmoth has been active and so far we haven't seen much progress. The akumas seem to become more powerful and aggressive and the damage to Paris greater each time. We think you might be over your heads."
"What we are trying to say," Batman stood up, glaring at Superman for his lack of tact, "is that the situation is becoming increasingly difficult and we feel the need to intervene. We know that you are young, let us help you."
"You are kids, we can tell. We thought that because of the nature of the miraculous you will be able to neutralize the threat in due time, seeing as it's the same type of magic." Added Captain America.
"We trusted that you could handle it, as you said, but some of us already have doubts." Iron Man said, crossing his arms.
"Your miraculous might not be enough this time. But that's ok. We want this to end as much as you do." Professor Banner added, looking at them like he was explaining to children why they couldn't cross the street when the traffic light was red.
Most of the heroes didn't notice the way the two young heroes narrowed their eyes, faces darkening, but some, mostly those who knew the power of the miraculous, did. Aquaman was uneasy, a sense of foreboding dawning over him, Wonder Woman looked like she didn't know what her peers were going to say. She stood still, but tense, like preparing for an attack. She knew they were somewhat right, but that wasn't the way to help them. Green Lantern was leaning in his seat like he wanted it to eat him. Thor looked around the table, damning every one of them present. They were going to get them killed. Black Widow was glaring at Banner, knowing what his words did to the Parisians by their increasing straining to say nothing and stay in place. Batman was following them carefully. Something about the two of them screamed danger.
Then Superman dropped the bomb.
"So, effective immediately, we take jurisdiction of the city of..."
He was cut off by a sudden boom reverberating through the room. All heroes jumped in a battle stance. When there was no threat in sight, they looked at Ladybug, who had made a dent in the table with her fist. Her eyes were entirely blue. But it was not her usual color, it was an icy blue, that could freeze the fires of hell. Thor held his breath. They looked exactly like frost giant eyes. And familiar ones.
"How. Dare. You."
She didn't yell but the heroes could feel the ice in their veins.
"For four years we've been tirelessly fighting an emotional prying bastard, while controlling our own to the point where it seems that we have none, handling our civilian lives at the same time, trying to minimize the destruction of Paris even though we new the cure with bring everything back to normal, tending to our citizens after they've been akumatized, ensuring they would get therapy and support, even stopping minor crimes around the city and you have the balls to say that we are in over our heads?! We may be but we are handling it way better than any of you do! You are not one to speak, Superman. Metropolis gets trashed every other week with you're messy fights, and there is no cure. You obviously have no regard of the destruction or the victims most of the time. The rest of you are mostly the same. But there is no one getting in your way saying that you're doing a horrible job and trying to replace you. And if there is, gods forbid, you just send them to prison or in a mental asylum. You have NO right to criticize our ways when yours are statistically worse!"
Both the Justice League and the Avengers were silent and wide eyed. Thor was the first to recover. Her eyes went back to normal after she finished but there was no mistake. The girl wasn't human.
"Who are you?" He pointed his hammer at Ladybug. She rolled her eyes.
"Put that down, you're not intimidating anyone."
"Those were frost giant eyes. Answer me or perish."
"Dad would not appreciate the perish part, you know."
The Avengers and the Leaguers were now exchanging confused looks. What were they supposed to do? What was that about? After exchanging glances, they remained silent, watching the exchange curiously.
"What are you talking about?" Thor retorted, now gripping Mjolnir tighter.
"I guess this is as a bad time as any but... Hello uncle."
It wasn't ideal but she couldn't have both the Justice League and the Avengers trying to arrest her. She took the yo-yo from her hip and slid it open. She scrolled through her contacts and tapped the one named 'The God of Bullshit'. After a few beeps, during which the heroes were recovering from their stupor, Loki's face appeared on the screen.
"Daughter dearest. What's the matter, are the others bothering you?" He said in a sarcastic sweet voice. She rolled her eyes then pointed the screen towards Thor.
"L'Oréal blond knows."
After a few seconds Loki starts laughing like a maniac.
"This is the best way they could've found out. This is PERFECT."
Thor walks in wide strides to an unimpressed Ladybug and takes the yo-yo from her hand.
"I have a niece and you didn't TELL ME!"
"Of course not. You pieces of shit are not worthy of the presence of my daughter. I don't know why she even agreed to come to the meeting. She is doing a wonderful job in Paris and does not need any interference. Beware, brother, if you upset her I'll come for your heads. I have to go now, see you soon, daughter."
Ladybug closed her yo-yo and looked around the room.
"I don't care what you decided. Paris is my city. You don't come barging just because you think you can do a better job. And yes, I'm the daughter of Loki but that doesn't mean that I have bad intentions. I'm a hero as much as you are. Now, have I made myself clear?"
"Yes, Ladybug." Wonder Woman was the first to respond. Even if she was a daughter of Loki, the young hero earned her respect. She stood her ground against them and made her point crystal clear.
The rest of the heroes agree, though some reluctantly.
"Now, I agreed to come here mainly because I wanted to say that I have a strong lead. Hawkmoth may soon fall."
After some other arguments with some of the reluctant heroes and a few protests that were quickly shot down by Ladybug and her supporters, the heroes dispersed. She and Chat Noir were between the last ones to leave, having a shushed conversation while the others left.
"We will discuss it back in Paris. But yes, it's true."
"So you're a half goddess?"
"Demigoddess, but yes."
"That is awesome."
When they entered the hall, they saw it was almost empty. She was disappointed that maybe Red Robin left until he was in front of her. He gripped her shoulders and looked in her eyes.
"I think I'm in love with you. That was the greatest hero smack down in history."
She was a blushing mess by the time the other boys and Batman came around. They were all snickering, even Batman and Robin.
"How did you..."
"Father turned his com on when he saw that you looked like you were ready to kill someone."
"B, you are not allowed to adopt her under any circumstances, do you understand me? We do not need another sister."
"Yeah Bats, don't ruin your only chance at grandkids."
Now Red Robin was blushing too.
"So... You don't care about the Loki thing?"
"We noticed that he toned down a few years ago. We didn't know why. Now it makes sense."
"Yeah, trust me, you're not the only one with a villainous parent 'round here." Red Rood pointed, putting his elbow on Robin's shoulder. The latter looked like he wanted to rip it off.
"And you are clearly taking your job seriously. Even father respects your efforts."
"I didn't intend to make you feel like you are not good enough. We wanted to help you, but it got out of hand. I apologize."
"Apology accepted. I understand where you're coming from, but trust me. This is coming to an end. Soon."
When the Bats were going to the zeta tubes and Ladybug was merging the horse miraculous with her own, Red Robin stayed behind. He handed her a phone.
"It's a non traceable phone. Of you ever want to talk, my number is programmed in there. I really enjoyed our conversation"
She took the phone, smiling brightly.
"I did too. Thank you."
She pulled him into a hug. He hugged her back, kissing her on the cheek then running to the zeta tubes. Her cheeks were as red as her suit. She touched the place where he kissed her, smiling like an idiot.
"Aww, I'm going to die of fluff. I ship it."
"Shut up." She grumbled but still smiling.
                                                           ...
A few months later Hawkmoth’s reign of terror came to an end. It was messy and heartbreaking but they were finally free. Adrien was exonerated by both the Justice League and the Avengers when accusations started to appear in the media. Not wanting to live with the Graham de Vanily’s, Adrien was taken in by Selina Kyle a.k.a Catwoman. It was quite fitting.
They have revealed their identities during the battle when they had to recharge and barely found one place to detransform. When they had the Butterfly and Peacock miraculous secured and Gabriel and Nathalie in police custody, they swung to the Eiffel Tower and collapsed there on each other, crying their hearts out for the first time in five years. Loki got there at some point but he kept his distance, understanding that it was their time. That was how they were found by the Justice League and the Avengers. Huddled together on the railing, not talking, with Loki next to them, smiling serenely. Thor almost had a heart attack. When she noticed that Red Robin came too, she ran to him and kissed him like the world almost ended, which almost actually did.
Fu passed guardianship to Marinette not long after, deeming her ready.
After everything was solved in Paris and the trials of Gabriel, Nathalie and Lila, for her aiding Hawkmoth, were done, Marinette began her first mission as Guardian. Cleanse Gotham.
Soon, a new vigilante, with a black fox theme, swung through Gotham with the Bats and Tim Drake appeared in public with his new girlfriend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
When I first saw what the prompt for today was I had no idea what to write. I didn’t want to do the class trip to New York so I took my favorite character, Loki obviously, and brainstormed. This came out. I don’t know if this has been done before but I love biodad!Loki.
So this is approximately 4326 words (I added and edited things on here so I don't know for sure) which is a new record. I did enjoy writing this. Maybe I will do something biodad!Loki again in the future, it's fun to write.
And as a sidenote, Marinette can lift Mjolnir.
@timari-month-event​
475 notes · View notes
mooniefics · 3 years
Note
AFTER CONTEMPLATING FOR SEVERAL MINUTES:
reiner braun 🤪 + “please?? just pretend we’re dating. it’s only for today, i promise!”
this is literally the cutest moonie, i'm proud of you for hitting 250!! ilysm 💖✨💕
oh my gosh i’m so sorry this took me so long,, thank u so much for the request n the congratulations mar !! very happy that my first work for this event can be for my love, our one n only reiner ♡(。- ω -)
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in all your years of knowing reiner, you couldn’t say that you’d ever once heard him sounding so frantic.
“please?? just pretend we’re dating. it’s only for today, i promise!”
those were the exact words he’d used over the phone, imploring for you to come to the official marley high ten-year reunion and pose as his girlfriend. despite how you assured him that you were certain no one would judge him for being single, he seemed adamant that it would be the exact opposite. and after a few apologies for your laughter at his predicament and a brief negotiation over his payment of getting you your favorite drink from the cafe near your workplace for the next few weeks, it was a done deal.
though you admittedly felt a twinge of anxiety upon entering the venue of chattering adults, dressed in the best semi-formal outfit you had in your closet, you could see that he was the more obviously nervous one between the two of you.
“just relax, rei.” you murmured, slipping your hand in his and giggling at the way his arm tensed, “these are your high school friends! i’m sure they’ll be surprised enough that you managed to find a nice girl like me all by yourself—“ he huffed disapprovingly, earning another small laugh, “—and only ask about your work or something.”
you barely finished your brief attempt at a pep talk when a loud voice came from somewhere by the food table. “is that you, braun?!”
reiner’s jaw shifted, a sign you’d come to learn meant him holding back a wince, turning to see a man with slicked back hair and a broad grin on his face approaching. based on his heavy-lidded gaze, paired with the red solo cup tipping dangerously horizontal in his grasp, you assumed he was quite tipsy already.
“considering how late you are, i wasn’t sure you’d even show,” he chuckled, still having to peer up at reiner despite still being taller than you, “but the more i thought about it, the more i remembered you never were the punctual type anyways.”
“great to see you too, porco..” reiner replied half-heartedly, palm already getting clammy in your grasp.
you glanced momentarily between them, deciding to come to your friend’s rescue by clearing your throat, drawing the teasing attention away from him. “actually, he was late because of me.” you flashed a smile, leaning into reiner’s side. “just wanted to look my best since i knew i was gonna be meeting his old friends.”
“holy shit..” porco muttered after a moment of silence, hazel eyes blowing wide as he stared at you like you’d disappear if he blinked even once, only breaking his gaze to turn over his shoulder and call out, “piecky, c’mere! i think reiner’s actually got a fuckin’ girlfriend!!”
you barely stifled a laugh at reiner’s low sigh of discomfort, pointedly ignoring how the people around glanced at porco’s shout. “did you seriously used to hang around with that guy?”
“no..” he grumbled back, “he hung around the people i hung around with and always gave me shit for no reason.”
“wow, rei, feeling a little feisty tonight, are we?”
he scoffed as you reached up to poke at his cheek, able to see the pink flush that had settled over his sharp features despite the dim lighting, dodging your inquiry while he looked ahead. “he’s coming back.”
putting on the smile you’d practiced so many times right back on, you caught sight of a cheerful dark-haired woman sidling over to your small group. “reiner?! you seriously got even taller? who’s this?”
you both exchanged names, offering a hand for her to shake which she eagerly took, turning to reiner for affirmation of your identity, to which he said, “yeah, she's my.. girlfriend...”
“how long have the two of you been together?”
“a couple months—”
“—almost a year.”
you quickly laughed off the sudden nerves of giving conflicting answers, turning back to reiner’s friends and recovering with, “we’re not super big on keeping track of dates. you know how time flies when you love someone.” you turned up to reiner, lips perking into a doting smile, “right?”
his cheeks flushed an even darker red, a sheepish smile brightening his expression. “right.”
“looks like you’re the only single one, pock.” pieck teased, laughing when the man rolled his eyes and huffed.
“you’re still with zeke?” reiner asked, prompting her to extend her left hand, waggling her fingers to show off the large diamond ring on her finger.
“yep, engaged for two years now!”
“apparently still too good to come to anything she invites him to.” porco grumbled in response.
“i already told you he’s on a business trip,” she frowned, taking his cup from his hand and taking a generous sip from it, “i’m sure he would’ve come if he hadn’t had somewhere else to be.”
“whatever you say..” he sighed, letting her finish his drink despite his apparent annoyance.
thankfully, your small slip up had been ignored, allowing both you and reiner to relax when the two finally turned their attention back to you. the night progressed much less turbulently than you’d previously anticipated, reiner allowing you to handle any questions directed at your relationship, not saying anything when you frequently slipped in little white lies to make everything seem more convincing. it didn’t stray terribly far from the truth, you were entirely honest about the way you’d met and the things that had made you “fall in love with him”. 
you took a strange amount of joy in posing as his significant other, just as he gave equally genuine reactions when you wrapped his arm around your shoulder or ate something from his plate of food, flustered and smiling all throughout. for a few brief moments, you almost forgot that he was meant to be pretending too. he’d seemed more than happy to see that you were getting along well with all his old friends.
you learned more about reiner in the hour that you’d been milling around the room with him than you probably ever had in the confines of the job environment that you’d met him in—intrigued to hear that he’d been the captain of the football team, feuded with the neighboring high-school’s while being head over heels for the captain of their cheer team, held the title of champion arm-wrestler for all four years he attended marley—little details that you made you would’ve never known had you never agreed to come. the unintentionally intimidating, humble, easy-to-fluster human resources manager that you’d befriended apparently used to be a total jock, always getting himself into trouble. 
and, based on how many times you’d been congratulated on managing to stick by his side for longer than a few months, you could only assume that you hadn’t even scratched the surface of discovering the entirety of reiner’s character.
eventually, your small group of four that’d you started out the night with had reconvened, tipsy from constantly sipping on spiked punch, an excited exclamation from pieck made all of you turn. “look! the photo booth finally opened up!!”
she was already rushing away for the corner of the venue before anyone could say a word, everyone following suit with a laugh as she stuffed a five dollar bill into the pay slot.
“uhh, pieck, i think this thing was only meant for two people.. max.” porco said after drawing open the curtain, earning a frown from her.
“but i want us all to take a picture together!” she slid into the booth despite the observation, turning to you, “c’mon, i’m sure we could all squeeze in if you sat on reiner’s lap.”
you felt your face flush, knowing there was no way to work around her request without raising some kind of suspicion and ruining the act you’d both somehow maintained for the entire night. “sounds like a plan..!”
you could feel how tense reiner was behind you as you got settled on his thighs, hesitating to rest his hands on either side of you while pieck and porco struggled to work the screen before them. you were starting to regret not asking if this was okay with him before agreeing, but you were sure he would’ve found some way out of the situation if he was truly uncomfortable. he only seemed to be preoccupied with the thought of making you uncomfortable, something which made a flicker of affection warm your chest.
“alright! we’ve got four pictures,” pieck announced, “starting... now! and make the first a normal one!”
the first three pictures were the standard photo booth antics—one with all of you smiling normally, one with all of you making the most ridiculous face you could think of in five seconds, and one of all of you arguing over what the third photo should’ve been.
“do something cute for the last one to make up for the messed up one!” pieck demanded through her laughter, pointing urgently at the countdown on the screen, “hurry up an’ kiss or something!!”
you turned back to look at reiner, wide golden eyes gazing down at you, obviously unprepared for the steadily escalating circumstance that was only being intensified by the chanting of “kiss, kiss, kiss!” coming from the woman who’d paid for the photos in the first place. and although you knew you had no obligation to do what she asked just because she had been so kind to you despite only meeting you tonight, or because the timer was winding down towards zero all too quickly, you still found yourself reaching out a hand to settle just under his jaw, heart racing impossibly fast when you realized he was already leaning down to meet you halfway.
his lips were still sweet with whatever juice had been mixed with alcohol, skin warm and blushing from your proximity, the hand that had been resting in your lap wandering to lace your fingers with his. the exchange didn't last nearly long enough, the click of the camera drawing you back to the cramped reality, pieck's cheers through giggles and porco's disgusted scoff for you two to get a room.
"i better be invited to your wedding!" pieck joked, reaching across you to draw open the curtains in a silent sign for you to pry yourself away from reiner.
"likewise." you replied with a smile, almost giddy with excitement as you clambered out of the photo booth.
though reiner's expression just barely passed as casual, his cheeks were burning red, even the tips of his ears flushed as the four of you waiting for the machine to dispense your photos. the function was winding down fast, and as soon as your drawn-out goodbyes were finally finished, you and reiner left, hand-in-hand, much to talk over but neither of you willing to speak until you'd reached the privacy of his car.
you turned to him, smiling in the dim glow on the lights of his dash, laughing softly at his sheepish expression, "i know you said we'd only pretend for a day but.. you think i could request a little extension?"
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spiltscribbles · 3 years
Note
57. “Wait a second.. are you jealous?” + Poorly Timed Confession + modern au 😍 pretty please!!!
~Notes: OMFG angel!!! Thank you SO SO much for the prompt<3 You are a complete babe! I hope you like :S It’s cheese, but like also what else would I do? LMFAO XD
.-
Smash Prompt Game  |  Send Me A Prompt💜 |  A Reblog Is Like An I Love You!!
.-
“Hmmm… All right, would you rather, mmm… Smell Borris Johnson’s sweaty gym socks, or snog Professor Slughorn full on the mouth for a straight minute— oh erm, not so straight I reckon on second thought.”
Remus wrinkles his nose at him from across the bed, and clucks his tongue at the awful pun. “You’re unruly.”
“And you’re dodging,”
“Am not arse, I’m just recovering from that very terrifying scenario you’ve spewed out like the sadistic satanist you are.”
“Which scenario are you recovering from though?” Sirius leers, wiggling his eyebrows and jostling Remus’s textbook with his foot.
“I hate that you’re enjoying this so much,” Remus intones in a deadpan.
“Mary John, I’m waiting,” Sirius says with far too much glee.
Sometimes Remus is sure that he hates him. “Fine, the answer is I hate you.”
“Filthy and slanderous lies, Lupin.”
“You’re demented.”
“Five. Four. Three—“
“I won’t choose.”
“See,  all I hear is that you wanna get it on with our chemistry professor, you saucy minx, you.”
Remus sniffs. “Better than touching that prick with even a ten foot pole.”
“Mmmm, have I ever told you how hot and heavy I get hearing you talk politics at me?”
Remus throws him the bird, which makes Sirius laugh. Remus can objectively say that Sirius has the most beautiful variations of laughter in the world, and he’d know considering he’s catalogued each one. This version is definitely top three. His care free, effortless laugh when Remus takes him off guard with a snide remark or lowly muttered retort that’s not appropriate for most company— It’s really more of a experience, truly. His breaths stutter out in a lovely staccato, and his eyes glimmer like the sea, and sometimes it feels like the world’s been suspended and it’s only the two of them in that slice of eternity.
Erm, Ah, but yeah…. That only happens occasionally, and it’s only because Sirius is Remus’s greatest friend— has been since the final year of primary school after Remus had moved to the London outskirts from his small, coastal town in Wales, and on first sight, Sirius swung a snowball straight to Remus’s face, which he of course responded to by throwing two more his way, and well… The pair of them were soaking and breathless by the end of it, but their fate was sealed, they were the greatest of friends, and nothing would ever alter that unquestionable staple.
So what if sometimes Remus’s chest thuds painfully when Sirius dimples his way, or Remus only ever wants to talk to him over anyone else— even Lily or his Mam— if he’s had a bad day, or good one, or if something remarkable had happened, or , or… Or whenever really. And there’s absolutely no significance that Remus can’t help the totally delighted grin that splits his face in half whenever he gets a text or snap from Sirius.
None of that is at all relevant.
Sirius is Remus’s greatest friend, and he’d never risk ruining that by allowing some pesky little crush swallow him whole and clammer out his mouth— vulnerable and throbbing in the open space between them. It doesn’t matter if Marlene always makes kissy faces their way, or how James only ever refers to them as a couple, and so what if Peter’s got a pole running that Remus knows basically the whole school is betting on. 
They’re all wrong, Sirius would never, ever feel the same sort of way that Remus does him, that’s downright preposterous and ridiculous and just simply impossible. And Remus’s perfectly content with that very real truth… He is.
Remus is fine with it God help him. So everyone else just needs to but the fuck out of their business.
Besides, this, this right now— Him and Sirius splayed out on opposite ends of Remus’s bed, with Sirius’s feet nudging at Remus’s elbow whenever he’s got a question about there homework, with the window cracked open just so, letting in some of the chilly winter air because Sirius absolutely can not focus if he’s not cold— the fucking furnace— Where Remus can still hear the going ons of his family playing out on the floor below them… This is the most perfect place in Remus’s eyes, and he won’t ever change that, especially not to live out some boyhood fantasy that would never come into fruition in his wildest of dreams.
Remus’s content… He is… He has to be or else he’d lose one of the most vital people in his world.
.-
“You’ve got footie practice after school, right?”
“Mmhmm, you coming to watch?”
“Only if you admit i’m your good luck charm,” Remus sardonically bats his lashes at Sirius as if he was in a mascara advert, and the taller boy  blows a raspberry right back at him.
“Nice, real nice. You’re extraordinarily mature, you know that, Black?”
“And sexy, don’t forget that, oh so important descriptor Lupin.”
Remus leans against the locker besides Sirius’s, watches as he trades his current binders for the lot he’ll need for the afternoon, and tries really hard not to stare too longingly at how Sirius’s arm muscles ripple beneath their school’s  maroon, uniform jackets  in the most delicious of ways. (He hates the fact he’s been dissolved into a starry eyed mess lusting over the star striker, but thus is his fate.)
“I’d never commit such a faux pas, and I’m insulted that you’d ever think as much.”
Sirius sneers at him with a slight shake to his head. “So you coming or not?”
“I’m still contemplating my options,” he preens, but before Sirius could retort, Marlene, megawatt smile and dangerously sharp  smirk— swaggers over towards them.
“Good morning my two beautiful chums!”
“What do you want?” Sirius asks before even glancing her way, to which Marlene blinks up at him, faux owlish. “S, I just wanted to greet a couple of my closest companions this lovely December morning,” she defends herself.
“Marls, you’re never this agreeable before noon,” Remus points out hesitantly.
“ And you rarely are even afterwards,” Sirius tacks on.
“Rude,” she pouts.
“Accurate,” Remus pipes in with an apologetic grimace.
Marlene stares them both down for a solid minute before finally relaxing her shoulders, and thrusting out the legal pad in her grasp. “The student council and spirit society are selling corsages for the snowflake formal, and Dorcas has deployed me to get some orders.”
“Whipped,” Sirius teases through a counter-fit cough.
Marlene doesn’t hesitate before smashing the legal pad on his head. “And you traipsing around getting people to buy the tickets for the theatre department last semester even though Re was only playing Mercutio wasn’t you being wrapped around his littlest finger?”
Remus flushes, feeling an unnerving amount of bees stinging around his stomach, and is thankful when the conversation pauses after Sirius casts her a very heated V.  “Sod off.”
“So are you guys gonna buy or not?” Marlene huffs, weight slung to her left hip, and arms crossed against her chest.
“I’m a gay bloke, Marls, did you forget that?” Remus pins her with a one eyed squint, and she just scrunches her face up at him, exasperated.
“I’m sure there’s matching boutonnieres.”
“Fine, I just don’t have any school spirit  then.”
This time she glares. “Lily and James are Head Boy and Head Girl, isn’t there like an oath between you lot,  one for all and all for one, or some rot?”
“That’s the three musketeers,” he says.
“isn’t that basically who you guys are?” She reasons.
Before their wage of words could continue, Sirius just grabs the order form out of Marlene’s hands and fills out a sheet with the flurry of his pen. “Happy?”
“Positively delighted,” she leers, pecking them both on the cheek before strutting off, reminding them of their group study session at Alice’s tonight in her wake.
Sirius shakes his head, reluctantly amused with a grin gathering on the corners of his mouth, but for Remus everything feels like it’s frozen. “You didn’t have to do that you know? ’S not like James is much of a Head Boy anyhow, and Lily wouldn’t have really cared.”
Sirius shrugs, commences their walk to the opposite wing of the school for their shared history class. “Emmy likes that sort of romantical shite.”
Remus sees red, feels his heart lodging in his damn esophagus. “Oh, so— Erm,  you’re taking her then,” Remus wonders if his tone sounds as detached as he feels.
“Yeah,” Sirius eyes him, questioning. “She wants that title of snow queen real bad, made me promise I’d campaign with her and the whole shtick.”
“Oh,” it’s like Remus could feel it when he closes off completely, can feel his hopes squashed down and his heart contract and his every organ collapsing in on themselves, leaving him feeling hollowed out completely.
Sirius slows down marginally, eyeing him with a slight frown. “Is that all right? I know you two don’t exactly get along and we were planning to go as a group, bu—“
“It’s fine,” Remus hates how screechy his voice gets, how he feels like he’s about to scream. “You two are a shoe in, no doubt.”
Sirius tries to mirror Remus’s faux excitement with a tepid grin of his own, but Remus doesn’t let him, instead commandeering their typical table on the back row and tries focussing on the thousandth war with France while his world tilts off kilter.
.-
Emmy is beautiful, and popular and her smile alone dazzles the whole room. She’s everything that Sirius should look for in a partner, someone to match his whip lash wit, and his taste for all things exuberant that skirt on flashy, and someone who’s got just as many friends and admirers as him.
They’re perfect and Remus should just get over his petty ass hatred of her, even if he still thinks she can be down right cruel and selective and selfish. Qualities Sirius surely isn’t… But maybe it’s all in his head how she sneers at people who she finds plane, or how she literally guffaws over the misfortune of others. Maybe his perception of how she wields people in like moths to a flame just to get what she wants is all a misunderstanding, or in his head or something.
Maybe all that’s possible, even if Remus seriously doubts it.
But at the end of the day, Sirius loves her— has been basically infatuated by Emmeline Vance since she first transferred at the start of their Freshman year. Sirius loves her, and who ever Sirius loves is merely an extension of him… Right?
Remus just needs to get over it and somehow rid himself of this crush he’s been fostering for so long it’s basically a part of him at this point. Though, he thinks it’d be a lot easier if he didn’t see their faces plastered on posters everywhere the week and a half leading up to the dance— looking like actual royals that would put Will and cate to shame.
.-
“Yo cheekbones!”
Remus starts, swivels around from where he was scratching his pen to paper, finding Sirius— as glimmering and beautiful as always— swaggering up to him, insanely electric smile painted over his face.
“Would you rather eat a jumbo jar of jalapeños without a break, or eat the toenails from someone with athlete’s foot next to your dinner every night of the rest of your life?”
“I thought you were having lunch with Emmy to keep up your royalty status before this weekend?” Remus asks, tacitly side stepping from the horrific images swimming to the forefront of his mind because of his cruel question.
“Now that doesn’t sound like an answer to my ultimatum,” Sirius says in a singsong sort of voice.
“You answer me first,” Remus says airily.
“But I asked first,” Sirius argues haughtily.
“Well both your options would kill me, so I wouldn’t do either,” Remus retorts.
“That’s not how the game works!”
“You’re the one who always says that rules were made to be broken,” Remus says, lofty as all get out,, and dissolves into laughter at the completely cross look Sirius’s giving him.
“You were born to be contrary, weren’t you?”
“So lunch?”
“Got bored,” he shrugs, hopping onto the corner of the desk Remus’s working on. “What you up to instead of eating?”
“My position paper for Model UN.” Sirius smiles down at him, and Remus can’t help the flush that spreads across his cheeks in return. “Not as glamorous as running as Snow King, I know.”
“It’s precious,” Sirius contends, his soft timbre sounding like syrup and his long fingers fluttering against Remus’s skin, pushing back a lock of his ever disheveled, tawny curls in a far to gentle way, and Remus gulps before averting his gaze to break the sudden tautness that’s built between them. 
They’ve had so many of these almost moments, ones that Remus’s always treasured but he knows doesn’t mean much of anything at all to Sirius— Sirius who is effortlessly hilarious, and brims with genius and  who is so beautiful that sometimes it hurts looking at him for too long. Sirius who has a new suitor at his beck and call on a near weekly basis. But whenever they transpire now, it just hurts all the more because Remus knows in his heart of hearts that they will never lead anywhere, and Sirius is in love with Emmy and Remus can’t let himself float around in this daydream for any longer.
“Ahem,” he clears his throat, shuffles in his seat only slightly. “I’m Algeria so my Mam’s pretty excited about it. She’s been telling me all the stuff Wikipedia’s got wrong and everything.”
Sirius laughs, but it doesn’t touch his eyes. “Your mother is kinda everything, you know that?”
Remus twists his mouth up, reluctant. “Don’t tell her as much, or else she’ll go on and on how she won Miss Teen Great Britain when she was only sixteen.”
“Hmm, I was wondering where you got that pretty face.”
“You, Sirius Black, can go lick an unwashed arse.”
“You’ll never catch a suitor with that cheek of yours though. I’d work on that, Lupin.”
“I don’t think I could ever win Miss Congeniality, alas.”  Remus doesn’t quite catch Sirius’s reply, to busy responding too the text his phone just chirped with instead.
“Mary John, are you listening?”
“Uh-huh.”
Sirius’s brows hike up, flabbergasted smile stretched across his face. “So totally rude! And I came all the way here— to the place where dreamers die— just to spend time with you.”
“Sorry,” Remus gives him an abashed little half grin before setting the phone back down. “’s just Fabian.”
Sirius’s expression drops, goes inquisitive instead of his typical ebullience. “Fabian? Why’s Fabian Prewett texting you, and why is he,” Sirius crooks his head so he’s able to read the new message that popped up on Remus’s phone’s screen. “Asking about color coordination?”
Remus blushes for an entirely new reason now, one he likes much less. “Ah, he’s the sort to like it when our suits like match, but not in an abrasive fashion, you know?”
Sirius’s face goes scarily blank.
“Your suits? Suits for what?”
“The dance…” Remus says slowly, he’s confused what Sirius’s confused about.
“The dance… Right… I thought you were still going with everyone else?”
“Pff, no way,” Remus scoffs. “Lily’s  only pretending to be single, you know how red in the face she gets whenever around James. They’ll end up dancing the whole night away. And with Dorcas running the whole event and Benjy thinking any social function is a plague on society, that’d leave me stuck with Peter and Mary, . And honestly I’ve seen enough of her tongue shoved down his throat for a lifetime.” Remus is only slightly  surprised that doesn’t even elicit a chuckle from Sirius, who’s now looking a bit stormy— and he thinks he’ll never be accustomed to his mercurial moods that can change as quickly as the snap of the finger.
“Right… So you’re going with Fabian Prewett… as your date?”
“Yes… Why is that so hard to believe?”
“it’s, it’s not,” Sirius scrambles, suddenly standing up.
“Then why are you being so weird about this,” Remus argues, getting up to meet him at his level.
“Am not!”
“You’re going with Emmy,” Remus reminds him, this edge of desperate.
“I know I am, okay. But you— you—“ Sirius tappers off, eyes glassy and lips parted with words he can’t get out, and Jesus fucking Christ is it weird how for the first time ever their roles have reversed. Sirius can’t put any sentences together, and everything Remus’s been beating down—  everything thrashing inside of him— are now burning his throat and warring over who can spill out first.
“What? I’m suppose to stay behind like the pathetic, nobody friend. The guy who’s just there to moon after you while you have an actual life. The Judie garland to your Mickie Roomie!”
“What are you even talking about right now!” Sirius shouts, sounding as torn apart as Remus feels.
“As if you don’t know!” He snarls, collecting his books into his backpack— Suddenly this room feels to stifling. He can’t breathe and it’s too hot and his chest is pounding.
He’s imploding and Remus has no idea how to rectify it.
“Just stop! Remus Stop!”
“leave me the fuck alone Sirius!”
“Why are you being such a prick about this!”
And that, that makes Remus angry, angrier than he’s ever been.
Before he could even think about it for a moment longer, Remus is rounding on him, dashing so close to Sirius that he can taste his breath with how close their faces are skirting against each other.
“I’m in love with you! I’ve been in love with you for forever, and I know that you don’t feel the same way, and I know that you’re in love with Emmy and, and I just know okay.”
“Wha—“ Sirius sputters, looking like a gaping fish. “Wait a second, are you jealous? Of sodding Emmy Vance?”
“Don’t!” Remus practically growls out. "Don’t disrespect me, okay? Don’t pretend that you never knew, or that I was such a good actor. I’ve been in love with you for years and you always knew and Fine, I get it. You never felt the same way, that’s fine. But just don’t pretend as if you never had the choice, don’t make me out as the bad guy for actually, finally saying yes to a bloke who’s actually into me. I need to fucking give up on the premise of us, I need to get over you. So I’m going out with fucking Fabian Prewett and you’re going out with Emmy Vance and that’s that!”
His breaths are labored, jagged and painful, as they race out of him, but Remus can’t move. He’s staring straight into Sirius’s beautiful, gray eyes, and he sees everything he’s always seen there, and hates that this is probably the last time he’ll get to be this close to him.
Not after this.
“I didn’t,” is the first thing Sirius croaks out, broken and helpless. “i didn’t know, Remus you have to believe me— I didn’t—”
“How! How could you not know!” He shouts back, but Remus doesn’t get his answer in so many words, instead he feels it.
He feels it when Sirius clamps his hands on either end of his waste-line, feels it when Sirius smashes their lips together in a cacophony of lips, and teeth and spit. He feels it when Sirius moans in side of him, when his hand moves down, spreads across the width of the small of his back, pushing their torsos even closer. Remus feels it when everything goes into focus, when he takes Sirius into his arms, greedy and excited and disbelieving.
And Remus thinks to all the other times he’s kissed another boy— To this prior weekend swapping snogs with a beaming Fabian in the back of a theatre. He thinks of how there was never anything worth anything when he kissed any of them Because it was all Sirius, always Sirius. And he could try to love Fabian, or some other cute boy, and he tried, and he tried, and he tried, and he gave all he had…but it was never enough, could it ever be enough?
Remus knows it in his bones that it’s enough when it’s with Sirius.
When they finally pull apart it’s difficult to breathe and Remus feels lightheaded and it’s wonderful in the most marvelous of ways.
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” Sirius says in a whisper. 
“Maybe next time give a guy some warning?” Remus can’t help the shit eating smirk that swipes across his mouth and is elated at the adorably cross scowl Sirius answers him with.
“Fine jackass, how’s this for a warning, I’m gonna kiss you now.”
“That’ll be sufficient, I suppose,” Remus goads, laughing against Sirius’s lips when he does just that.
~*~
Sirius ends up winning snow king, but rejects the dance with Emmy, opts to ask Remus to join him instead, as if they were in the middle of some John Hughes movie from the fucking 80s.
It’s utterly ridiculous and overdone and simply way too much— but everyone applauded and cheered and when Sirius kissed him in the middle of it, Remus felt as if his whole body sung with joy.
.-
~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist
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gladerscake · 3 years
Text
Since Always - Part II
(Gally x Reader)
Part I
I didn’t wanna keep you guys waiting too long, so here it is! Warning: Unobstructed Fluff Ahead. Proceed at your own risk.
“Hey, Newt!”
The lanky boy turned to the sound of Gally’s voice behind him, arching a brow at his quickly approaching form. “Yeah?”
The builder propped his hands on his hips, a ghost of a sneer curving his mouth; he seemed evidently bothered by something, which didn’t escape Newt’s notice.
“Have you seen Y/N? I need to talk to her.”
“Do you? ‘Bout what, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Gally huffed, focusing his pointed stare on the Second-in-Command “A little birdie named Zart told me you two were talking earlier. He heard my name. What’s up?”
Newt resisted the urge to roll his eyes, resorting to a tight-lipped grin. Zart. Of course. The track-hoe was notoriously bad at keeping his mouth shut.
“Oh! It was nothing, really. She was just, uh... telling me about the Med-Hut expansion you’ve been working on.” He attempted to lie, but the brief pause, coupled with the way his brown eyes seemed to look everywhere but at him, was a dead giveaway.
“Well, that’s a load of crap.” Gally scoffed, crossing his buff arms, his expression bouncing between annoyance and concern. “Seriously, what’d she say? Did I do something? Is it bad?”
Newt had to physically restrain himself from laughing. Witnessing how easy it was to get Gally all fidgety and weird at the mere thought of you saying something bad about him, was enough of a confirmation for what Newt already knew.
“No, absolutely not. You can relax, mate, it’s nothing bad.” He couldn’t suppress the secretive smirk that curved his mouth as the words left it “It’s actually quite the opposite.”
Gally’s uniquely-shaped brows furrowed in confusion as he stared at his friend. The opposite? What the hell did that mean? He was relieved to hear that you weren’t upset or mad at him, but whatever Newt was trying to say - it wasn’t making any sense.
“What are you talking about? What’s “the opposite”? Come one, Newt, can’t you just say it?” He gruffed, his broad shoulders tensing with impatience.
Unfortunately, Gally was all out of luck, as Newt had no intention of saying anything else. As much as he wanted to give Gally a hint and maybe hurry along the process of you two getting together, he felt it wasn’t his place. He couldn’t just flat-out tell him that you had feelings for him and betray your trust like that. That’s not what friends do.
“Hey, I’ve already said plenty. Alright? More than enough.” He grabbed his rake, silently excusing himself from further conversation and beginning to walk away, watching the puzzlement only grow on Gally’s face “You can’t be that dense, Gally. I don’t believe it. Just... go talk to her, yeah?”
Gally blinked in further confusion as Newt walked away, shaking his head and trying earnestly to gather his thoughts. What in the actual hell was he on about? He couldn’t think of an answer, but he wanted one, and he wanted one, now.
He couldn’t bear the thought of something not being right between the two of you. Truth was, over the time of you being there, you have grown to be the one person Gally cared about the most in the glade. From the moment he had helped you out of that box, almost a year ago, he’s felt an inexplicable need to be near you. To help you with anything you needed help with, to protect you, to make sure you were comfortable and that you never felt like you didn’t belong there. He wanted you to feel happy, or at least content, because he felt like you deserved nothing less. He wanted you to trust him, to know that you could lean on him, and he was immensely glad that you two were as close as you were, now.
Surely enough, throughout your shared journey of getting closer, it wasn’t long before Gally found himself having... feelings. Feelings he hadn’t ever imagined he could have, feelings he didn’t know he was even capable of. Deep down, he knew what they were, but didn’t know how to admit it. Despite how great you and him got on, he was convinced it was strictly platonic on your part. He couldn’t find it in himself to think you’d be interested in him in any way that was beyond that. With all the shanks to choose from, why would you go for him? No, it was impossible. He’d be better off swallowing his feelings and keeping his mouth shut. At least that way he wouldn’t risk shucking up the friendship you two had. Just the thought of you wanting to distance yourself from him sent a wave of dread throughout his strong body.
Yet... Newt’s confusing words and weird behaviour rang in his mind again, and as he slowly put the pieces together, he began to feel a foreign spark of... hope? Was there a chance that Newt had meant what he thought he had meant? He was struggling to believe it, but shuck, how he wanted it to be true...
Gally tried to ignore the way his heartbeat was starting to accelerate as he turned on his feet in determination, already on his way to find you.
Unaware of the builder searching for you, you were just about to head out of the Deadheads, where you had spent the last half hour mulling over what to do about your feelings for Gally.
Your earlier conversation with Newt had stirred a nagging feeling of hollowness in your heart, making you contemplate your course of action (or lack thereof).
Were you getting tired of having to watch him, longingly, from afar, without doing anything about it? Absolutely you were. Did the mere thought of Gally possibly returning your feelings fill your being with ecstatic jitters? Oh, most definitely. But were you ready to finally try and shoot your shot and risk him turning you down, making you sorely regret it? You didn’t know...
If only he had given you the slightest of hints of how he truly felt about you, it would have been easier. But even though you and Gally were close, you often found it awfully challenging to see what was on his mind. You knew him well enough to figure that if he were to have any feelings he’d rather not address, he would be very skilled at hiding it.
God, why did everything have to be so difficult, couldn’t you just-
“Y/N!”
You yelped, the sudden sound of Gally’s booming voice making you jump, eyes bulging in a brief moment of panic.
Gally delivered you a small apologetic grin, putting his palms up in a calming gesture “It’s okay! Just me. Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you...”
You exhaled with relief, trying to calm your racing heart... though, with Gally standing right there in front of you, after you had just spent quite a while thinking about him, made it that much more difficult.
“Shuck... Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You chuckled, nervously, suppressing the antsy feeling within you as he slowly approached.
“I wasn’t! I was just... looking for you.”
He was? You’d had no idea. Were you supposed to meet him for lunch or something? No, you definitely wouldn’t have forgotten about that.
“Really? Why, what’s up?” You blinked, looking up at him expectantly, your slightly widened crystal-clear eyes reminding him of just how adorable he found you sometimes.
Gally’s jaw clenched, involuntarily, as he tried to visualize how he was supposed to ask you this. As much as he didn’t want it to come out so out of the blue, he couldn’t find a way to ease into it that would be any type of smooth or natural. So, with a deep intake of air, he decided to just go ahead and spit it out.
“You and Newt were talking about me earlier.”
Your heart dropped. It wasn’t a question, and you knew it, immediately beginning to feel your fingertips turning cold with impending dread. How did he know? How much did he know? Did Newt tell him something he wasn’t supposed to? You hoped he didn’t, otherwise you wouldn’t know how you were going to forgive him for spilling your deepest secret like that.
Gally’s piercing gaze bore into you with a seriousness that made your pulse quicken in a blink of an eye.
“We, uh... It was nothing, really.”
“It wasn’t nothing.” Gally insisted with as much gentleness as he could muster. However, his tensing muscles and furrowed brows gave you a clue of how agitated he felt. “I asked him, because I thought maybe I had done something, but then he said it wasn’t anything bad. Which would have been fine, if he hadn’t been so shuckin’ weird about it.” He huffed, softly, still not taking his gaze off of you as you bit your bottom lip in worriment.
“Weird, how...?” You inquired in a small voice, the fragile sound of it shooting more confusion though Gally.
“Just weird! Hell if I know what he was trying to get across, but... whatever it is, I think we should talk about it, Y/N.”
It became clear to you that there was no dodging it now. Gally already knew you had something on your mind, something concerning him, and he wasn’t about to just let it go.
Your teeth dug into your bottom lip harder as you found yourself rendered incapable of moving, Gally’s much taller form towering over you and wanting answers. Was this it? Your chance to tell him how you felt? If so, then the next few minutes were about to be either the best of your life, or the worst.
With Gally’s attention already peaked, the way your expression was suddenly overtaken with fear didn’t get lost on him, neither did the slight tremble of your fingers. Concern encompassed him as he immediately took a big step forward, fighting the powerful urge to cup your face in between his large, rough palms.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Why do you look so scared? Come on, Y/N, it’s me! You can tell me, whatever it is.”
Oh, fine! You figured this was bound to happen sooner or later, and now that Gally was so directly asking you, you couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him. No matter how frightening this was, he didn’t deserve to be lied to, especially not by you, the person he trusted and truly cared about.
Overlooking the way your heart hammered in your chest, you drew in a short breath before muttering the words that had been swallowed and shoved away for months “Ihavefeelingsforyou...”
“What?” Gally frowned, shaking his head as he’d heard none of it. “Y/N, you’re gonna have to speak up.”
“Ihavefeelingsforyou” You repeated, neither louder, nor clearer than before, causing Gally’s frustration to swelter as he all but sneered.
“Y/N, I can’t hear you! Can you please-”
“I have feelings for you!” You almost shouted, the words finally leaving your mouth with no means of taking them back.
Gally froze, his mouth dropping open as he stared at you in stupefied bewilderment. He felt like he’d just got the wind knocked out of him, his breath caught in his throat.
“Y-You... You what?”
Unable to take his fervent stare on you any longer, you squeezed your eyes shut, wanting to just curl into yourself “You heard me, please don’t make me say it again...” You uttered, quietly, your heartbeat already thumping in your ears.
Gally couldn’t believe it. He’d heard you, but there was no way it was real... Newt’s odd behavior earlier made much more sense now, yet, his mind was having an impossible time wrapping around it. You had feelings... for him? You didn’t just see him as a friend or, even worse, a brother? He had been convinced that those were the only two options he’d have to accept and live with, but now, with your pretenseless proclamation, he felt as though an electric current had passed through his system.
“W-What.. You...” He stammered, trying to blink back the shock in his eyes “S-Since when...?”
A short wistful scoff escaped your mouth as you opened your eyes, but still kept them on the ground beneath your feet, unable to meet his astounded gaze.
“Since always, really... Since the first few weeks of me being here, since the day you first invited me to hang out with you at lunch...” You couldn’t help the blush that bloomed upon your cheeks as the warm memories you had of him flashed through your mind “Since you started letting me fall asleep on you at Bonfires, since you built me my very own hut, because you knew sleeping in a hammock was making my back hurt...” A timid but loving smile formed on your slightly quivering lips as Gally took in every word, his own heart threatening to beat out of his chest by that point.
“Y/N... I-I had no idea, I thought-“
“You don’t have to say anything!” You tried to assure him, ignoring the strain in your voice “Really, I understand if you don’t feel the same way... But you asked, and I just couldn’t keep it in anymore, it’s been so long-“ You trailed off, suddenly, as Gally stepped even closer to you before you even had a chance to register it. You voice died in your throat the second you felt his rough, calloused, but warm palms cupping your face. A flash of courage in his eyes, a dazed gasp from you, and then, his head dipped, his lips descending on yours.
Your form went rigid as you endeavored to process what was happening, but the abrupt and new feeling of Gally kissing you wasted no time overtaking each one of your senses, making your heart flip and shrouding you in a thick fog of pure bliss. Before you knew it, you were kissing him back, your lips moving flawlessly and wantingly against his, as your arms reached up to wind themselves around him, your fingers momentarily tracing the back of his neck. Gally grunted into the kiss, his hands smoothly lowering to your waist and pulling your closer, nearly knocking you into his firm chest. He had imagined this moment a surplus of times before, but not one of his fantasies came close to how amazing this truly felt, how warm and soft your lips were, how impossible it was to pull away. He swallowed the content little moan that escaped you, his large hands squeezing your waist tighter as you quivered at the raw magnetism and surging affection that pulled you two into each other.
Despite your heart’s frantic protests, you slowly drew back, breaking away from the sweet taste of his lips, your own practically tingling from the fervent and long-overdue kiss.
Gally leaned his forehead against yours, eyes remaining closed for the moment of you both catching your breath, still holding onto each other.
This was paradise, there was no way that it wasn’t. As if by a miracle, all the worries you’d previously had about Gally rejecting you fluttered away, leaving nothing but consuming joy and yearning for more of him in their wake.
Gally opened his eyes first - you did the same a mere second later, meeting his gleaming bluish-green gaze. He thought you were the most beautiful thing to ever exist as you beamed at him, starry-eyed and enamored.
“I-I take it, this means you feel the same way...?” You whispered, still barely a few inches apart, feeling an imminent thrill rush through your body at the enticing feeling of Gally’s fingers tenderly tracing your spine.
His warm breath washed over your lips as he chuckled, a captivating grin pulling at the corners of his mouth “As if I ever had a chance not to...”
Your smile grew brighter at his breathy statement, all the ardent feelings you had for the tough builder engulfing you and chasing away every thought that wasn’t about him.
Gally still didn’t know what made you choose him, want him, of all people, but whatever it was, he’ll take it, happily. If it meant he could have you in his arms, just like this, every day from now on, he wouldn’t dream of questioning it.
He leaned in once more, kissing the tip of your nose with a gentleness you couldn’t fathom he possessed, his grip on you tightening.
His lips then brushed against yours, and you shivered, your heart leaping at the doting whisper that trailed from him “You’re mine, Y/N...”
Gally kissed you again, softly, meaningfully, his hold on you feeling like the only thing keeping you on the ground “And I’m yours.”
Thank you for reading!
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