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thehandworld · 20 days

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Gift Drabble for the TYL!au

((As we both know, you can do as you please with this drabble. Thanks for requesting and sorry that it took a while. But I got it done! ))

This day was a special one, as it was the anniversary of Haru and Gokudera becoming tied to each other in matrimony. It would be a lie to say that life was easy and without trials and tribulations, but that’s what life was. It was a struggle, and she was glad that she wasn’t alone on that.

Her relationship with Gokudera was both simple and complicated. There were many things to worry about, especially with the death of Sawada Tsunayoshi. There were many complicated protocols, but not without reason. She always understood why she had to do certain things, or why she may suddenly be asked to go somewhere without asking too many questions.

At the end of the day, it had to do with safety. Her safety was a big cause of concern for Gokudera, and she appreciated it, but also felt guilty about it as well. He already had a lot to worry over, and he always had to worry about her as well. It would make sense to say that maybe he felt guilty towards her too, what with all the things she had to deal with.

She could’ve been an average civilian, she wasn’t born into the life of the Mafia, but because she loved him, she stayed with him. Unlike others, she had to worry about where she was going, who she could meet, and whether or not the person she faces across the corner is an enemy.

It would be a lie to say she didn’t feel even a sliver of regret, but she knew full well that if she were given another chance, she’d still make the same choices as she did in this life. Though perhaps she would have preferred to become more involved—despite what the others may have said.

As she finished setting the table, she could hear a sound coming from the front door. Excited, she rushed to the door to open it, expecting to see her husband. Sure, the Storm Guardian stood at the door, but it wasn’t quite like how she expected to see him. She gasps as she quickly moves to support him before he falls over. “Hayato!”

The weight of his body once more reminds her of the weight that mirrors the gravity of the situation at hand. Most couples may be able to enjoy a wedding anniversary with a cute date, or celebrate it in a romantic way, but she was probably going to be spending hers tending to her husband.

Worry and fear were the only two emotions she felt coursing through her veins, and as much as she wished she could beg for him to stop—she knew he wouldn’t listen. Just as he cared for the Vongola, so did she. She couldn’t in good faith ask him to forsake everything, and neither would she really want to, despite how much heart ache and worry this caused her on a nightly basis.

She held onto him tightly, trying to feel his heartbeat, allowing his body temperature to engulf her smaller frame. It reminded her that he was right with her, and he was alive. “Welcome home.” She speaks quietly, keeping her voice measured and calm, not allowing her fear to sound through her voice.

He did promise to do his best to return home early today because it was their wedding anniversary. Even when hurt like this, he did his best to hold true to his promise. Though it would nearly give her a heart attack, he did come back. “Welcome back, Hayato.” She whispers as she slowly starts to move him through the doorway and into their home. “Let’s get you looked at first.”

Seeing as he didn’t stop by the hospital first, his injuries shouldn’t be fatal. A quick cursory look showed that he had some cuts and bruises, and perhaps some burns? She bit her lower lip, almost hard enough to draw blood, but she stopped before her teeth broke through skin. A big rush of emotions swelled in her chest, but the pain in her lower lip always reminded her of what not to say.

Hayato was the one in pain, and he was beyond stressed out. The least of what he needed now was to feel guilty on top of that. To have to deal with her emotions. Even if it did feel unfair sometimes, this is what she signed up for the day she accepted his proposal. She knew this is the life she’d lead. Like a supportive wife should, she did her best not to show how upset she was. She could be calm and at least thank the stars that Hayato returned to her side—alive.

Making sure to get him situated on the couch first, she went deeper into their home in search of the first aid kit. She would hear of no complaints or assurances that he was ‘fine.’ She knew better than to simply trust his word for that.

Returning with the first aid kit, she had a quick though run through her mind, and it was the fact that the food was probably going to get cold by the time she was done tending to his injuries. Well, what else could she expect? Oh well, it was easy enough to reheat food, but it was difficult to have to come face to face with the concept of death.

Sitting next to him on the couch, she rested her forehead on his shoulder. “Thank you for coming back home.” She didn’t know what she’d do if she lost him too. For sure, the Vongola would fall apart if even he were to die, surely. “Alright, let’s get those injuries of yours tended to. Your wife will hear no complaints.” She said stubbornly.

Both of them knew that once Haru set her mind to something, it was difficult to ever convince her otherwise. “Arguing with me about this results in me ignoring you. We both don’t want that on our anniversary of all days, so be good.”

Wedding... The happiest day of his lip, he felt so luck to marry Haru, the reception, the party everything was a mix between Haru and his taste, he remember vividly as day, as his memories would bring that image again and again whenever he had to remember something nice.

The smell, the sounds, the taste, everything looked so vividly.

But right now the smell was of gunpowder and blood, the taste was of pure sweat and blood, and everything looked in smokes and fire, honestly, a surprise attack? There were a few cuts and a few minor bruises, yet he deemed himself good enough, it probably would ruin their celebration but he promised. Promised to be there early.

Calling the Vongola to clean and deal with the after, as he gets up and goes to his house... His home to the love of his life. That... He didn’t want to worry or anything but seems like it was impossible not to.

As he opens the door and greeted by her, he wanted to hug her, hold her and kiss her lips, they were celebrating their marriage, but instead all he could do was almost fall over. Having her supporting his weight, it was unfair and the difference too high. Yet she did.

Bringing him to the couch and starting to undress him to go tend to the wounds. The Thank you and welcome, made him smile as he moves slightly to take a star keychain.

In their marriage, Hayato gave her a chain with one star keychain in it, and since then, every celebration as a couple, he would bring a small start keychain different from another to her. During the marriage anniversary he would bring a larger one, to represent it, so it was his way of making everything more meaningful.

Your present... I’m sorry I was a little late. He smiles gently, as he now closes his eyes and let it rest, if he didn’t wake up for the next three days, it is because his body was healing and he needed the semi-coma state for it to do it quickly. But he was home, he made it, he was also able to give her the star gift. Everything... Would be okay.

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Drabble submitted by Neo: May 9, 2021 2:50 pm

It’s been 3 years Neo, and honestly, I really want to take this time to express my love and sincere and honest, thank you. Thank you for be this amazing woman that wrote for me even when I was in Hiatus, not knowing if I would come back or not. Thank you for saying so many amazing things and keep answering threads that has been also YEARS since the start. Thank you for be my friend. Thank you very much. And I will keep saying thank you, and feeling grateful for the rest of the days. I love you dear.

Emi.

#queenharumiura #hayatodrabble #hayatosubmission #submission #TYL line

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kagematsuri · 10 months

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@direclat | cont. from here

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 like I-no would expect reciprocation. Would all but demand to be shown due deference despite the impossibility of the idea that mortal hands might make something to her tastes.

A ridiculous notion, of course, considering how very human their God really was.

And for all that she is a divinity given form, it must be understood that I-no has never expected anything. Neither gratitude nor consideration nor reverence. She's long since grown past the idea that humankind will ever be grateful as they ought for all that she's done for them. For all that she might tug at his metaphorical leash, the choirboy is no different. All she does is with the understanding that, regardless of her intent- good, ill, or anything in between for her own amusement- there will be no reciprocity. There's really (but only in his case) no need for it. All she needs him to do is stay alive.

Well, that was all she'd needed before, in any case.

Now though, there is the reality that his role has been played, the future he was meant to prevent avoided. For now (and it's always for now, there is no rest for the wicked or the divine) humanity is safe, and he has little need to worry about making himself its sole savior. It makes it more dangerous, this little game she's playing with him- because who can predict what trouble it might bring? Nothing she's sure the mortals would say they can't handle, now that they're so sure of themselves. Now that they think their little peace with the Gears means anything.

(As if she didn't watch him die in Rome. As if she didn't watch the Command Gear burn the world because no one else could stop her by any means other than sacrificing his life to her. It might not seem like that to anyone else — but why else, then, is his one and only son named Sin?)

Dangerous, yes, but a game she plays nonetheless.

Because of the possible outcomes, there is one that would be worthwhile. One that might make her remember what it was like, before everything boiled down to that single word he now understands so well:

Inevitability.

She would always be God, and she would always be relegated to the past; unnecessary, since they had no need to pray to her for salvation anymore. Since they did not need her (supposedly) to save them from their own mistakes. That his is the only faith that perseveres, despite his lack of prayer feels like it means something. Like it must, for his sake more than hers.

So when he comes to her, all dark-clad and stern, as though he can cover up that light of his so simply, she welcomes him with open arms. There is little else she can do, because the game is turning in her favor, and with it comes the most dangerous part of all. That singular, fervent intensity of his, all focused on her. He may not overpower her- not now, perhaps not ever- but what God, in the eyes of such devotion (the kind that drives the devout to think of nothing, nothing but their deity) would not feel some reciprocal awe?

"Was it ever really me you were running from?" Though she asks it, she knows the answer as well as he, but if he's truly stopped running, then he needs to say it. She needs to hear it. Just as much as he needs to hear —

"Besides, you're a smart boy. You have faith and you have hope... but you didn't really think that's all you'd ever need, did you?"

#direclat

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regarding-stories · 1 year

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Reading the books: "My Youth Romantic Comedy is wrong, as I expected."

What takes 15 days? Correct! Reading the 14 main line novels of "My Youth Romantic Comedy is wrong, as I expected." and the Volume 14.5 short story collection. What a ride...

What I definitely can say: The anime series was extremely faithful to the books. When you stick to the mainline and omit the short stories, you would mostly miss out on one thing. The best thing!

Hachiman Hikigaya's endless inner monologue!!

Good lord, this boy has issues. He's overly in his own head, makes lots of assumptions, is too smart for his own good, and too clueless. I just love it.

Gazing into the abyss with rotten eyes

Writing a series completely or almost completely from the point of view of its protagonist, basically mostly from his stream of consciousness, has of course its own set of challenges. Luckily it's not plain stream of consciousness but also scene setting and descriptions of the other people's actions, and a lot of the fun of the series derives from contrasting Hikki's assumptions and interpretations with your own.

It's also frustrating... (Also, spoilers, I guess.)

And late in the series I was asking myself, if the boy had any connection to his feelings at all. Author Wataru Watari has a habit of hiding the obvious, and so our main characters beat around the bush to the very last. I did get a tad annoying. But I'm getting ahead of myself...

What actually works quite well is the evolutionary change we see in Hachiman over the series. The way he thinks about people changes subtly and continuously. In the beginning he even calls the ever-lovely Yui Yuigahama a "ho" and a "slut" to her face. Hardly charming!! This is one of the moments one has to endure, proof of Hachiman's resentment towards the world after having been ostracized for so long, his hate for "normies." And on the surface, Yui is the uber-normie, the adaptable, the one willing to change for the sake of popularity - something Hachiman cannot abide with. Initially.

It paves the ground, however, for enjoying all the deeper the kindness Hikki displays in his thoughts later on towards Yui, or how highly he thinks of her in the end. (Though not of her lack of book smarts which he confuses for intelligence.)

While we're at it, Hikkitani's eyes gaze upon a few other things. I was remarking in my original post about the anime series how refreshingly low on male gaze it was. Well, our protagonist is male, and he occasionally compares bust sizes... not in the most charming way, either. However, it's neither permanently so nor done unconvincingly. We did enter the mind of a male teen, after all. In reality, we would have been bound to find much worse things there, after all... Of which we get one hint, really. (I will not tell.)

An almost unbroken stream...

What we also get is a lot of Hachiman's thoughts about his boy crush Saika Totsuka. Which is endlessly hilarious in all its bi-confusion. The scenarios unfolding in his mind without filter - I can't tire of them.

However, for the first 11 volumes we are home alone inside the head of our anti-hero. The last three, however, mix things up a bit. Labeled as "Interludes" there are scenes that take place without Hachiman, written from the view of another character. With Volume 14 we also get a multi-installment "Prelude" that features the scene between Yui and Yukino we didn't get a detailed glimpse of at the end of Volume 13.

What's annoying here is the tendency of omitting part of the dialogue and only describing it vaguely. We can infer that Yukino admits her love for Hachiman to Yui - whispered in her ear. Because that's what Yui knew all along but didn't want to hear. And we get Yui admitting the same to Yukino - that she's in love with Hachiman - but again it's not spelled out. We all know. But for some silly reason it's not spelled out.

Another central interlude is earlier when Yui discovers Yukinon's hidden treasure. Behind the stuffed Grue bear Hachiman got her, her hidden image of holding on to him on Splash Mountain. (Which hasn't been quite accurately transcribed into pictures.)

These scenes are necessary to understand everybody's actions for the complex ending. To understand why Yukinoshita seems to reject Hachiman and send him towards Yuigahama. To understand why Yui will in the end ask if it really feels alright and prompts her Hikki's final bid... towards the other girl. And why they all can remain together after. It also reveals Yui's mature side, her high degree of emotional intelligence, and her deep understanding fo and love for others.

We also get a bit into the head of Iroha Isshiki, Yukino and Haruno Yukinoshita, Hayato Hayama, and even Komachi Hikigaya. And a bit more of that if you read the final volume, 14.5. But the star of these scenes will always be Yui, the glue that holds them all together at the end - at great pain.

But in Volume 14 we get maybe the most convincing thing of all, something that I needed after seeing Hikki's indecisiveness for so long. He sums it up like this:

"I wish it had been a simpler kind of feeling. If it had been ordinary love or yearning, then I'm sure I wouldn't have felt so intensely. I wouldn't feel like this only happened once in a lifetime."

This is during Hachiman's confession. He says he wasn't struggling so much with being in love or a crush. What took him so long was figuring out a very complex feeling. (The passage is longer.) He's apparently able to discern between teenager hormones and the fact how well suited he is to be with this particular person, and how important that is to the other - to be seen, understood, and be loved at a deeper level. But the complexity is also discerning it from the love he already feels - like he would for Yui.

Other things you get from the books

One of the best things about the books besides Totsuka fantasies is the ability to read Iroha's terribly revealing rejections to Hachiman, each of them escalating over the previous one, getting ever more like invitations to ask her out just not right now. And her increasing complaints that he doesn't listen at all when she says them.

Also Irohasu's merciless teasing is best paced in the books. And Hachiman's opinion of her. These two would have chemistry for sure. It's just that this particular protagonist was made from the beginning for a particular heroine, and that's what I find so convincing about this series' narrative.

Sadly volume 14.5 only treats us to only one date between Yukino and Hachiman. I was hoping for more, but I take what I get. Even on their one month anniversary they're still all blushing smiles and red ears, but at the same time Yukino is already setting out a common future. Very cute.

If you want a real treat, however, search the internet. There are several anthology volumes filled with content mostly by other authors borrowing the characters - but also the short story "Thus A New Enemy Appears Before Him" from the anthology called "Yukino's Side" written by Wataru Watari himself. It has been translated by fans - I couldn't find a way to buy an actual English translation for any of this. The short story, however, is told from the vantage of Yukino's dad - his perceptions of the three highly intelligent women in his life and how they establish facts for him. The eternal struggle of the future father-in-law is real! The way he finds out that his youngest has a boyfriend had me in stitches. Also, Yukino's mom is on her game the whole time. Basically him mostly watching as his wife, Haruno, and Yukino interact is ... priceless.

#anime series #light novels #high school anime #high school romance #my youth romantic comedy is wrong as i expected #my teen romantic comedy snafu

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writesaboutdragons · 2 years

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Salvation, Pain, and Eternal Security is on my mind, thanks for asking.

It's tied around this guy, this show, and John MacArthur's message this morning on my way in to work. The question MacArthur raised was whether we could lose our salvation, and if so, how?

His message was around Romans 8, and if you've never read it, it's a great passage to read. It ends with this crescendo:

[Rom 8:38-39 NKJV] For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

So the question was raised, well, what about US? Can we fall away? Can WE cause the loss of salvation? After all, the news is full of stories of people who were IN the faith, from what we could see, spiritual leaders, artists and authors, who walked away from the faith. Doesn't that negate their salvation? Can I sin enough, or reject God enough, to be OUT of the faith again?

And what does this have to do with the guy in the picture?

Well, the image is from The Chosen, which my wife and I have been watching. it centers around the experiences and perspectives of the apostles and disciples following Jesus around, and it's very good. For those who care, yes, it IS a work of fiction based on truth, so although the main points and plots are scriptural and I have not seen anything that contradicts the scriptural account yet, there's added stuff to flesh this out, some borrowed from tradition and the stories from early extrabiblical accounts, and some made up.

I have enjoyed it very much and expect you would too. Many episodes have had my wife and I crying. It's moving.

(spoiler alert) An episode of the Chosen recently (3rd season) centers around Peter (in the picture) and a crisis of faith. I will not say what, but he's angry at Jesus. Not because he doubts who He is, but because he KNOWS who He is. Why didn't an omnipotent God in Flesh protect him from harm? (end spoiler alert)

MacArthur pointed out this as well. We all have moments where we have a crisis of faith - where we don't necessarily doubt God's GODNESS, but His GOODNESS.

Can we fall away by sinning, or rejecting God? Well, our sin was paid for at the cross. past, present, future. For Jesus, ALL your sin was in the future. But that doesn't give us license to just go out and sin more. Read Romans 6 if you need help with that...

Those who walk away, who reject Christ? I know this is painful for anyone who has done that, so my apologies in advance, but John makes it clear:

[1Jo 2:19 NKJV] 19 They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would have continued with us; but [they went out] that they might be made manifest, that none of them were of us.

So, what is the litmus test for whether I (or Peter, or you) are in the faith?

Well, examine yourself, to see if you are in the faith. Do you love God? Does the reading of His Word make you want to hear MORE, or make you want to shut it off? Do you want to gather with other believers and share this faith, what God has done in your life, or do you hate going to church, and want to avoid it at all costs? Does trial and temptation drive you to pray, or drive you to sin?

It's pretty straightforward. We DO sin, we are TEMPTED to sin, and we CAN feed the flesh. We CAN desire to hide from God, or run from church, or stop our ears to the Word, or avoid prayer, because if you ARE a Christian, ALL of those things would convict you of the sin you are chasing. And that, too, can be a proof.

But, like Peter, I can't ultimately deny who He is, and when times are tough and trials come, I will remember the goodness of God and the marvelous loving things he has done in MY life, to carry me through the hard times that come.

#Christianity #TheChosen #ChristianLitmusTest #devotional #bible #Christian

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curtklingermanposts · 1 year

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The Cost of Distractions

Distractions Can Be Sign Of Avoidance

Distractions in of themselves are innocuous. They become problematic when they’re used as methods of avoidance. To be sure, they are useful in the sense of giving a person a mental and emotional break. It’s one of the purposes of entertainment. Sometimes, we do need to forget about life for a short while, especially if it’s been tough lately. Recreation is a valuable tool for renewal and re-centering. Distractions do serve as a mechanism to combat stress and fatigue.

However, they can also be quite costly; especially, if one is constantly distracting himself, either intentionally, or subconsciously. This can be sign there’s something that needs to be addressed. For instance, one may use them to avoid the mourning process of a loss. They are avoiding the pain, and the tears that accompany loss. The problem is it only prolongs the healing process. Mourning is biblical. Scripture shows that people were to take a period of time to mourn. Tears are healthy.

Obviously, people use distractions as avenues of procrastination. There are numerous examples of more harm being done by not addressing issues sooner than later. The quicker a person deals with something; the less damage is done. And that does state the obvious.

Then there’s the Jonah syndrome, so to speak. As you might recall, the prophet, Jonah was called by God go to people of Nineveh to warn them of certain destruction. He tried to run the other direction. In his case, God intervened in a very unorthodox manner to say the least (read the book of Jonah for further details). In the end the people repented, and destruction was avoided for a season.

How many are running from their God-given calling? Some use distractions to avoid thinking about it. Fear may be a reason for their avoidance. “It might cost me everything.” In other cases, they simply do not like the calling, because it doesn’t fit what they want to do. They’re leaning on their own understanding. Worse still, they are being prideful and rebellious. “It’s beneath me.” “Where’s the spotlight?”

The Cost Of Distractions

In the Parable of the Five Talents, Jesus said, “His lord said unto him, Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.” On the other hand, to the one who hid his talent, lost everything (read Matthew 25:14-30).

How can we expect to hear, “well done good and faithful servant,” if we are unwilling to obey the Lord? It is important to understand grace is not a get off scot-free card, which we use in a game of take it or leave it. Grace does not equate to carelessness, neither does it exclude the fear of the Lord. Ultimately, brushing God off does not end well.

1 Corinthians 3:13-15 Every man's work shall be made manifest: for the day shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire; and the fire shall try every man's work of what sort it is. If any man's work abide which he hath built thereupon, he shall receive a reward. If any man's work shall be burned, he shall suffer loss: but he himself shall be saved; yet so as by fire.

Faith does require action. Too many say they have faith, but there is no fruit or evidence that backs up their statement. Hearing is only half of the equation. Obedience is the second half. Without it, faith is considered dead.

James 2:18-20 Yea, a man may say, Thou hast faith, and I have works: shew me thy faith without thy works, and I will shew thee my faith by my works. Thou believest that there is one God; thou doest well: the devils also believe, and tremble. But wilt thou know, O vain man, that faith without works is dead?

To be clear, rewards should be our motivation for obedience. As a matter of fact, obedience is a sign of our love for God. Nonetheless, without it, there are no rewards. At least, not ones that survive fire.

perfectfaith.org

#distractions #perfectfaith

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kira-fluff · 4 years

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Heeey!

Saeyoung, Yoosung, Jumin and Zen reacting to to “hotel only one bed” trope ? ♥️

a/n: of course you can lovely! <3 *AHEM* Lemme just say this trope is ELITE and I will NEVER not love it // also, i’m writing it like it’s before they’re dating (OF COURSE) because I want it to be spicy (actually that’s the only thing that would make sense for this prompt but you get my point whatever). ALSO also I’m basing the fancy hotel off my stay at the Ritz Carlton (it was like $25,000 a night) because my grandma couldn’t manage money N E WAYSS. Also, if y’all could let me know whether you prefer Y/N to MC pls lmk k thx

TW: drunk old lady w/no filter, gets pretty suggestive because I couldn’t help myself, an overbearing aunt, savage Italians, and loud hotel neighbor

Note: omfg i accidentally made this so long oh well here’s yo present lmao

“There’s only one bed” PT.1 PT.2

Saeyoung

Getaway missions are mad cool until you can’t sleep

When you finally neared the parking entrance to your hotel you were SO looking forward to taking a nice hot shower before shimming into the covers of your crisp, (clean, you hoped) sheets.

It was past 3AM when Saeyoung finally drove his elegant vehicular device (because what other word is there for it) into a secured parking space

“Because I don’t trust those shady valets, y/n.”

“Whatever you say, Seven”, you replied groggily.

You hauled ass up to the front desk, then to the elevator of the exquisite hotel you were staying at

not that you cared

because S L E E P

but Saeyoung likes to quote Jurassic Park (because of course he does) like “I spare no expense, y/n”

“I’m too tired to laugh”

*gASP*

“Not everyone naturally stays up until the early morning light before going to sleep.”

“It really should become a thing, it’s honestly very iconic of me.” (it’s not)

By the time your conversation ended you were glad to see your hotel number and a little key card slot.

Saeyoung made a show of sticking the key card in like a spy or something

it was funny for normal y/n but not for tired y/n

“Here’s your room, M’lady.”

He held the door open to your room as you looked around the room

a large, lush bed set before a ginormous flat screen TV with complimentary expensive chocolates laid before you as well as complimentary take-home elegant towels and slippers.

suddenly, you heard a knock on the door

blinking in confusion, you opened to see it was Saeyoung

“Um.. hey! What’s up?”

Saeyoung looked a bit bewildered himself before saying,

“Hey, so, I realized my key card was the same room number as yours and I was like ‘That’s weird!’ so I called the front desk who verified that I had placed a reservation for one room, not two, so I hacked into their system to see what went wrong and if I could change it but it looks like they’re completely booked and I think I had made the reservation before I knew that you had to come along and I’m so sorry”

he was breathless after the mouthful he just gave you

As it was 3AM a drunk, old woman was tripping her way to her room and shouted much louder than she should at 3AM, “Kiss her already n’ fuck, ya youngin’s!”

Saeyoung’s hair now matched his face :)

His ears were tipped bright red before coughing awkwardly

“I can sleep on the ground. I’ve done it plenty of times, it’s actually pretty comfy.”

“Um, Sev’ I’m not going to make you just sleep on the floor. If you want--”

“You’re not making me, y/n, I want to do this”

“Actually I think I’ll sleep on the floor, I sleep a lot better on the ground”, you fibbed.

“You’re sleeping on that big ass bed.”

“No you are.”

“If you don’t listen I’ll sleep in the bath tub instead of the floor.”

“Then I’LL sleep outside the room!”

“LIKE HELL YOU WILL!”

“WATCH ME”

the phone rang, a worker politely asking you to quiet a bit down because even with your luxurious privacy walls, guests could still hear you arguing.

Saeyoung began whisper shouting, “Guess that settles it.”

he plopped on the ground, fake snoring with his arm as a pillow

you sighed

“Fine, if neither of us are going to agree to this then we are both going to sleep in this bed.”

Saeyoung blushed lightly at your boldness, a tad worried you’d find him creepy or weird

You started again, beginning to undress a little, causing Seven to yelp in panic and turn around immediately, shielding his eyes,

Now in your tank top and your leggings you’d been wearing under sweatpants and a t-shirt, you said, “I’m gonna go take a quick shower and go to bed. I’m so tired.”

Seven turned around only when he’d heard the bathroom door shut

he sighed, What am I going to do with this girl.

By the time you’d come out of the bathroom, drying your wet hair, Seven was lying on the bed, clad in casual t-shirt and jeans.

“Come on, Saeyoung, you have comfy clothes! It’s okay, change! I’m done in the bathroom now.”

“Nah, this is fine.” This was not fine. Saeyoung was out of his area of expertise of expecting the unexpected because God you were so unpredictable.

“Please” you jutted out your bottom lip in a little pout, being sure to make eye contact with him

Something glowered in his eyes for a split second before he half-smiled saying, “Ah, little Y/n, you know I can’t say no to you when you go all sad on me.”

He stepped into the bathroom to change, but let’s be honest. He was freaking the fuck out.

he covered his flushed face, changing into his soft sweatpants and a cozy sweatshirt. he was scared

the more comfortable he became the more likely he’d accidentally get closer to you and then you’d freak out because you’d hear the sound of his heart beat like it’s a fucking rave concert and then you’d be weirded forever and quite possibly never talk to him again

but on the outside, he stepped out of the bathroom, whipping his phone out with a huge smirk saying, “Smile”

you threw up a peace sign with your tongue sticking out

he laughed before sending it to the RFA chat

707: Sleepover lolol [see attachment]

immediately both your phones blew up with buzzes of notifications from the chat

you laughed lightly, brushing a stray hair from your face to tuck it behind your ear

this was gonna be a long night for Seven.

Zen: UGH get away from her!!!!!!!!!111!!1!!

Jumin: Maybe you should learn to type first.

Zen: shut it cat freak

Zen: seven answer

Zen: hey

Zen: y/n, text “qwerty” if you’re in any kind of danger

Jumin: What a strange code.

You: qwerty :(

707: lololololol

Zen: !!!!!

Zen: ASJDHKJFASHFKJA

Jumin: -_-

Zen: WE NEED A CAR, NO A HELICOPTER im omw!!

You: just kidding <3 i’m fine you guys

707: lololol

Jumin: Have a bit more faith in your subordinates, Zen.

You closed the chat and muted your phone, expecting the incoming argument that was quickly to ensue.

You patted the bed lightly, ushering Saeyoung to lie down next to you.

He obliged, though he politely laid at the far edge of the left side of the bed.

You yawned before shutting the light off and whispering a “good night”.

Saeyoung glanced at the clock. 4AM. Only 15 minutes had passed. You were breathing softly in your sleep within the 10 minutes after you’d said goodnight and here he was still awake.

You suddenly tousled in your sleep, and Saeyoung raised his head, whispering a soft, “Did I wake you up?”

You replied with a soft moan before abruptly turning left onto his corner of the bed and grabbing for the first thing you’d felt -- his torso.

Saeyoung’s breath hitched as he felt you exploring the new found “object”, running your fingers up and down his torso and nearing dangerous areas below

Saeyoung whisper-shouted, “What are you doing?”

He leaned closer to hear your reply, but your only answer was more soft little snores

Saeyoung sighed, trying to lightly grab your wrists without waking you up, and directing toward yourself

no matter how hard he’d try, your arms kept finding his own

your nails would softly ghost over his chest or neck, causing him to shiver and blush profusely

again, he sighed, trying his hardest not to give into your sleepy state

until you broke him with a soft utterance, “Sae....young..”

Saeyoung’s eyes widened to the size of saucers before he dared to look down at you, your hair curling on the bed every which-way.. your mouth slightly agap...

he groaned, his brows furrowed and his eyes shut

at last he slunk his arms around your torso, being sure to respectfully keep them high around your waist

he buried his face in the crook of your neck to subconsciously try to hide his ever growing blush (and erection)

I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this ‘friend’ thing when you’re driving me this crazy, y/n.

You awoke to a sleeping Saeyoung, his toned arms enveloping your small body in a hug

shamelessly, you laid still for a few moments longer.

Yoosung

this bean is lonely uwu

so when he’d invited to you go with him on a trip his uncle had paid for, you felt bad saying “yes” because it’s a paid trip!!

until he begged you because his cousin Chaewon would be there and he was always really pushy and borderline a huge fuck boi

so you conceded

but hey free trip for the both of you minus shitty family gatherings with no one you know, right?!

you hope there’s at least one dog. and alcohol.

dog + alcohol at a party = an actual fun fucking time

you were glad Yoosung was there with you because he honestly couldn’t agree with you more

You opened your beach-side resort room to find there’s only one bed.

Yoosung blanched and quickly dialed his auntie, who’d made the resort reservations

“Ah...hi auntie! Um, how come there isn’t a separate room for me and y/n?”

his aunt cackled into the phone, “Aren’t you an old fashioned little gentlemen!!! Awe~~~ you’ve grown up to be such a good boy! <3 Well don’t worry, I won’t say a word to my sister or your pops. Enjoy the time you have with your adorable girlfriend and get it on a little!! I’ve got condoms if ya need ‘em honey~~ Remember dearie, when the shlong is not covered, the child support better be.”

Yoosung hurriedly hung up the phone, his face completely red, praying you hadn’t heard the conversation that’d just ensued.

You did

but you smile and say, “So.. what’d they say?”

He cleared his throat before saying, “Well, --err.. Basically there’s been a little mishap. B-but don’t worry!! I can just ask Chaewon if I can spend the night in his room.”

“Didn’t you say he leaves a sock on the door handle every time--”

“YES but I want you to be comfortable, okay! It’s really not a big deal.”

You shyly smiled while looking down before softly saying, “You can sleep with me.”

Yoosung’s eyes widened and you quickly looked up, your face flushing to a deep crimson

“I-I-I meant in the bed!!! With me. We can lie together. In the bed---- I mean we--”

Yoosung could practically see the steam coming out of your ears and the room felt a LOT hotter

“S-sure! Sounds great.” he had a feeling if you didn’t agree you’d end up embarrassing yourself further.. and he didn’t want you to feel bad. And he didn’t want those thoughts circulating his mind again.

“Alright, so I’m going to hop in the shower, y/n... unless you want to go first?”

Gulping down some complimentary water you’d found in the hotel mini fridge, you quickly replied with a shake of your head.

Nodding, Yoosung make quick work of washing his hair and trying to give himself a pep talk before he would be sleeping next to you.

Thankful for the big size of the resort bed, you climbed under the covers, already beginning to feel sleep take you

When Yoosung had at last dried himself off and walked out to the bed area of the resort room, he gazed at how small you looked, hugging a soft pillow in your arms, your eyes fluttered shut

He looked away, feeling like a creep.

He shut off the light after making a call to the resort staff to wake him up at 8AM as directed by his uncle’s itinerary

He slid under the covers, shoving a pillow in between the two of you as a little border to separate the two of you

it wasn’t until further in the night when Yoosung had felt a jolt and he looked up in panic, through the blackness recognizing the pillow-border had been cast onto the ground

and even more noticeably, your leg was swung over his hip, your body flush to his own

your arms were snaked around his neck

he felt like he could feel every inch of you

your soft breath just below his ear

your soft .. er.. chest... against his torso

your stomach and .. the rest of it... against his own

Yoosung could not breathe

like someone actually help this man for he is losing oxygen by the minute

He squeezed his eyes shut and make the executive decision to wait it out til morning

he was terrified that if he’d move you, you’d wake up and see just how much you affect him.

And so, when the phone rang that morning, you’d startled, looking up to see your tangled limbs lying on top of his own

“oH MY GOD I’M SO SORRY YOOSUNG UGH IT’S A HABIT OF MINE AHAHHSAHDAJSHS”

he looked at you with eyes that had noticeable circles under them (darker than even after his LOLOL gaming)

“you look like you didn’t sleep much.... --- Is it because of me!? Oh my god I’m so sorry you should’ve just shoved me off or something seriously I didn’t mean to do it on purpose, honest!!”

“N-no, no it’s really not!! I promise!!” He tried his best to grin, though it probably looked like a grimace, because the next thing you said was, “I’ll make it up to you”

“You don’t need to do that. Really, I liked it.”

It took a moment for him to realize what he just said.

“I-I mean I like you! I mean I liked sleeping with you!!! I mean--!!”

Yoosung was quickly spinning circles in his mind

you couldn’t help the little giggle that came out of your mouth, “I guess we’re pretty similar, huh?”

Yoosung smiled lightly, “Yeah, guess so.”

You walked out together toward the breakfast area of the resort

“Hey”, you started, “Is.. Did you mean what you said? About liking me?”

Yoosung glanced away, taking a deep breath before saying, “Yeah, yeah I did. I really like you.”

You couldn’t hold back the big ol’ smile that took over your face as you proudly declared, “Me too!!”

Right when Yoosung was going to go in for a kiss, he saw his auntie suddenly right next to the both of you

“Oh my GOD when did you get here?!”

She smirked, “My question first, dearie, what did you two like?”

Neither of you answered, your cheeks growing red

“You know, the first time your uncle did it with me I felt the same way. Like, what a man! Must run in the fam--”

“OKAY! THANK YOU FOR THAT AUNTIE BUT BREAKFAST IS CALLING MY NAME MM SMELLS GOOD SEE YOU LATER.”

Your blush didn’t leave you as you smeared strawberry cream cheese on your toasted bagel

This trip was going to be very VERY difficult. Thank God there was alcohol. And Yoosung. And probably dogs. And Yoosung.

Yeah.

Gotta love relatives.

Jumin

You received a call from a stern voice you didn’t recognize

<<“Hello. This is Mr. Han’s chauffeur. I’m approximately 6.3 miles away from your residence. Do not worry about clothes or other necessities. All will be provided for you.”>>

“Uh.. thanks? Where....?”

<<“Mr. Han has invited you to join him on his stay at the Ppalgan Vineyard Estates. Have you not received the notification?”>>

You glanced at your phone, seeing two unread messages on your phone.

You read them, feeling bad you hadn’t seen them before.

“Yes, yes of course. Thank you. Tell him I said thank you. Are you sure it’s okay for me to attend?”

<<“Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Han gave me specific instructions to assure you would be able to come with him. I have been ordered to give 2 minute updates following your being picked up. I can assure you, it is his utmost wish that you join him this weekend. I’d be honored to thank him on your behalf, though I feel it would mean much more to him if you said it to him rather than me.” >>

“You’re right, thank you. And thanks for driving me. And for all the other stuff you said”, you replied nervously.

<<”There is no need to thank me, Miss. I am glad to serve Mr. Han in anyway I can.”>>

The call hung up before you could spout out more thank yous

you phone buzzed, startling you.

you clicked the notification

<<(XXX-XXX-XXXX HAN COMPANIES) I’ve arrived at your residence. Let me know if there is anything I can carry for you. Sent 13:52>>

You quickly texted a reply of gratitude before rushing down the stairs out of your apartment, not wanting to make Jumin’s chauffeur wait.

“Good to see you Miss Y/L/N. Is there anything I can get you? I have been given orders to purchase anything you may want or need on our way to the airport.”

He quickly texted something on his phone, presumably a text to Jumin about your safe arrival to his limo.

“A-airport? You mean, like, flying? Are you sure I don’t need my wallet? It’s not too late for me to go grab it, right? I have my debit card on my phone too, otherwise.”

“Miss Y/L/N you are not to spent a single won on this vacation. All is paid for.”

“But my clothes... I don’t want Jumin to have to pay for all new things!!”

"I assure you, money is not something Mr. Han wishes for you to be concerned with.”

You’d stayed silent at that, feeling bad that you’d already bothered the poor man who’d just been ordered to drive you, not reassure you of Jumin’s financial affairs.

You grew quiet, looking out the window as trees, streets, and cars zoomed past you.

“If you so wish, there are numerous meals options in the compartments below the seats as well as alcohol, carbonated beverages and iced water glasses. You are, of course, welcome to any of these. Please do not hesitate to notify me if there is something you’d like instead. We’d glad to make it a regular option in all of our limousines.”

You flushed, embarrassed at the amount of power Jumin’s words, and effectively, your own seemed to have on the entire Han Conglomerate as a whole. You laughed a little, it was funny thinking to yourself that you had so much power as to decide snack options for Jumin’s cars.

Jumin was extra like that, he always went above and beyond to make you comfortable. You loved that about him. It made you feel a little spoiled, so you instinctively rejected most offers at things that seemed to further complicate his worker’s duties.

You had no idea that when the chauffeur had said airport he meant the Han Private Airway Transportation Zone.

As in... private jet.

It was hard not to feel like you were in a whole different world.

Not that Jumin treated you that way... but it was hard not to notice!

You bowed in thanks to the driver before hastily finding your way to the nearest man standing in another black suit, his hands folded together in front of him.

As soon as you uttered your name, his whole demeanor changed and he instantly had gone from cool and collected to humble and overwhelmingly kind.

He’d quickly made his way to the boarding area, escorting you to the jet before leaving you at a polite distance way from Jumin who’d been looking at you from the moment you’d entered the aircraft.

His eyes searched your own as you’d yet to discover his presence

He couldn’t help but rake his eyes up and down your body, admiring the way you could look just in anything.

He at last saw you searching the spacious cabin, at last laying eyes on him.

His heart pounded faster, as if your noticing him made his heart leap in joy

You looked relieved and smiled, running over to him and sitting down next to him

“Hi Jumin!! Oh, should I be calling you Mr. Han? That’s what your chauffeur called you.. sorry if that’s what I should’ve been addressing you as!!”

His deep voice rumbled in your ear, causing you to shudder, “Jumin is fine.”

You gazed up at him through your lashes, noticing the way his perfectly tailored vest made him look so... well... for lack of better word...hot.

“Wow. You look...” Your eyes moved from his hair, to his face, to his neck, to his torso, slowly to his groin, to his legs... before you realized what you’d been doing and quickly your eyes shot up again.

You bit your lip, “You look nice.”

“Nice?”

You laughed shyly, and slightly (embarrassingly) breathless, “Yeah. Yeah you do. Nice.”

Jumin couldn’t help the sly smile he’d been holding back before replying, “You look beautiful.”

You flushed and looked down, squirming in your seat a little before looking at him once more, offering a small, “..thank you..”

After a few minutes of silence, you’d decided to change the subject, chattering on about how you wondered what this mysterious vacation would hold

Jumin couldn’t help is concentration half on every word you were saying, but also your lips. Slowly licking his own, he nodded along when you’d gotten especially enthusiastic, grinning slightly when you’d gotten so excited you’d leapt out of your luxury seat.

Within a half hour of the trip to your destination in Italy, Jumin had trouble concentrating on much else.

Get it together, Jumin, you’re not some fool like Zen.

It’d gotten worse the more you’d leaned further in your seat, your chest becoming slightly exposed

he covered his mouth with a hand, opting for looking out one of the many windows of the jet.

You’d always caught his attention and made him lose his focus -- something he’d never lost before he met you

He blamed the strawberry sent that you’d always carried with you

He wasn’t much for expensive, faux perfume that so many of his father’s skanks would wear... it was like no other.

After a few hours of grueling torture on your part (though you hadn’t know every single time you’d grabbed his hand or arm it’d sent his heart on a sky dive) Jumin was glad to have arrived in the gorgeous Italian acreage of the countryside.

It was even more beautiful at the dusk of night, you’d decided

Immediately a shiny vehicle pulled up, ready to transport you and Jumin to the estate you were to be residing in for the weekend.

Upon pulling into the culdesac, you almost scoffed at the word “estate” -- it was more of a country in and of itself, land stretched beyond what you could see

The mansion itself stood on pillars and high, Gothic windows.

Inside, flying buttresses decorated the building, giving it an elegant and aged ambiance that you just adored

“It’s so beautiful.”

He smiled at you then, watching you take in the wonders he’d realized he took for granted.

He was then directed to a double-door entrance way, “Your room, Mr. Han, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Separate, correct?”

The man stood in surprise, looking slightly aghast, “T-they never specified such details.”

“Contact them immediately to confirm. I’ll work it out from there.”

“Yes, Mr. Han.” From there, the man scurried away to contact the head of the estate.

After a few moments, he returned, “The Rossi Conglomerate had assumed that you’d brought your fiance with you.”

“Did you mention I don’t have one?”

“Y-yes, of course! But, Mr. Han, your father--”

Jumin sighed, “I’ll take care of it.” with a wave of his hand, the man was gone

You thanked him on his way out.

Jumin looked at you, searching for a reaction of displeasure or worry

When he didn’t find one, he began, “I was notified the Rossi had booked their other estates to their American investors. My being here is a formality, but it is business. It would be a great discourtesy to demand--”

You smiled reassuringly, “Jumin, don’t worry about it.. we’ll share the bed, okay?” You held your hand in his own, rubbing soothing circles on his knuckles.

Jumin looked at you, choking on his spit slightly.

“Y/N you do understand that--”

“It’s fine, Jumin!! It’s late already, I’ll just put up my hair.. and.. do you know where the night clothes would be?”

He watched as you fixed a bobby pin between your teeth before running your fingers through your hair, watching as you arched your back to--

“Jumin? ...you don’t know?”

He cleared his throat, looking away, pink dusting his cheeks

“Bathroom.”

You thanked him, unaware of his watchful eyes

It had been a few seconds since you’d entered the bathroom before he heard a loud and alarmed, “..UM....JUMIN...?!”

He’d quickly made his way into the bathroom

“What’s wro--”

He looked and laying on the long granite island of the large bathroom was a silky set of lingerie as well as a note in Italian you couldn’t read.

Jumin’s words stopped dead on his lips as he stared at you, then the silky underwear set, you, silky underwear, you.......silky underwear.

On the outside, Jumin liked to think he came off as calm and collected, saying, “I can get you something else to wear.”

But when he’d made it two steps out of the bathroom he had a little collision. And by collision, I mean his face.. and the wall.

He looked in every drawer, finding nothing. He presumed clothes would be delivered as specified. But it was late already.. their servants are dismissed, only the protective guards surrounded the inside and outside of the estate.. explaining the situation to them didn’t seem very promising.

Of course you were kicking yourself, before you’d found their little....gift... you’d cast your days clothes into the washer. They were probably soaked by now.

Maybe I could use a hair dryer...? Or I could stuff them in the dryer??

Either way you’d be without clothes for.. too long.

And nothing would be greater punishment then showing all that in front of the man you had completely fallen for...

You heard a knock on the bathroom door. You listened from inside.

“Hey, I, uh, couldn’t find anything. Do you think you could wear your clothes from today?”

You whimpered, on the verge of tears, “I already put it in the washer!”

He knocked again, “Can I hand you something?”, he asked, undoing the buttons of his formal shirt.

“C-close your eyes!”

Jumin chuckled darkly before covering his eyes and handing her his collared shirt

“I’d give you the pants, too, but I don’t think they’d really fit you. Could you look at what they’d provided for me? Maybe slip on something from mine.”

“N-no! That’d be even worse for me!! .. and you!” You blushed again imagining him half naked

You hurriedly shuffled through the drawers, but to no avail.

You gulped, slipping on the lingerie to ensure that maybe something would be covered before buttoning Jumin’s formal shirt on you as well.

it was so big it didn’t leave much for the imagination

but you decided through a 10 minute pep talk that you’d suck it up and try your best to make his shirt into a night gown.

You at last stepped out of the bathroom, Jumin’s head shooting toward the sudden noise before taking you in

He could scarcely breathe, much less come up with a coherent sentence

you were in his shirt...

with barely any clothes on underneath

and you looked up at him shyly, biting your lip a little

drawing even more attention to your lips

Jumin had to stifle a groan, opting to head to the bathroom to change

After splashing some cold water on his face in a poor attempt to get his head out of the gutter, he quickly got on his pjs

after you both were ready for bed, Jumin sat on the bed, opening a small novel he’d been enjoying, Anthem.

His attention was immediately diverted from the dystopian fiction when he saw you were stretching

His shirt rode up high as he took in the way the lingerie perfect accentuated your curves, though it didn’t cover much below the waist

Noticing your folly, your eyes widened in shock before you immediately put your hands down

which, just your luck, made it all worse.

the sudden movement disheveled the shirt, causing it to ride down completely on one side, openly displaying the soft brassiere beneath it

Jumin slammed his book so hard it left an echo in the large room.

Great. He couldn’t even make it look like his book was suddenly unbelievably interesting that he just so happened to not take notice of the obvious sight before him.

You blanched, feeling a breeze along your shoulder, gasping before running to your side of the bed and pretending you don’t exist anymore

Meanwhile Jumin is in a c r i s i s

In the most eloquent of words, his mind said holy fucking motherfucking shit oh my God fuck fuck fuck AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH oh my god shit shit shit fuck shit sdfasodjgiajsidogjosdg MALFUNCTION!! WARNING!!!! RUN BITCH!!!

But Jumin didn’t run

because mama ain’t raise no bitch

but also because if he stood up it would be blatantly obvious that he had--

Stop thinking about it, Jumin.

He tried to redirect his mind to his 5 senses, a grounding technique he’d learned when he got too anxious when he was younger

But sight seemed to dominate it as his mind replayed your facial expressions, the way your hands awkwardly tried to cover yourself up, the way you looked the way he’d take it all off---

Oh God. I’m deep in shit.

He had never been so pissed at himself... and embarrassed.

He looked over at you, a horrible decision, really.

You were still awake, your face was redder than the strawberry sent that adorned you

“s-sorry..” you whispered, willing yourself to try to forget, “pretend that never happened..”

Jumin was practically feral and you were saying it never happened?

Jumin couldn’t just pretend he didn’t just see a fucking goddess

but he would for you

“..........pretend what never happened?”

You sighed, a small smile on your face as you quickly turned to thank him

but he was a LOT closer than you imagined

he was propped up on one elbow, looking down at you, his head slightly angled.

And suddenly your faces weren’t so far apart.

And you couldn’t help but slowly close your eyes

Jumin felt confusion when you’d done this

he can be a bit of a pea brain, so he of course said, “I’m sure you’re very tired.”

He shut off the light, reaching over you

You held back the big frown you’d gotten when you realized he’d rejected you

unbeknownst to you that it took everything in him, from the moment he’d saw you in the jet cabin, not to scoop you up in his arms and make out with you the whole way there.

Zen

Was Zen going to invite you to his own fucking tour?

Of course he was

he liked flexing his connections

and most of all, showing you just how much he cared about you

and loved you

but not the love part because God if you ever found out Zen might jump into the nearest body of water and never return

not that he didn’t have any confidence

he has lots of it

but it all kind of disintegrates when he gets to talking about his real feelings

But come on, it was blatantly obvious to anyone who had heckin eyes

or ears

or just any functioning body

the way he’d try to subtly throw an arm over your shoulder

or he’d lean in whenever you spoke

or the way he’d readjust his posture when you walked into a room

or the way everyone caught him staring

like anytime you weren��t looking

or when you are looking because he is “built different”

So the limo ride to the fancy hotel he was to stay at was something that had him looking forward to the tour, but also dreading it

you’d sat close to him in the limo because his agent and other workers were sitting along with him.

So close that your ass got pushed further and further onto his lap

because damn where the fuck are we and why are there so many goddamn potholes

Zen tried to steady you by firmly grabbing your hips

which was NOT the move

because now that you were firmly set on his lap, every bump felt like a fucking war against his hormones.

Like a gentleman, he quickly opted to seat you next to him, not wanting you to feel embarrassed

still, he could feel you being pulled closer to him with every long turn the limo made or every bump or abrupt stop

and it was torture.

like this man is sweating

but by some miracle you arrive at the hotel in one piece! Yay!

but Zen’s soul has left his body~~

so you get set up

You open the room, “Look, Zen! This bed is HUGE!!”, you ran over to it and plopped your face onto the sheets

He chuckled, watching you act like a little kid excited about a hotel for the first time

his brows furrowed when he realized there was no door separator between your rooms

He immediately called the front desk

all you could over hear was “No, there seems to be some kind of mistake”

and “I reserved two rooms -- conjoined”

“Alright, ok. Thanks.” and then he hung up.

“So..” he sighed, “They can’t get another room because they’re completely booked. Someone must’ve recognized the limo and lots of fans immediately bought up all the rooms in hopes of seeing me.”

“It’s alright Zen! I can ask to switch with your agent or something!!”

“NO!” Zen said a little too loudly. “No. Um, look it would be bad because he’s a man.”

“Your a dude, too, Zen.”

“I-- yeah, but that’s different because I’m a guy you can trust.”

“True..”

“So I’ll sleep on the couch, ‘kay?”

“Zen, no! You need your beauty sleep to be ready for your performance tomorrow!!!”

“It’s alright, really!”

“I’ll sleep on the couch!”

“Like hell you will.”

“Please :(”

“Y/N, seriously--”

“Then how about this! You and I just sleep in the same bed!”

Ever the dramatic soul, Zen gasped with his palm over his heart “How SCANDALOUS!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be Mr. Playboy?”

“Only for you, baby”, he winked.

You stuttered, “T-that’s not funny! Seriously don’t make it weird you horn- dog!”

He threw his head back in laughter, “Horn-dog?! I thought you said you trusted me!”

“Not when you’re obviously thinking about doing this and that to me!!”

“Doing this and tha---Hey! Who do you think I am?!”

There was suddenly a loud bang on the wall and a burly man shouted, “GO TO FUCKIN’ SLEEP YOU OBNOXIOUS, SEXUALLY FRUSTRATED LITTLE SHITS!”

You smirked, holding in a laugh saying, “Sounds like your fans are getting jealous.”

Zen’s mouth dropped and you began laughing hysterically

“T-that was like a 60 year old man!”

“I’M 42 YOU LITTLE SHIT”

You fell back on the bed, laughing louder

Zen shouted back, “WELL EXCUSE ME, SEXY, 42 YEAR OLD MAN”

There was silence before a harsh knock sounded at your door

All Zen’s bravado disintegrated and he made a dash for the bed, whispering loudly for you to “Turn off the fuckin’ lights, turn off the fuckin’ lights!”

You stifled more giggles rising up to your throat as you clicked off the light, making sure the room was locked, and climbed into bed

you breathed out your last laughs, sighing to yourself contentedly before noticing the close proximity you were to Zen

You stared at each other for a long moment

You leaned in closer

Zen placed a palm on your cheek, gently cupping it

he softly whispered, “Can I kiss you?”

You answered by harshly connecting your lips

The two of you feeding off each other’s oxygen as Zen bit your lip, causing you to gasp and open your mouth to make way for his tongue

you whimpered, feeling faint from lack of oxygen

the two of you parted, out of breath

Zen wanted to say something smooth like “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

but instead he said “I’ve always wanted to do you.”

He mentally smacked his head, blaming the lack of oxygen for his stupidity

But you smirked up at him coyly, replying, “Then why don’t you?”

Um yeah rip your hotel neighbor he will literally hate both of you so much

I had honestly SO MUCH FUN writing this!! Let me know if you want, like, a part two to this. I think I’d just be so fun lol

1K notes · View notes

hardlyinteresting · 3 years

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Risks Worth Taking 2/2

This is the second half, part 2/2 of the story, thank you to everyone who has read it! Professor!Zemo x Student reader Part 1 here The reader takes Zemo’s philosophy class focusing on Machiavelli. Posted in 2 parts because it exceeded the textbox limit. Apx 3k words.

Warnings: student-teacher relationship (the reader is of age, no real focus on power imbalance), implied age gap, consumption of alcohol, implication that the reader is sleeping with Zemo for better grades (she's not) and of course let me know if you want me to add anything else!!

Week five, he is not shocked to find she’s once again the first one in class. “Good evening,” he greets warmly, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck as he makes his way to his desk. She smiles back, “I left my paper on your desk there, I figured I’d get the pile started”. He laughs setting down his coat and bag, “Something tells me there will be few submissions for this class”.

He’s right. Less than half the class bothers to show up. Most of her peers seem to be getting a head start on winter break, at least the class is quiet she thinks content listening to Helmut summarize the most recently assigned chapters, providing historical context where needed.

“Enjoy your break Helmut,” she says softly as he shuts the lecture hall door.

“You as well. Do you have plans?” She shakes her head, “No, just reading”. He smiles, “Then I am sure it will be a good break indeed”.

The cafe is warm and cosy. She settles comfortably into her favourite booth with her favourite book and a second cup of tea.

The bell at the front door dings as a man enters in a long black coat and leather gloves. Fancy she thinks to herself as he approaches the counter to order. It's usually other students dressed in sweatpants and hoodies, the man’s put together dress piques her interest. He orders and then she watches over the top of her book as he drops a $10 bill into the barista’s tip jar. Oh, well dressed and exceedingly well mannered. She can't help but watch him as he waits. Removing his gloves he tucks them into his pockets and unbuttons his coat, she swears she can smell his cologne from where she sits; it's incredible!

“Cherry blossom tea for Helmut?” The barista calls sliding the cup across the counter.

Helmut? It isn't. Is it? He turns after saying a polite thank you, and she can feel her heart hammering as he turns and she sees his face. It is. She's not sure why she's shocked, she did tell him about this place after all. Do I say something? She wonders, weighing the pros and cons, but her thoughts are halted when she hears his voice,

“Hello,” he smiles softly, “I didn't expect you to be here--I know you pointed this place out, but I wasn't--”

He's worried he's intruding. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“No, no. It's okay! I don't own the place-- did you want to sit? You don't have to--”

He chuckles as her nerves get the best of her.

Silently he sets down his cup shrugging out of his coat, putting it over the back of the chair before sitting down.

“What are you reading?” He smiles, trying to peak at the cover.

Again, after their initial stiffness, the conversation flows smoothly, just like it had in his office. After several warm drinks, and a couple croissants ordered between the two of them it’s grown dark outside. Neither had noticed the cafe empty out slowly over the hours, the barista cleaning up for the night until she clears her throat from behind the counter. They both turn to look at her, finally noticing how quiet the shop is.

“Sorry, we’re closing now,” the barista smiles sweetly. “Not a problem. I apologise, we lost track of time. We’ll get out of your way,” Helmut apologizes. The pair collect their things sliding back into their coats and gloves. Helmut waits patiently for her to be ready to go his hand resting gently at the small of her back as she slips out of the booth and past him.

Helmut stops and puts another bill in the girl’s tip jar.

“Sorry for keeping you,” he apologises again.

Outside the winter wind is cold against their faces.

“Are you hungry?” Helmut asks.

“I could eat,” She responds. “Ever been there?” Helmut asks pointing to the pub across the street. “I don’t know if it’s your speed. It’s not super nice or anything, but their food is decent,” she says honestly. He laughs, “‘Decent’ is better than what I can make at home by myself”.

She bites her lip thinking about it, does he want to spend more time with me?

“Okay,” she smiles as they make their way across the street.

Settled at a table, they wait for their server, she asks, “Was that a fifty dollar bill I saw you put in that tip jar?”

He shrugs, “Yes”.

He says that as if it’s normal, she thinks.

“I know you’re not from here, but you do know that’s a lot of money right?” “Yes,” he shrugs again, “But she made excellent tea all afternoon, she let us stay as late as she could and she was polite. And I have been here long enough to know that servers of any kind don’t get paid fairly. I can afford it, she deserves it”.

She feels the smile grow across her face, she considers gushing that he’s such a good person, but instead what comes out is, “I’m really starting to consider becoming a professor”.

He laughs, “I told you, it’s family money, not my facility pay”. God, that laugh, sets off butterflies in her stomach, the warm, genuine sound of his laughter.

He continues, “Before Sokovia fell, my family were royalty. I was a Baron there”. “I knew your name sounded familiar,” she sighs, “I remember hearing about Sokovia on the news. I remember your name, you were building orphanages and relief centres”.

He nods sadly, “Many of us thought we could salvage what we had left after everything. We couldn’t”.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, without thinking she reaches across the table to place a comforting hand on his arm. His hand comes to cover hers, so much larger than her own.

There’s a silence between them for one of the first moment since he sat down with her earlier at the cafe. But it’s not uncomfortable, it’s the opposite -- a silence of understanding, both parties knowing there’s nothing they can say to make things better-- they can only ruminate.

The peace is broken by a waiter coming to take their orders. “Do you drink Helmut?” She asks with a mischievous smile. “I have been known to indulge,” he confesses, his eyebrows furrowed. “Two shots of ?” she turns to look at Helmut expectantly. “Vodka,” he replies. “Two shots of vodka, and an order of cheese fries to share please,” she orders, “thank you”.

The waiter returns not before long, placing the drinks and food on the table.

She holds her shot glass up waiting for him to do the same. “Prost,” he says raising his glass towards her. “Cheers,” she responds clinking her glass into his before they both tip them back.

And that’s how their night begins.

It’s nearing midnight when they settle their bill, Helmut insisting he pay-- though she put up a good fight. “Can I walk you home?” He asks looking at her under the light of the street lamps. She nods, her face feeling warm both from his attention and the alcohol coursing through her bloodstream. Her apartment is only three blocks away, but time seems to slow down as they walk arm in arm through the freshly fallen snow. At her door they stop, she looks up at him, him down at her. Without a thought, lips meet. It’s not rough or particularly sexy, but she feels her knees go weak when his hand comes to cup her cheek, his other splayed across the small of her back pulling her closer. This kiss deepens and she clutches the lapel of his wool coat before they both pull away. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Don’t be,” she sighs.

Then the thought hits her, “How are you getting home?” “Oh-- I was going to get a cab and go back to the cafe to pick up my car in the morning,” he explains. “Nonsense-- you can stay here,” she offers unlocking her door and stepping inside, he doesn’t follow. “Not in my bed,” she laughs flicking on the light, “I’ll set you up on the couch”. He steps inside.

In the morning he wakes to the sun shining through the window. It takes him a minute to orient himself remembering he crashed on her couch. He sits up taking a moment to look around the apartment, it’s cute. Books and textbooks and notebooks strewn about the place. It’s homey and inviting and every bit what he’d expect her space to look like. Carefully he grabs one of the open notebooks tearing out a page he writes a quick note:

Good morning, I find that I feel very sorry for having to leave before you wake. Alas, I have much to get done, and I do not wish to trespass in your home longer than needed. I am grateful for your hospitality, and even more, your company. If my memory serves correctly I must also apologise for making that advance towards you last night. It was ungentlemanly, and you are unquestionably deserving of much better. I hope you can forgive me, and that you might allow me to make it up to you. -Helmut

Week six.

“He should appear to be compassionate, faithful to his word, guileless, and devout.” Is written across the board. When she settles into her seat. She’s not early this week, rather just on time. Helmut notes the heavy rise and fall of her chest as she tries to catch her breath, he holds back a smile at the thought of her sprinting to his class. When the class is settled, he proceeds to hand back all of the submitted essays, now marked. He smiles as he sets hers on her desk, “Bravo,” he says quietly enough that just she hears it as he shuffles along to the next row of students. She anxiously flips to the last page, red pen scrawl reads 100%. Her jaw drops. There’s no way. She thinks back to the rumours she heard on campus at the beginning of the year, about how difficult a marker he is. Bullshit. Her blood boils, rage sizzling beneath her skin. She avoids his eyes for the rest of class staring down at her notebook as she notices the indents in the blank page-- indents left from where he had written her a note that morning. Her anger freezes replaced by the cold sinking feeling in her chest. All his kind words, all those moments shared-- did he really think she was just spending time with him for a better grade? What kind of handout does he expect to get from her? She scolds herself now for the little crush she’d developed-- how stupid could she be? The prince must appear to be virtuous in order to hide his actions, She remembers from her reading, a dagger to her chest as she thinks bitterly that she’s not shocked that the professor is practising what he preaches.

The class ends and he moves to collect his paperwork, sorting it back into his bag. She stays. “I’m glad you stayed behind,” he starts. “I’m sure you are,” she says sharply. Confused he puts his things down turning to face her. “Have I done something to upset you?” He asks seriously his head tilted to the side as he racks his brain for anything he may have done to make her so cross. Perhaps his note was not sufficient in conveying his apology? “Do you think I’m stupid? Or that I’m naive?” she asks arms crossed, “I’m not sleeping with you for a good grade,” she states firmly, sliding her essay back across her desk, “feel free to adjust my grade accordingly”. Is that what she thinks? His mouth goes dry, his mind and heart racing with all the different ways he wants to apologise, to tell her that she has it wrong. He approaches her, finally making eye contact with her, “Your grade will stay as it is. I mark all of my student’s work without looking at the cover pages. I have always strived to remain impartial. Your essay was marked no differently,” He explains calmly, “I would be wrong to say that I don’t hold any affections for you-- it is quite the opposite. I enjoy the time we have spent together, and I would like to continue to remain in your company; I hope to eventually find myself in your affections-- but none of this has any bearing on your grade. I am sorry that I have acted in a way where this was not clear”. Her throat clenches, oh. “I’m sorry--Oh my god--I’m so stupid!” her hand flies to cover her mouth. “You have nothing to apologise for-- I should be the one apologising,” he insists. She shakes her head standing to stand in front of him, “We’ve both been obtuse”. “I’d like to make it up to you. I’d like to take you out for dinner-- a proper meal. If you’ll allow me”. She nods her hand coming to rest on his cheek, thumb running gently across his cheekbone, “I would like that,” she says quietly, her eyes glazing at his lips, “But only after the semester is done and I’ve graduated”. “If that is what you want,” he nods understanding. She can feel him leaning in, her eyes flickering up to his caramel eyes and back down to his lips, his hand rests on her hip, but he waits for her to close the gap between them.

Last day of the school year.

She waits by the door to the lecture hall as he speaks to his class. She listens to the back and forth of conversing ideas from the students, her heart beating faster every time Helmut speaks. It takes a while for everyone to leave when the class is over, but he does his best not to make her wait too long, gathering his things as quickly as possible, he makes his way over to her.

“Maybe I should’ve taken this course, the conversation was much more lively!” She laughs. “Your intelligent thoughts would have been wasted here, my dear” He smiles shutting the door behind him, “your class needed a brilliant mind in it”.

The summer goes by quickly. Fine dining, nights in. reading during rainstorms. Nights of soft romance, followed by nights of passion. Pasts shared. Futures envisioned. In his bed the night before the new school year she rolls over to lay almost on top of him, laughing when he lets out an oof. “Old man she teases,” earning a playful pinch on the thigh from him.

She glances at his nightstand, a copy of The Prince laying there.

“And what are your personal feelings about Machiavelli anyway? You never speak about your own thoughts”

“You're so clever,” he laughs, “but you're right”.

He sighs pulling her closer. he tries to focus on his hand running up and down her arm, how soft her sweater is under his fingertips. He takes a deep breath before speaking, “every time I read it, my opinions change,” he confesses, “there was a time when I was young and stupid; thought I was invincible that I agreed with a lot of his ideals. Then I grew older, fell in love--I thought him stupid and lonely. I experienced an incredible loss--”

She squeezes his side as she hears his voice grow tense with tears, he swallows and continues, “and then I thought I understood him. I learned how to grieve and I thought him intolerable. In the end I learn more about myself than I do him”.

She smiles, “and have you read it lately?”

He nods kissing her softly, “I have”.

“And?”

“I learned to trust my instincts. To take the risks that are worth taking”

“You're kind of a sap,” she laughs, her face getting warm she buries it in his chest. Part 1 here

#zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #professor!zemo #daniel bruhl x reader #zemo #daniel bruhl #baron zemo x reader

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thatoneitaliangirl · 3 years

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Umm hellooo 👉👈 may I request Venti’s fem s/o asking to have a baby with her? After they’re married and stuff ofc ehchvhgggvb

Hi! Sorry this took me so long, I'm taking a summer class this semester and life is crazy and ahhhhhhh!

Anyway, here is your story! It's not very long, but I hope you find it entertaining! I didn't mention if they were married or not, but you can assume they are if you want to. I left it open to interpretation.

Thank you so much for requesting this from me and I hope you have a wonderful day!

Venti x Reader

About- Venti want's to talk to reader about having a baby.

Warnings- Mentions of superficial wounds from a commission, implied sexy times at the end.

Word count- 1,074

Something has been on Venti's mind for a while now.

Being immortal, he's never truly thought about having kids. Sure, he's seen them around Mondstadt and plays with them like the kid at heart he is, but one of his own? He's not even sure if it's possible!

But, then he met you.

He didn't even know who you were, you just showed up in Mondstadt one day looking for commissions. But there was something about you he couldn't quite place that made you feel special to him for some reason. He tried asking you, but you avoided him like the plague. It wasn't until you decided to help out the traveler with a commission that he finally had the opportunity to talk to you.

He and the traveler are tight, so they didn't mind him tagging along. You, on the other hand, did NOT seem pleased. Every little comment he made, every stride he took, every time he laughed, you looked physically in pain. Like his mere presence was just too much for you to handle. And when you fought, you just looked so familiar . . .

He finally got the courage to corner you after the fight and ask you and was extremely shocked at the news. Apparently, during the Archon war, you two had fought. It was a misunderstanding; you, a small god new to the world and scared, were just trying to defend your territory. And Barbatos being merciful, let you escape. He honestly didn't think you'd make it, being as weak as you were. But somehow you were able to survive and live in hiding for many years.

A god without people or land, wandering aimlessly for hundreds of years with no sense of belonging.

You had avoided Mondstadt for so long but finally decided to stay for a bit. After all, their god had been gone for a very long time. Boy, were you wrong.

But in the end, you two settled your differences. You're still incredibly weak, hardly would anyone call you a god in this day and age. Despite this, you've done your best to protect the people you've come across, defeating hilichurls and Abyss mages on your travels. Weak or not though, you are still a god.

One with a Gnosis just like his own. So, in good faith and a bit of a guilty conscience, Venti decided to help you. He didn't want the Tsaritsa to find out about you, especially since they don't know what she plans on doing. The best thing for you would be to stay by his side. And so you did.

Neither of you expected to fall in love with each other, but those things just happen.

But, that brings us back to the present and back to our original thought.

Does Venti want kids with you? Yes, yes he does. But do you?

He looks at you from across the room. You just got back from a commission about an hour ago and are dressing your wounds. Venti walks over and hands you fresh water and you thank him. It pains him to see you hurt. You heal faster than a normal human, but nowhere near as fast as him. Sometimes, he sees the Traveler in you, and you in them. Both powerful in your own right, but weak compared to a god.

"I'm sorry." Venti whispers, just audible enough to hear. You look up at him and laugh.

"Venti, how many times do I have to tell you? Stop apologizing! I've survived this long without your help, haven't I?" He smiles back, sitting next to you. Your smile always brings his mood back up.

"Well, if I had been there, you probably wouldn't have gotten as banged up. You sure you don't want my help?" You roll your eyes.

"Positive, Ven." Venti watches as you clean up, noting nothing too severe. A few cuts, a few scrapes, no worse than poor Benny gets daily. He swallows and sighs. Should he ask you? Maybe now's not the time.

"Why are you looking so melancholy, Ven? Cat got your lyre strings?" His eyes widen.

"Please, don't curse me with that!" You laugh, a perfect melody to his ears. Venti bites his lip and decides to give in.

"I have something very important to ask you," He looks up at you, looking into your eyes. Very rarely do you see him this serious.

"You don't have to answer right away- you don't have to answer at all if you don't want to, but . . . It's just . . . I," You look at him, concern filling your eyes and he's entranced.

'Abort mission, ABORT-'

"Maybe I'll ask later-!" He tries to get up, but you grab him by the wrist and pull him down. Elementally you may be weak, but physically? All those years of training and fighting have gained you some muscles! Much more than Venti has, at least. Not that that's saying much.

"Venti, what's the matter? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" He lets out a defeated sigh and shuts his eyes tight.

"Iwannahaveababywithyou!" You blink in surprise.

"I'm sorry, what?" Venti opens his eyes and looks at you.

"I want to-" You nod encouragingly.

"Have a baby with . . . You . . ."

"Oh."

"Oh?" You cough into your hand.

"Well, I hadn't really thought about it. But," You look up at Venti, a nervous but bright smile on your face.

"I love you more than life itself. Having a baby with you, starting our own little family . . . It sounds . . ." You laugh and pull him into a hug.

"It sounds amazing Venti!" Relief floods off of Venti as he tightens the hug, pulling you as close to him as he can. He never thought you would actually say yes! I mean, there are so many reasons you could have said no, but you said yes!

"You're the muse to my music, the melody to my song, and the meaning to the words that I sing. Having a family with you would make me the happiest man in all of Teyvat!" You pull back from the hug seeing tears of joy run down Venti's face.

"You're so corny, Ven!" Venti smirks and wiggles his eyebrows.

"I may be corny, but I'm also something else that rhymes with it!"

"Oh my gods, Venti!"

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact venti #genshin impact venti x reader #venti #venti x reader

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nevertheless-moving · 4 years

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Suicidal Misunderstanding XIV

Part I - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Part XI - - - - Part XII - - - - Part XIII

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Plo Koon woke to find himself chained in a dark room.

Somewhere behind him he could hear steady dripping; it was uncertain if that was deliberate or not.

He strained to discern anything in the dim light, but the walls of his prison refused to form into anything recognizable.

Cautiously, the trapped Master cast his senses out, only to find them reflected back at odd angles. He decided to wait before attempting to push any further past what his captor wished him to see.

Time passed strangely, but sooner than expected there was the sound of a pressurized airlock opening and, distantly, a raging ocean.

The airlock cycled through its rotation and Obi-Wan Kenobi stepped out of the amorphous shadows looking...decidedly worse for the wear.

Plo ached at the sight. His normally carefully maintained beard was a scraggly mess. His robes hung tattered and bloodied. Of particular concern was how dry he looked, skin cracked and bleeding for want of water. The figure standing before him with a dead-eyed glare resembled less an accomplished Jedi Master and more the wretched husk of one.

“Who are you?” Obi-Wan's shade hissed. The chains around the Kel Dooran tightened.

Well, however he might view himself and others...at least he’s willing to fight to defend what remains? At the bare minimum he’s not acting intentionally self destructive...

“Good Morning, Obi-Wan. I am a Jedi Master and your friend. I have been attempting to reach you through your rather impressive shielding. I must say, you’ve done a remarkable job confining me in this mental construct, its been sometime since anyone has managed to get the best of me in this arena.”

Obi-Wan snorted. “Don’t try and flatter me, you barely fought back. You could easily have forced your way anywhere, but for some reason you let me corral you, presumably to try and gain my trust. Now answer my question. Your presence is very much light so I doubt you’re Sidious or...Vader. I could be wrong obviously, but i can’t see either of themselves putting this much effort into that sort of mask...just tell me who you are, and why you’re with them.”

“I am Master Plo Koon, a High Council Member, and I am not unknown to you” he elaborated without hesitation. “I am glad that you can identify that I am a light force user. Can you not sense familiarity within my force presence, even so far within your domain?”

Obi-Wan reared back and the dripping noise in the corner stopped.

“It’s a trick. We might be in my head but that doesn’t mean I’m surrendering any of my thoughts to you,” Obi-Wan snarled. “I felt Plo Koon’s death, he was one of the first...and even if he somehow survived he would never work with the Sith to invade my mind. Never.”

“Obi-Wan. Listen to me. Please. I am not dead. I am not working with the Sith. I was brought in to reach you because no other method was working. You are in the healing halls at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.” Plo spoke calmly, but implacably, “We believe you have either experienced a uniquely detailed vision, or a run in with a dark-sider. Whatever has happened, I can feel the lingering impression of unsafety. But here and now, you are not in any immediate physical danger. There must be something I can do to convince you of your present physical location.”

“A uniquely detailed vision, huh? ha!” Obi-Wan replied, gesturing wildly. “Ha! You expect me to believe that what, the last four years of my life were a detailed prophecy? Why?”

“You...believe you have lived years beyond the rest of us. I take it the- what you remember has been dangerous enough to warrant maintaining abnormally tight control over your mental walls, precluding simply reaching out to ascertain the truth yourself.”

“Clearly my control wasn’t enough if you’re in here.” Obi-Wan muttered.

“I do apologize for the intrusion, but we’ve already used every other tool at our disposal to reach you. I repeat, is there anything that can be done to convince you that you are, from your perspective, ‘in the past’. You are a High Council member with a grandpadawan. It’s been two years since the start of the clone wars. You recently finished an extended clean up of the Mon Cala sector after your victory.”

Obi-Wan stared at him curiously. “If I set a test and you fail, will you agree to dispense with the pretenses?”

Plo-Koon hesitated. “Perhaps I’m making this deal in bad faith, as I am know I am Plo-Koon, and that everything I have said is the truth... but I swear that if you somehow prove that neither of those things are true and I am secretly working for a sith lord, I will...reveal that.”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Best I’m going to get, I suppose.”

The chains holding Plo-Koon loosened. Before he could respond, there was a hurtling rising sensation that he struggled not to fight against. After a disorienting moment, he found himself in his own body, feeling vaguely seasick. Obi-Wan blinked awake, apparently unfazed by the precautionary bonds holding him in place. Master Aerdo’s gaze flicked between them intensely. Plo-Koon held up a clawed hand to forestall any interruption while the two gained their bearings.

Obi-Wan spoke first:

“Cihynglo’s Fourth Meditation”

“...What?” Koon replied, honestly confused.

“Cihynglo was a renowned Kashykian Jedi, her mediations are, well i suppose were considered a quintessential example of High Republic cosmic poetry.”

“I’m familiar with Cihynglo- my master used to speak of her fondly.” Plo Koon said slowly. “Though I can’t say I’m familiar with her Fourth Mediation.”

“Hmm. Yes, well her poetry in the last few decades of her life got increasingly, well, esoteric. While most of her work was widely translated and distributed, she requested that those who wished to read her fourth Meditations do so in person, so as to experience without dilution the full calligraphy and artwork that accompanied her words. She only ever produced two copies. Any guesses where they were kept?”

Obi-Wan’s voice started out in the steady tones of a born lecturer, only to grow bitter towards the end.

“Is one in the temple?” Master Koon asked.

“Yes, one was held in the Master’s wing of the temple archives. The other was housed in a place of honor in The White Forest’s Great Tree of Knowledge. Considering both libraries were reduced to ash in the first month of the Empire, it is quite impossible, even for the Emperor, to find a copy.”

His vague attempt at a smirk quickly fell flat.

“I was privileged enough to be granted time to begin reading it once, but, alas, an emergency situation in the intergalactic war you created meant that I had to run off mid-sonnet. Bring me that book, let me hold it, read it, and I will believe that I somehow unlocked the secret of time-travel while overdosing on Spice.”

Obi-Wan paused, catching his breath. “In the next fifteen minutes, please. Any more than that and you might try tracking down the few surviving Wookie scholars.” Koon flipped open his comm. “Master Nu, I have an urgent request.”

“Nu here, go on,” came the response.

“This may sound strange, but it is crucial that Cihynglo’s Fourth Meditation be brought to the healing halls, room seven. Within the next 15 minutes.”

“You do understand you’re talking about a physical book, not a flimsi-stack or a holocron. It’s not meant to leave a climate-controlled room.”

“I promise you, I would not ask if it weren’t life or death. Please Jocasta, I’ll explain later.”

“I’ll be there in 10. It had better be one durned good explanation.”

Obi-Wan looked bemused. ”You’re setting yourself up for failure.”

“I am glad you were able to come up with a test you found meaningful. Remember, you have friends here, regardless of whether you experienced subjective time travel or an incredibly detailed vision.”

They waited a little longer. Obi-Wan critically examined Master Aerdo.

“I’m a Senior Soul Healer” they offered at the non-verbal prompting.

“How interesting.” Obi-Wan remarked dryly.

They sat in awkward silence for another minute.

They were all equally trained in suppressing fidgets, coughs, or other nervous tics, which made the wait that slightest bit more unbearable, each second nearly imperceptible from the one before.

Eventually the sound of heavy boots moving at speed approached.

Master Nu strode in, gently cradling a great burden. The book gleamed large and vital in the light of its stasis wrap. Her eyes widened at they took in Obi-Wan, still cuffed to the bed.

“Cihynglo’s Fourth Meditation, as asked for. I trust you have an excellent explanation for how a book of poetry is a matter of life or death.”

“I’m hoping that it will convince our friend Master Kenobi that I am who I claim to be and we are where I claim we are.” Koon gently pulled the book from her grasp and reverently placed it on Obi-Wan’s lap. Obi-Wan stared at it uncomprehendingly.

“Obi-Wan, I’m going to uncuff you now. I trust that you will use your freedom to examine our ‘proof.’ We will physically intercede if you make any attempts at self harm.”

Master Nu gasped. “Then the temple rumors...I don’t understand.”

Obi Wan picked up the book as if he was afraid it might bite him. With an irritated snort, he opened brusquely to the middle, and began carelessly flipping ahead.

Master Nu started forward, offended, but Plo Koon held her back. “Please Master Nu, patience-”

Finally Obi-Wan seemed to reach the page he was looking for and stopped. “..And still the rain fell like blood of the womb” he murmured. “That...I tried to think of how the line ended but I...”

Everyone watched as the book shook in Obi-Wan's grasp. He turned the page, gasping slightly and murmuring as he read. “This is...a little gross, but oddly touching. I certainly would not have come up with it myself...but its so clearly...” They watched his react, eyes darting wildly and brow furrowing in confusion.

Several pages later he dropped the book abruptly.

“This is impossible,” he gasped.

Nu darted forward, carefully snatching it from his lap, "I am endeavoring to practice tolerance, but how is destroying an irreplaceable piece of literature supposed to help anyone?!” she snapped

“I admit I wondered that myself, but when I imagined what harm the Sith could do with some of the archive’s more practical works, I understood your decision to torch the collection” Obi-Wan responded dreamily. “I suppose the more beautific works would likely have been destroyed anyway...”

“Torch the archives? I would never.”

“But you did,” Obi-Wan insisted feverishly. “I found your message when we searching for survivors. There were so many bodies piled at the archive door that I was almost hopeful that they had managed to...but I suppose they held out just long enough for you to complete your task.”

Nu backed away slowly. “That sounds like quite the disturbing vision, Master Kenobi.”

“It wasn’t just a vision, it was my life. It-visions don’t last years!” he said, finally growing hysterical. “I remember everything! That gods-awful mission to Cato Nemodia! Getting takeout food with Anakin! The smell of burning flesh in the creche! Singing to Luke! The last year of the war! All of you! You crying after Dooku’s death,” he added gesturing wildly at the archivist. “It was so awkward! You were embarrassed! You told me that for some stupid reason you had ‘held out hope’ it was all an insane uncover mission, that he wasn’t really- Three years alone in the desert! I remember three years of living on fucking Tatooine, how could that possibly be a vision!”

“I...hadn’t told anyone that,” Nu whispered with a hint of alarm. She glanced at Plo Koon, daring him to comment. “I know its very much unlikely at this point, and by any measure, he’s taken things too far, but he’s gone on such long shadow missions in the past...” she looked away.

“Oh, Jocasta...” Plo sighed.

“Master Kenobi. I cannot explain how you came to have such detailed knowledge of the future,” Aerdo said, drawing focus back to the bewildered Obi-Wan, who had shifted into a defensive crouch on the bed. “But I do know one reasonably sure fire way to establish that this, us, is the present. Open yourself up to the force, please, just let yourself listen to what it has to say.

“I...want to, of course I want to believe- but the idea that I’m here- it’s, if you’re real than you can’t possibly understand, its too good to be true.” Obi-Wan responded brokenly.

“I know things have been clouded of late, but, if nothing else trust in the force to not lie to you.” Plo-Koon urged. “If you keep closing yourself off like this, how can you possibly learn if things are better than you think”

Obi-Wan collapsed from his crouch, knees folding underneath.

“If I am...even if I am in the past... Sideous might be watching...i didn’t- i don’t know the extent of his gaze- even if...” he trailed off.

“If it makes you feel safer, you are of course free to again raise your shields to whatever extent you feel necessary once you have verified your reality.” Aerdo replied smoothly.

Obi-Wan looked warily at the three Jedi in the room.“I...” he started, trying to articulate the swelling hope and fear only to find himself at a loss for words.

Aerdo shot him a reassuring smile, “If you don’t feel ready right now, that’s perfectly understandable. We’re very happy you’re willing to reach out as much as you have already. Would you like to pause this discussion for now so we can find you something to eat? I believe a simple broth is a customary first post-bacta meal, but if you have any special requests I’ll do what I can.”

Obi-Wan let out a deep breath, dropping his head into his hands. “I- I need to know, don’t I?” he mumbled. “Force help me...you win.” He took one last, searching look at the faces of his fellow Jedi before closing his eyes and surrendering himself to the force.

He opened a small hole in his mental barricades and tentatively allowed his thoughts to drip out. Tentatively, he trickled over the bank of Plo Koon’s being (expecting a frigid burn) only to find a warm and heartbreakingly familiar pool of tempered kindness.

He ran, slightly faster now, over the other Jedi presences in the room. Having finished his course without encountering any dark undertow, he ebbed back. There was an indistinct impression of something heavy giving way.

Obi-Wan’s Shields Fell Like A Dam Beneath a Tidal Wave -

#star wars #my au #suicidal misunderstanding au #star wars au no 27 #time travel #starwars #star wars fanfiction #obi-wan kenobi #fix-it

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gubler-me-up · 4 years

Text

Not a Day Too Soon

Request: Spencer Reid on his wedding day hands the reader a receipt whilst at the altar instead of starting his vows and asks them to read the date and it turns out it’s like one month after their first date and then he asks the reader to read what the receipt is for and it was for their engagement ring and he’s just “that’s how long I’ve been sure. That’s how long I’ve wanted this to happen” and they’re both just crying sappy dorks getting married

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! Hope this is what you dreamed of when you submitted this request to me. I hope I met all your expectations for sappy fluff! From your request, I decided to make the reader gender-neutral if that’s okay with you!! There wasn’t a specific gender specified and I wasn’t sure if it was done intentionally or not, but I hope you still love it! (Also, to anyone reading, I put a father walking the reader down the aisle, but you totally can substitute someone else in placement of a father)

Couple: Spencer Reid/Gender-Neutral!reader

Category: Wedding fluff

Content warning: None whatsoever

Word count: 2.4k

Notes: Y/F/F=Your favourite flower Y/B/F=Your best friend Y/M/N=Your middle name Y/L/N=Your last name

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Today was the beginning of the rest of your life with Spencer. For the last two years it had already felt as if you two had known each other centuries before. Every moment with him was undeniably time well spent. Every moment felt as if you had lived it and were reliving the best parts in an endless wheel of dreams. Marrying Spencer Reid was probably the peak of your forever happiness.

You stood in front of the mirror in your dressing room to look over everything. Your makeup had been flawlessly done and so was your hair. You were so nervous your eyeliner would smudge or your foundation wouldn’t match somehow. You had to admit it looked absolutely flawless. Your makeup artist was definitely worth every penny.

You admired your wedding attire one last time. The BAU girls and some of your friends had accompanied you to pick your perfect wedding attire. It took several hours but you were satisfied with your choice. You don’t remember the last time you ever felt so beautiful. Today was destined to be the best day of your life.

“Y/N, you ready?” You heard your dad ask from behind you.

You turned around and smiled. “Of course.”

You walked over to him and linked your arm with his. He handed you your bouquet of Y/F/F. He guided you out of the dressing room and out into the long hallway leading outside. He couldn’t stop telling you how beautiful you looked and how happy he was for you. You had to stop yourself from letting your tears fall from your eyes. You couldn’t bear messing up your mascara before meeting Spencer at the alter. You knew you would be shedding plenty of tears throughout the day, but you wanted to at least make it down the aisle tear-free.

You two made it out into the courtyard venue and the beautiful clear skies greeted you. The sun warmed your cheeks as a smile spread across your face. Spencer was standing at the altar in his black tuxedo with a cute black bowtie and from what you could see he was still wearing his famous mismatched socks. You couldn’t ask to marry anyone better ever in your life.

Everyone looked at you as you walked down the aisle. You could hear breathy ‘oh wow’s’ and ‘they looks gorgeous’ from the crowd of family and friends. Your eyes were still set on Spencer though. He covered his mouth in amazement as he watched you walk towards him. His joy couldn’t be held any longer as you saw a few tears escape his eyes. He removed his hand from his mouth to wipe them away. His covered smile was now beaming as he continued watching you in all your beauty. Derek, who was his best man, had to rub his back to give him some composure again.

As you reached the altar, you looked at your dad and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He held your hands tight in his, squeezing them tight before letting go. You knew he was about to shed tears of his own by how red his eyes were.

“I love you, Y/N. I’m so happy for you,” he said.

“I love you too,” you said.

He went to go take his seat as you went to your designated spot across from Spencer. Y/B/F grabbed your bouquet from your hands. Spencer reached out for your hands and you didn’t hesitate to place yours in his. You held his hands tight in yours, happy he was here with you. He looked even more handsome up close. His smile was so joyous you couldn’t help to reflect it back.

Rossi soon walked in to meet both of you in the middle of the altar to begin the ceremony. You and Spencer hadn’t gotten a real pastor since neither of you were that big on religion and decided to just have a wedding officiant instead and to your surprise Rossi was a certified one. You saved yourselves a couple of bucks in exchange for a few sarcastic remarks and tasteful humour.

“Well, if I’m thinking what everyone else is thinking than my answer is yes, it is about time someone other than myself to get married,” he began and got a ton of laughs in response.

He looked at the both of you, who were laughing, but both of you were laughing while looking deeply into each other’s eyes as if you were in your own world. He even noticed that you two were whispering “I love you” to each other already and you were slowly, but surely tearing up.

“They’re already saying “I love you” to each other. Hello, kids, this is a wedding ceremony, not a date. Save the I love you’s for either the Honeymoon or the bedroom,” Rossi joked.

Everyone laughed, even you and Spencer, as you two finally got over yourselves. You took the time to wipe an escaped tear from your eye and regained yourself by taking a deep breath. Rossi cleared his throat to get everyone settled, so he could proceed with the ceremony quicker since he believed that you and Spencer would rather spend your wedding privately at that point.

“But being serious now, we’re gathered here to join these two dorks in holy matrimony. I’m glad that we could all be here today to join Spencer Walter Reid and Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N as one big Doctorate degree,” he joked again.

Both you and Spencer looked at each other with approval. You two had spent your money wisely when you decided to spare the pastor and hire Rossi instead. He brought something so tedious to life.

“Proceeding, in the presence of family, friends and loved ones, I’m going to go ahead and initiate this whole thing. Ever since these two were born, they’ve been meant for each other, but it took fate to match them up at the right time. We’re also here to celebrate the good in life that has come from the bad and trust me, they make bad look like a schoolyard bully. I’m honoured to bind these two souls together and I’m overjoyed to not be the one saying the vows because I forgot them, so please, Spencer, let your lovely partner know how you feel.”

Spencer smiled and took a deep breath as he let go of your hands to reach into his pocket. He pulled out a piece of folded paper. He let out a soft chuckle as he looked up from the paper to you. You stared at him, eagerly awaiting him to say his vows. You were kind of surprised he had to write down his vows. Maybe an eidetic memory was good to a fault. To your surprise though, he handed you the paper.

“Y/N, read the date on the receipt,” he said.

You looked at him confused, but followed his instructions. This was definitely an unexpected move on Spencer’s part, but then again he was always full of surprises. You opened up the receipt and looked at the top for the date.

“June 3rd,” you said.

“You know what day it was a month prior to that date?” He asked.

You giggled as you remembered. “How could I forget? It was our first date.”

He smiled. “Exactly. Can you read what the receipt was for?”

You looked back down at the receipt. You went to the items listed and only saw one. As soon as you read it, you felt tears form in your eyes again. You looked up at him and as soon as he saw the look on your face, he knew you saw what he bought. You could also see tears starting to form in his eyes again.

“An…an engagement ring,” you said as you tried your best to hold back your tears.

“Yes, an engagement ring. That’s how long I’ve been sure we were meant to be. That’s how long I’ve wanted this moment to happen. I bought the engagement ring a month after our first date with the intention of marrying you one day. All that I have, all that I am, all that I’ll ever be is yours forever. From the very moment I saw you, I knew you were the one for me, the one that I knew I had to spend the rest of my life with. Our courtship was one of the best days of my life, for you have become not just my lover and companion, but also my best friend. I want to be your lover, your companion and your best friend for the rest of my life. I promise to love and cherish you, to keep you close and with faithfulness, to be your prop and helpmate in times of need, to make you laugh and to hold you when you cry, to hold you to the highest respect and honor as you so deserve for the rest of my life,” he said as a few tears escaped his eyes.

As he said every word, you felt it sting the depths of your heart as no other words have done before. The love that rolled off his tongue, every word he said overwhelmed you with content. You looked lovingly in his eyes as he looked back at you with a warm smile that you could never get enough of. It made you thrilled to think that you would be seeing that face for the rest of your life and you had no regrets about that decision.

Knowing a month from the first day you two met was the day he decided he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life was the best feeling your heart ever felt. You were overjoyed Spencer had felt as deeply for you as you did him from the start. The love he gave you would never grow old to you not even after death. His love would probably still warm you from the grave through its endless warmth.

“Y/N,” Rossi said. “Go ahead.”

You took a deep, jagged breath. “I have dreamed my whole life of having someone as…as wonderful as you to love me the way you do. I give myself to you and I…I gladly promise here to treasure for all of my days the love we celebrate today. Let us bring together our lives and find ourselves anew each day…Sorry.”

A few tears started to stream down your face. Spencer took his right hand and wiped away your tears, gently enough, so he didn’t mess up the hours of perfecting your makeup for the occasion. He gently whispered to you to take your time because he knew how much this meant to you and how overwhelmed you were. You smiled at his touch, as you seemed to breathe a bit easier from his reassurance. You took another breath before continuing.

“You are a precious gift to me, my springtime, my hope and my joy. You are everything that's good and pure and true and I worship you with my mind, body and soul. How lucky I am to be able to say that you are mine, to be able to love and cherish you for the rest of my days. I vow to always put you first in my life, always be there to comfort you in your sorrow and rejoice with you in your victories. May our hearts and very breath become one as we unite this day as partners in life. I promise to be your true love from this day forward and forevermore.”

He beamed a big grin at you as a few more tears left his eyes. It was your turn to use your hand as tissue and wiped away his tears. Tears were still flowing down your own eyes as you found it hard to hold back your happiness. From ear shot you could hear some people in the audience crying from joy and letting out sweet awe’s as they watched the two of you being in deep love with one another.

“I don’t think I could have said that better and I’ve been married three times. Before these two crying dorks become dehydrated from water loss, let’s get to the ring exchange. Henry, the rings, please,” Rossi said.

Henry, who was standing by Spencer’s side, lifted up the pillow to give the two white gold rings to you both. You and Spencer took each other’s ring, waiting for the instructions from Rossi to initiate the ring exchange.

“Spencer, as you put the ring on Y/N’s finger, repeat after me: I, Spencer Reid, take you, Y/N Y/L/N, to be my partner.”

“I, Spencer Reid, take you, Y/N Y/L/N, to be my partner. I promise you love, honour and respect, to be faithful to you and forsaking all others, until death do us part,” Spencer finished as he eagerly slipped your wedding ring on your finger.

“Or not. Y/N, your vow,” Rossi said.

“I, Y/N Y/L/N, take you, Spencer Reid, to be my partner. I promise you love, honour and respect, to be faithful to you and forsaking all others, until death do us part,” you said as you slipped his ring on his ring finger.

“I don’t think I really have to ask this since you basically said it, but Spencer, do you take Y/N as your lawfully wedded partner till death do you part?” Rossi asked.

“I do,” he responded.

“Y/N, do you take Spencer as your lawfully wedded partner?” he asked.

“I do,” you said.

“Well, I know you two have been waiting for this exact moment since June 3rd, so you may now kiss.”

He didn’t even have to tell either of you that as you two immediately locked lips as he finished his sentence and enjoyed your first kiss as lifelong partners. You had to admit, it felt pretty good, maybe even better than any other kiss you two had.

Everyone stood up as they cheered for you both, some crying at the sight of two souls becoming one. As you parted lips, both of you looked deep into each other’s eyes and smiled brightly at each other. You had only been married for a minute and already started to mimic each other. The pianist started to play a tune for you two to walk out with. Spencer immediately grabbed your hand as you grasped his with great strength as he led the way down the aisle as your guests watched and cheered for your happiness and future lives together.

—–

MASTERLIST

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #dr.spencer reid #Matthew Gray Gubler #mgg #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x gender neutral reader #spencer reid x gn!reader

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twdeadfanfic · 3 years

Text

St. Patrick’s night III

Murphy MacManus x Reader

Summary: You’re left alone on St. Patrick’s night, the people you were supposed to hang out with seemingly having forgotten you, but what seemed to be an awful night turns into something completely different when you meet the MacManus twins.

Another chapter for this thing that was supposed to be a one-shot but got out of hand...

The next day at work, you were once again distracted thinking about the MacManus twins. You wondered if they meant it when they’d said they’d pick you up from work that day, you were a bit worried that they wouldn’t, but you couldn’t see them lying like that…maybe they’d forget, though, or something else would come up… You knew it was better not to overthink it, though, and you tried to focus on doing your job.

It wasn’t easy, though, as you kept wondering about Murphy, and how he hadn’t said anything about having kissed you, and he hadn’t kissed you again either… You knew it was probably because he’d kissed you only because it was St. Patrick, but, what if he thought you didn’t want to kiss him? That you weren’t interested? Maybe you should have said something when he’d kissed you? You wouldn’t mind kissing him again…

You wouldn’t mind taking time to get to know each other either, see if you both wanted to go on dates or something…your cheeks heated up at the idea, feeling nervous already and it was just an idea in your head…and Murphy might not even be interested. He hadn’t said anything about it after all. Maybe you should try to gather the courage to actually ask him yourself…it sounded intimidating, though…

Focusing on your job was proving to be hard, even if you tried your best, and you couldn’t stop counting the hours until you were done, barely managing to eat your lunch. Once the clock marked five, you and your coworkers began to clean up your desks and put everything into place before gathering your own stuff and leaving.

You walked in front of a group of your coworkers, who were talking and laughing together, ignoring you, but you didn’t care anymore, you were better off without them. As you walked outside, you saw the MacManus waiting for you, and you couldn’t help your smile. Yes, you were much better with the twins as your friends than trying to socialize with the assholes you worked with. The brothers smiled too when they saw you, approaching you to greet you.

“Hi, lass.”

“Hi, you came.” You didn’t mean to sound like you had thought they might stand you up, but you did sound a bit surprised.

“Of course, love, we told ye,” Murphy said, frowning.

“Yeah, yer a woman of little faith, lass,” Connor teased you, but he frowned when he saw your coworkers walking out of the building too, stopping at the door to chat and say goodbye to each other without even giving you a glance. “Don’t blame ye, considerin’ the kind of pricks yer surrounded with,” Connor said, didn’t seem to mind if your coworkers hear him or not…you were a bit afraid of their reaction if they did…but no, Connor was right, they were pricks.

Murphy was looking at your coworkers too, but he wasn’t frowning like Connor, instead, he smirked as his eyes filled with mischief, and you barely had time to wonder what he was up to before he’d stepped even closer to you, reaching to cup your face, and then he was kissing you.

It wasn’t as tentative and soft as the St.Patrick’s kiss, neither as brief, and you felt your brain sort of melt as butterflies seemed to flutter in your belly. Your hands found their way to Murphy’s shoulders almost by their own accord, but he didn’t seem to mind, as he placed a hand on your waist while the other kept cupping your cheek, even when he pulled back.

You could only blink at him in silence, your brain still feeling a bit numb in the best way, and Murphy smirked at you.

“Better than the St.Patrick’s kiss, love?” He asked, loud enough for your coworkers, who had gone silent, to hear. You nodded, still wordless, and Murphy’s smile went bigger.

“So…should I kiss the lass too or…” Connor said, and it was obvious that he was joking, but Murphy frowned nonetheless, scoffing as he shoved his brother, who chuckled.

“Come on, love, let’s go.” Murphy smiled at you, offering you his arm, and you felt a bit shy but hooked your arm with him, smiling bashfully when Murphy smiled at you. Connor smirked and walked to your other side, hooking his arm with yours too, and Murphy rolled his eyes. “Will ye quit?!” He complained, trying to hit his brother, and so you ducked your head.

“Hey, not fighting while I’m in the middle…” You joked, chuckling.

“Sorry, lass,” both twins apologized as you three began walking, Connor letting go of your arm.

“So…do you have plans?” You asked as you walked.

“What if we get somethin’ to eat and go to our place before goin’ to doc’s?” Connor suggested.

“We live right in front of the pub,” Murphy explained.

“Well, that’s convenient,” you chuckled. “Okay, sounds good.”

The Irish neighborhood wasn’t close to your work, but you went walking anyway. You didn’t mind, and neither did the twins, who kept arguing about what to get for dinner. Murphy wanted pizza and Connor Chinese, and both twins were trying to win you to their side, but you didn’t mind, you liked both.

“Come on, ye have to pick one,” Murphy told you. “And sure ye know pizza is better, aye?” You didn’t know how Murphy could look like trouble one second, then the next he could give such convincing puppy eyes, but you were about to cave and pick pizza even if ye were leaning more to Chinese.

“We literally had pizza yesterday,” Connor complained, rolling his eyes at his twin before looking at you. “Seriously, lass, we’d only eat pizza if it were up to him.”

“Ye weren’t complainin’ that much when ye ate a whole pizza by yerself…” Murphy grumbled.

They both looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to choose, and you tried not to give in to Murphy’s puppy eyes. “Well, if you had pizza yesterday, then I’d say it’s fair that we have Chinese today.”

“Aye!” Connor nodded, looking at his brother with a smug grin, and Murphy scoffed.

“Can’t believe ye betrayed me like this, love,” he pouted, but then he was smirking, and so you knew he didn’t mean it.

“We can have pizza any other day,” you offered, smiling.

“Aye? Ye wanna eat with us another day?” Murphy asked, grinning in that way that lighted his face in such a pretty way that gave you all the butterflies.

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded, looking down shyly. “If you wanna.”

“Sure we do, love,” Murphy said with that pretty grin and Connor nodded, smiling.

“Okay..okay, great.” You smiled bashfully, glad that it seemed they did want to eat with you any other day and hang out with you.

The brothers hadn’t been kidding, they did live in front of the pub, in an old building that didn’t seem quite fitting for housing… You didn’t know how you expected their place to be, but certainly not what you saw when you walked in, and you blinked as you looked around.

It was…it was illegal lofting, that for starters, you were sure of it, and the distribution was…peculiar, so to speak, especially for people not living alone, considering that there were no rooms. Not even a bathroom, there was no wall or anything at all hiding the toilet, neither the row of showers against the wall. You get that the MacManus were twins and all that but…they really did not seem to care for privacy. You really hoped that you didn’t have to pee while you were there, because you weren’t about to do it in front of them.

The place was small, and there wasn’t much there. On one side, there was a couple of mattresses on the floor, separated by a nightstand table in which you saw a couple of mugs and bottles of beer, a small table with some more empty bottles of beer and empty packages of pizza, and a couple of ashtrays full of smoked cigarettes, and some mismatched chairs around it. Against the wall, there was a tattered sofa that seemed about to die, a small tv on top of an even smaller table, and for some reason, the fridge was between the sofa and the tv, with a lamp on top of it…peculiar, but the whole place was…peculiar.

On the other side, there was a small, old stove, an older sink, and a small worktop which surface was almost covered by bottles of booze, some still full but most empty. If you had any doubt that the boys liked to drink, it was gone by now.

You didn’t want to seem rude or shallow, or judging, or anything like that, and so you stopped looking around like that. The brothers hadn’t seemed to notice, though, or to care, they walked in and took off their rosaries, hanging them on a couple of nails on the wall next to the door, and then Connor left the Chinese takeaway on the table.

“Ye hungry, love?” Murphy asked you and you nodded, since you had barely been able to eat your lunch as you wondered if the MacManus might forget that they had made plans with you, which now sounded silly, you shouldn’t have doubted them.

“Let’s eat,” Connor said as he began to take the food containers out of the bag, the smell making your mouth water already.

You stepped closer to the table to help him with it, and your eyes landed on an open notebook under a beer bottle, spotting some drawings and doodles on it, though before you could get a closer look, Murphy snapped it, almost making the bottle fall, and he closed the notebook and threw it to one of the mattresses.

You frowned, confused, but Connor snorted. “Murph likes to get all artistic sometimes,” he said, prompting Murphy into hitting his twin’s head as he snapped at him to shut up.

“You draw those?” You asked, looking towards the notebook on the bed before looking at Murphy, who to your surprised, seemed almost shy. For how cocky and smug he seemed to look more often than not, it was strange to see him looking almost embarrassed, and you didn’t like it. You hated that you had made him feel like that.

“Yeah, he drew our tattoos in that notebook of him,” Connor said, nodding.

“Told ye to shut up,” Murphy snapped again and this time Connor was quick to stop his hands before he could hit him.

“I think that’s really nice!” You rushed to say, and you meant it, you were impressed. “Seriously, it’s great!”

“Aye?” Murphy looked at you like he thought you didn’t mean it, or even like you were trying to make fun of him, and so you nodded eagerly, smiling. He still seemed a bit embarrassed, but he smiled at you. “Connor draws too, he tattoed all mine,” Murphy said, gesturing to his neck, and before you could say how impressive that was, Connor spoke.

“You did all mine better.” Connor shrugged, reaching to grab Murphy’s arm and frowning at the tattoed cross. “Parts of this look wonky.”

“I think it looks great!” You said, impressed. “Both his and your tattoos, it’s so impressive, seriously!”

“Aye?” Murphy asked you, his smile bigger now.

“Yes!” You nodded. “Seriously, you not only draw your tattoos but you tattoo them too?! It’s amazing! If I ever want a tattoo, I know who to ask!”

“Ye’d ask me?” Murphy asked with a smile that made you feel all funny and smile too, and you nodded.

“Sure, why not?” You shrugged, and Murphy gave you that pretty, bright smile, that made you consider if he might mind it if you kissed him again…

You barely noticed Connor as he began fumbling with the food containers again, focused as you were on Murphy and that damn smile, but when you finally looked at Connor, you noticed that he seemed amused at Murphy and you. You felt your cheeks heating up a bit, and you tried to kick your brain into working again, helping with the food.

You three decided to settle on the sofa for dinner instead of at the table, since Connor suggested that you could watch a movie, even if you weren’t sure that old thing would hold you three without falling into pieces, and so they dragged the tv in front of the sofa. Connor had a small stack of what seemed old action movies, and once again you had the final vote on what to watch, since the twins kept arguing about it, Murphy complaining that they’d seen the movie that Connor’d picked a million times already while Connor retorted that it was classic worth watching another million times.

You didn’t give it much thought, you didn’t care much and you didn’t want the food to go cold while the boys argued. Since you had sided with Connor on what to eat, this time you voted for Murphy’s choice of movie. He smiled smugly at his twin, but Connor didn’t complain much, since he liked that one too.

It was so much fun, to eat and watch the movie while the twins kept commenting on it, usually Connor saying details that you hadn’t cared to notice before, things that he liked, and Murphy just making fun of it until they both hit each other from time to time, but you knew they didn’t mean anything bad by it, so it was fun too…you didn’t know what was more entertaining, to watch the movie or to watch the MacManus…they had a way of moving in sync most of the time that was hypnotizing, even if it was just to bring food into their mouth, but when they began bickering they were so endearing and funny…you loved it.

At some point, though, once you three had finished your food, you started to find it hard to focus on the movie, as you felt Murphy’s fingers playing with your hair. You froze for a second before looking at Murphy, who was sat down between Connor and you. He smirked at you and you felt your cheeks heating up but a smile tugged at your lips too, it seemed that every time that Murphy smiled, you couldn’t help but smile too.

Murphy’s smirk went wider at that, and his fingers caressed your hair again before he casually placed his arm around your shoulders. It felt nice, to have him so close to you, almost kind of holding you, but you couldn’t stop your shyness and nerves. You tried to relax, though, you didn’t want Murphy to think that you were uncomfortable or that you wanted him to move away from you…not that there was much space left on the small, tattered sofa though.

“Ye both ain’t lookin’ at the screen, yer gonna miss the best part of the movie,” Connor complained, and you looked away from Murphy and to the tv, a bit embarrassed at being caught by Connor staring at his twin, but also part of you was kind of glad to escape Murphy’s intense glance, that made you feel shy while also making you feel twirls in your belly…

“The whole movie is the best part of the movie for ye,” Murphy scoffed, chuckling.

“It’s a damn good movie,” Connor said as he shoved his brother, pushing him closer to you…not that Murphy seemed to mind, and honestly, you didn’t either, even if it made you shy.

You still wondered what was Murphy’s deal, though, if he wanted just to mess around and have fun, kiss you sometimes, hold you while you watched tv it seemed too, and that was it, or if it meant something else, more. You still didn’t know how to bring it up, how to ask, you knew you should, so as not to obsess, thinking and wondering about it all the time, but the idea of asking him made you feel so awkward… You decided to just enjoy whatever it was, at least for that night.

Once the movie finished, and Connor’s monologue about it finished too, you three made your way to the pub. No sooner had you stepped inside, you excused yourself and rushed to the bathroom. You had been needing to go for a while now, but since there was no walls or anything hiding the toilet at the MacManus’ place, you had been waiting until you were at the pub, no matter neither of the twins had seemed to have any qualms about it while you were there.

Once you left the bathroom, you noticed that the brothers had sat down on one of the tables instead of at the bar counter, and you liked it more. They were sat down next to each other, and when you approached them, Murphy smiled at you, pushing a pint towards the seat in front of him, while Connor looked at you seeming amused.

“We ordered ye a pint, love, hope it’s okay? Murphy asked you.

“Yes, it’s perfect, thanks.” You nodded as you sat down, but you frowned at Connor, wondering why he seemed so amused, and he noticed it, smirking.

“So, lass…I was tellin’ to my brother that ye were too shy to take a piss at home and that’s why ye ran to the bathroom like that,” he said, and you almost groaned aloud, mortified and beyond embarrassed. Your cheeks burned and you almost hid your face on your hands. “See…told ye.”

Connor chuckled, looking at his brother, and you felt like hitting him in the head like Murphy sometimes did…they both seemed to enjoy embarrassing each other, and you hoped Connor, or even both, hadn’t decided to extend it to you too and try to embarrass you too.

“What…but lass, ye got nothin’ to be embarrassed about!” Murphy said, which just made you feel more embarrassed. “We all gotta piss!”

“Can we just…talk about anything else at all? Please?” You begged, feeling your face so hot that you wouldn’t be surprised if it caught fire.

The twins seemed to take pity on you, letting it go, and they began telling you about one day at work in which Murphy got himself locked inside the bathroom of the meatpacking factory. and Connor had to “throw the door open to rescue him, lass, we had to pay for it, ‘cause Murphy was an idiot,” he explained, earning a shove from Murphy.

“I ain’t an idiot, the lock was not openin’ no matter what, I promise, love,” Murphy insisted as if it was a matter of life or death.

“I believe you,” you assured him, laughing, and as the brothers began bickering again, you couldn’t help your grin looking at them, they were just so fun to be around, that soon you had forgotten your earlier embarrassment.

Unsurprisingly, the MacManus finished their drinks before you, and so Murphy went to the bar counter to order a couple more. The waitress was busy waiting tables, Murphy had been right when he told you that the pub was busier at the weekends, there was almost the double of people than you had seen before, and so the twins didn’t want to bother the waitress.

You looked at Murphy as he waited for Doc to get him the drinks, getting lost in thought again. You had tried to, but you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering to what Murphy thought of you, of this thing that seemed to be going between you and him, whatever it was…

You heard Connor chuckling and when you looked at him you felt your cheeks heating up at his amused smirk.

“Do I wanna know what are ye thinkin’ lookin’ at my brother like that…or don’t I?” He teased you, arching an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” you murmured, looking down, and judging by Connor’s chuckle, he didn’t believe you.

“He’s been all corny and givin’ ye the heart eyes since St. Patrick’s too, it’s made it easier to mess with him, gotta thank ye for that,” Connor chuckled again.

You felt as if your heart had done a summersault while butterflies decided to flutter in your belly…Murphy gave you the heart eyes? Really? Connor knew his twin, so it must be true, right? Unless Connor was just messing with you…it didn’t seem like so, though.

Connor looked at his brother, who was coming back with their drinks. “Don’t go breakin’ my brother’s heart, though, lass.” His voice let you know that he was joking, but anyway, you didn’t plan on doing that, you were more concerned about the opposite…still, the sight of Murphy’s grin as he sat down in front of you, had you smiling like an idiot again, despite the mess of feelings in your heart and the mess of thoughts in your head, despite any concern about what was going on between you and him.

Well, we got kisses.

If you liked this, reblogs and comments are more than welcome, thanks.

As always, excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

Murphy MacManus taglist, let me know if you want to be (un)tagged:

@pancakefancake @mychemicalimagines @lilythemadqueen @theteaset @hells-mistress @coffeebooksandfandom @phoenixblack89 @soraitmnt @sourwolf-sterek32 @hopplessdreamer

@huffledor-able541 @browneyes528 @princessxpunk @easypeasyweasleywheezes

@bitchynicole

@crustyrose @dazzledamazon @pittbull-enthusiast @elodieyung @leej2468 @angelofthorr @pulplorrd @collecting-stories @sapphire-angel

#murphy macmanus #murphy macmanus x reader #murphy macmanus/reader #murphy macmanus fanfiction #murphy macmanus imagine #murphy macmanus & reader #murphy macmanus fanfic #murphy macmanus fic #the boondock saints fanfiction #the boondock saints imagine #murphy macmanusxreader

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ribbononline · 3 years

Text

When the joke AU gets out of hand and now its like, a whole thing

SO uhm here is the post about the fake marriage on Pasio au! Where the whole fake marriage thing ended up becoming more of a B plot more then anything, oops. The premise kind of got lost on me as I went along.

First things first, here’s the information I gathered from the Hoenn timeline in Pokemas itself so yall know what im working with (and as a side note, if you have no idea about the basic story of Pokemon Masters, the rest of this entire post might be a little confusing);

-Brendan is Normans son, and May the daughter of professor Birch. Brendan has at least defeated Normans gym, and neither of them have met Aqua or Magma, nor Archie or Maxie.

-Magma and Aqua don’t seem to be publicly known as bad in any way.

-The meteor with Zinnia has already happened, and someone else took that destiny from her. (I’ll be honest- I never end up really explaining this here. I had no idea how to even begin making sense of this considering this is post game stuff and Brendan never even seems to have made it to the Elite Four as far as we know)

And with that ! Here’s the actual story I managed to make out of that.

-The backstories for Archie and Maxie are the same as they’d normally be. Things only get different once the ORAS plots would normally start.

Magma and Aqua both don’t commit crimes (such as orb or submarine stealing) with their uniforms on and under their team names. As such, they’re still seen as regular, legit environment organisations trying to better the region.

May and Brendan never get involved with them either. Between no meddling kids and their crimes not being tied back to them, things end up going pretty fast on their end.

-Their crimes aren’t connected nor is anyone looking into them as something bigger- right up until the orbs get stolen. Those are considered important enough artifacts to raise some attention, and so, Steven and Wallace brought on the case to investigate as the Hoenn champions.

-It’s a lot easier said then done, and while they start to suspect Aqua and Magma have something to do with it, they have no concrete proof. Still, they do their best to figure out if it’s them and what their intentions with it would be.

-Regrettably for them they are too slow. Maxie and Archie both make it to the sea cavern , and both raise their respective legendaries. Kyogre is there, Groudon is there, as a result even Rayquaza shows up. There’s a lot going on— and then, within a couple of minutes, there isn’t. All legendaries vanish into thin air, so fast that the population of Hoenn never even realised what was happening out on sea. Except for some unfortunate swimmers who never end up being believed.

Maxie and Archie feel devestated, and the Hoenn League who did notice what happened is very alarmed. Keeping the incident quiet as to not incite a panic, Steven and Wallace are pushed onto this case instead now- to locate the missing legendaries, and ensure they won’t cause any harm- and maybe figure out what caused them to awaken in the first place.

Wallace and Steven immediately link that to the orbs, and as such, Aqua and Magma. Still, they have no actual proof- no one outside their teams saw Archie or Maxie doing anything.

-The reason behind the sudden disappearances turns out to be Hoopa! Who brought all of them to Pasio. The legendaries immediately went from fighting mode into very confused mode. They don’t know where they are or what happened. Groudon ends up hiding in the volcano on the island, while Kyogre keeps to the bottom of the water surrounding the island. -Rayquaza however doesn’t hide itself- and instead, floats around on a mountain top on the island. Rumors start floating around about it, and before long Zinnia shows up and becomes a sync pair with it.

-Steven and Wallace hear Rayquaza is over in Pasio, and figure the other two might be as well- so they go over to investigate. They also talk some with Zinnia about Rayquaza, but since it appears to be fine and calm and Zinnia is not planning on giving it up, she ends up keeping it and they leave her be to search for Groudon and Kyogre instead.

-Magma and Aqua also catch wind of Rayquaza being over there, and even hear about some sightings of what appear to be Kyogre and Groudon around the island. Now the plan is to get over there and get them…. but the problem is that Steven and Wallace are both there, and they’re well aware those two suspect them- and that suddenly showing up for no reason would probably only worsen those suspicions. While the both of them have complete faith in their power as a team, they’d rather not pick a fight with two champions if they can avoid it- especially when they’re on an island full of other champions and elite four members who would probably back them up if asked.

-Going with their entire team would definitely be too suspicious. That’s out. Going with their admins might still be risky- Plus, they can’t exactly leave their teams unattended back in Hoenn. So, Maxie and Archie end up figuring that the best course of action would be for them to go alone, at least for the time being. Scout out if they can locate the legendaries and a way to get to them- and then call backup if needed.

…But if they both go alone at the same time and end up fighting each other while they’re there… it wouldn’t help their case.

-And so, after some thinking things over, Maxie ends up deciding it’d be best if they went together under a temporary truce. So off to Aqua to talk it over with Archie he goes! There, they come up with their plan; faking a marriage, and going to Pasio under the excuse of being on honeymoon. Steven and Wallace wouldn’t be expecting it, so maybe it’d throw them off track! And for the rest of the trainers on Pasio- well, who isn’t happy for a couple living their best life? With a little luck it’d immediately make people trust them a bit more.

-So to Pasio they go! Maxie takes Camerupt as his sync partner, Archie partners with his Sharpedo. They rent a little vacation home- for obvious reasons, they’ll have to live together for a while, but with a little luck they can just avoid each other most of the time. Besides, at least the ad specified there being two beds.

-They misread the ad. There’s one single two person bed. Archie is promptly demoted to sleeping on the couch.

In general, while they do well enough at faking being very affectionate and loving in front of people, the moment they’re back in their house it’s a lot of fighting.

-Steven and Wallace are not stupid, and are immediately wary when Maxie and Archie suddenly show up no matter how well they’re putting on an act. Still, there’s not a lot they can do except keep an eye on them and ensure they stay away from the areas Kyogre and Groudon are spotted.

-The rest of the island however thinks they’re nice! Look at the cute couple having fun. Good for them.

-Overall, while things are going decently okay for Archie and Maxie, Steven and Wallace constantly blocking off areas where they could gather intel and trailing their every move is really hindering their ability to be able to do much of anything. And so the four of them enter an awkward stand still, where neither can really get the other off the island.

-For a while, Maxie and Archie just try to put on the act as best as they can, to hopefully get Steven and Wallace to lower their guard. They go on ‚dates‘ together, hang out with the other people around the island, attend events together, etc. Steven and Wallace still don’t trust them for shit however, and end up pushing May and Brendan towards them in the hopes that they might be able to spot something off.

-Brendan and May have no idea what anyone is trying to do here, and actually really like Archie and Maxie. They help show them all there is on Pasio and introduce them to new people time and time again.

-Eventually, Maxie and Archie realise that this is going to take a lot longer then they were hoping for- between Steven and Wallace not budging, and the trainers on Pasio constantly keeping them busy- they’re going to need an excuse to keep staying here. And they don’t actually need to wait long! -While being a lot less aggressive and in people’s face about it, Archie still talks about the environmental impact the island has on the ocean around it a good bit to some of the other trainers there- he is leader of an environmental group focused on the sea back at home, after all! People actually start agreeing with him, to a point it even reaches Lear. Conceding something should be done, Sawyer starts working on putting a team together that would help undo the damage they’ve caused by making the oceans around the island more habitable for the Pokemon that were made homeless because of them. Archie is one of the first people to get asked to join the team- and having a job there makes a great excuse to stay a while longer. Besides, it’s still working towards his goal to some extent, so he’s down! -A bit after that Maxie ends up joining the team that made the island and is currently in charge of keeping it thriving. Same for him- the job still aligns with his ideals, so he doesn’t mind doing it.

-This was also the time Archie started having serious back pain from sleeping on the couch each night, so he took the bed as well. Maxie threatened to kick him out, Archie wished him luck with that and… well, they both just keep to their side of the bed now.

-Back at home, Magma and Aqua are being good legit environmental groups working within the law. It’s been gaining them a great reputation, and being fully legitimate and not having to fear getting charged for crimes is also very nice for the teens working as grunts there.

-And so back in Pasio, Maxie and Archie forcefully have to take a step back from their plans… to live relatively normal lives instead. Surprise surprise, it’s not actually that bad! They enjoy their jobs, they actually start making some friends, half the kids on the island seem to have adopted them as cool new uncles… and they even start fighting less in private! They can actually get along sometimes.

Eventually the realisation hits that they’re living out the lives they wanted- before they ever joined Rocket and everything went so terribly wrong. Except their marriage being ‚fake‘, this was more or less the future they envisioned… and it’s very weird to think about.

-For Maxie, he does get sad reminiscing, and reminisce he does- but as long as Archie keeps going , he’d never give up his plans. While originally raising Groudon was truly out of his ideals, over time (and when their original breakup happened) it became less about that- and more about ‚winning‘ - winning out over Archie, and proving to both himself and the other he’d been right all along. Even when the evidence started pointing towards that not being the case and Tabitha only agreeing this was a bad idea, he was so caught up in not being able to lose now he never backed down- and just reassured himself the science had to be wrong.

As long as Archie is going, so is he.

-Archie however…. Archie’s plans of flooding the world to reset it- undo the damage humanity caused by ending it entirely- were born out of feeling like there truly was no other option, truly was no other good left. Being focused on that goal every day, it wasn’t hard to stay in that mindset. But now, having to forcibly take a step back- suddenly getting to live a normal life again, with a way to help that doesn’t require death and a support system outside of Aqua… Suddenly the hope returns that maybe there is more out there- maybe there is another way to go about this.

And so, after a lot of thinking, and a lot of doubting every answer he came up with- finally he rang up Shelly and Matt to talk things over, and talk about leaving Kyogre be. Shelly was thrilled- at the end she didn’t trust his plans with Kyogre anymore anways and seeing Archie finally with agree with her on that was a big relief to her. Matt didn’t entirely understand, but Archie seemed happier with this idea, and Shelly definitely seemed happier with this idea- so he certainly didn’t mind.

Afterwards, Shelly ends up privately talking to Archie some more, where he confided a lot in her about stuff he never told her before. It was a lot to take in, and she definitely wasn’t happy about his plans having always been to more or less commit genocide on humanity without ever having told them- but at the end of the day, he’s still her friend, no damage has actually been done, and he’s finally talking to her about it so they can work it out. As such, with some help from her, Archie ends up going to therapy on the regular to help keep him in a better headset.

-After all of this, Archie pulls Maxie aside to let him know he’s giving up on Kyogre, and Maxie… just doesn’t know how to feel about it at all- doesn’t even know if he can trust him. He certainly wasn’t expecting this either way. For a while, Archie just goes about his day on Pasio, while Maxie went very very quiet, just watching him from a distance.

They both spend so much time on this- suddenly given up was something he never thought would be an option, and it’s a lot to process. Besides, Archie could be lying. ….But truthfully, he’s known the other way too long to believe that. Archie is serious about this, and it’s not particularly hard to tell.

So, after a lot of hemming and hawing, he too finally rings up Courtney and Tabitha and calls of their mission with Groudon.

Magma and Aqua are both just legit regular environmental organisations now.

-Now with that decision made, they end up talking a lot over between each other themselves. About their past, about their teams, and about what they want to do now. This is where they finally decide to actually give their relationship another chance as well. Not necessarily as a romantic relationship- thought not strictly as just friends either. They decide to just take it slow, see what they’re comfortable with, and see where it takes them from there.

(A lot of trainers in Pasio actually worry this is when they got into a fight- since they stop acting overly affectionate to put on an act, and instead get to have awkward conversations trying to rekindle their relationship. Everyone is so worried about what happened. Sorry guys, they’ll be okay)

-Though they fully intent on going back to Hoenn and their teams, they’re not in a hurry to leave and stick out their job contract which only were for about half a year total anyways. During this, even Steven and Wallace start noticing a change in them and finally lower their guard a bit. They never do end up attempting to get to the legendaries- they’re just enjoying their time here now.

-When they do finally get back to Hoenn, they merge the teams and help the land and the sea together now. Archie also ends up convincing Maxie to join him for therapy sometimes- even without them almost ending the world, they do still both have their things to work trough.

-Groudon and Kyogre just vibe on Pasio now. They let kids battle them for fun sometimes. They’re doing alright.

-Brendan and May end up visiting Archie and Maxie a lot! That’s their cool gay uncles now.

-Somewhere along the way, as time passes, they actually end up legitimising the marriage documents they faked at the very start. And they still return to Pasio from time to time to meet up with the friends they made there. :]

Apologies if any of this was messy or unclear! it was a lot to try and condense down into a single post and I did my best, but ykno. if there did appear to be smth missing feel free to shoot me a message or an ask orz also this is my second time writing this post- first time i made the stupid mistake of typing it up in browser. And after over an hour of typing this all up…. tumblr refreshed for no reason, and deleted all of it. so writing this all a second time has been even harder then the first. ;; it hurt so bad.

Also, I do have a lot of thoughts n ideas abt the actual relationships they end up having w other characters on the island, but I’m saving that for another post! With the premise of Pasio there’s just so much potential to stuff all these diff characters from diff games into a place togehter and i want to make the most of that- so its prolly gonna b another long post lmao. i wont make this one even longer then it already is, so diff post it is

just know that they did in fact once see Giovanni on the island, and they almost ended up throwing hands.

(bonus; the link to the page where I keep all my oras HC posts and comics sorted)

#oras #pokemon oras #magma leader maxie #team magma maxie #team aqua archie #aqua leader archie #hardenshipping #fuck man #i was done w the OG post at 3am #n i was gonna go to bed #then it self destructed #its 5am now. i hate it here #AT LEAST ITS DONE. HELP #welcome to the shitshow <3 where i write up a Lot #i hope this makes sense ! it took uh. too much time #n i cant wait to get to character interactions wwwww #i like how the premise was a fake marriage au for funni hijinks then it immediately became the B plot #i promise the funni hijinks exist. theyre just more minor n as such not included in full on writeup posts where i have to keep an entire #plot going lmao #ok i post this now before the site crashes again #also i meant to get done on the starting the teams main timeline hc post first but #brainwaves suddenly hit hard for this one KJHFDS #i was bored one day at work n the brain was like congrats. we r making this a serious au now #n i was like HUH

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renegadeontherunn · 3 years

Note

hello fiona my love, hope you are doing amazing - i am so excited you are doing prompts!!! AAAAHHHH could you do 29. "you're a really bad liar." with obi & soka?? or really whoever you want!!! ily queen

SAM MY LOVE!!!!! AHHHH THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK AND FOR YOUR KIND WORDS I HOPE YOU'RE DOING WONDERFULLY TOO ILY!!!!!! and thank you for being my first EVER prompt fill!!!!!

29. “you’re a really bad liar.” // from these prompts! // read it on ao3!

Ahsoka doesn’t look at the Temple.

She can still feel it—that gentle warmth and familiar glow—wherever she goes, but she doesn’t look at it. And it’s fine. She doesn’t need to see it to still feel the gaping hole where the Jedi used to reside and she shoves the Force away at every opportunity.

Ahsoka pulls her cloak tighter. The nights have been getting colder and colder and she finds herself missing the Temple (and its inhabitants) more and more.

She looks over her shoulder again on instinct, half expecting to see Anakin or Master Yoda, or even Rex. But there’s just the usual blank, dark faces of the Coruscant nightlife and Ahsoka breathes a sigh of sad relief. If she can just get off Coruscant, get to a new planet, maybe somewhere Mid-Rim, then she can actually relax. Then she’ll be free. Ahsoka shakes her head, arms wrapping around herself.

She shouldn’t have to worry about being free.

The diner she steps in is nicer than most of the ones she’s frequented in the weeks she’s been exiled, and it’s late enough to not be crawling with too many sketchy figures. The Force simmers as the little bell dings to announce her entrance, and so Ahsoka keeps her senses sharp. A quick reaction can be the difference between life and death. She’s learned that enough times.

“Ahsoka.”

There. Ahsoka’s shoulders tense up immediately, her whole body freezing, and she squeezes her eyes shut. Of course. Of course. Ahsoka thought she wasn’t sure if she wanted to see anyone—each check behind herself was bittersweet, would it be better to reconnect or is complete isolation the safest option?—but as soon as the quiet, surprised word drifts into the air, an anvil slams down on Ahsoka’s chest and she wishes she was anywhere else.

She could leave. She could just turn around and walk—run—away, hide back in her seedy apartment with the moldy ceiling and rusty door. But something, be it obligation or pride or just plain shock, forces Ahsoka’s head to her left and she locks eyes with Master Kenobi.

He’s dressed exactly as she remembers: a few thousand layers of robes with no doubt the hundredth brown cloak wrapped loosely around his shoulders. There’s a full cup of what looks like cold caf nestled between his hands. Ahsoka tries not to walk too woodenly over to him, screaming against her own body for betraying her.

Not now, not him, not this.

His face is paler, a bit more sunken than it used to be, or so Ahsoka thinks, but his face is all pleasant surprise and familiar, if a bit hesitant, warmth.

“Please, sit down.” He gestures to the seat across from him.

Ahsoka’s heart lurches. “I’m good.”

A beat of silence. She sits.

His eyes scan her face. “How are you?”

“Fine,” she answers automatically. Oh, this is not going to go well.

Obi-Wan doesn’t seem fazed. He nods. “That’s great.”

More silence. Ahsoka tries not to fidget, fails; tries not to stare, fails at that too. And her flailing attempts to squash the surging anger inside herself—well, you can probably guess.

“What brings you to a place like this at such an hour?”

Ahsoka nearly huffs. He hasn’t changed a bit. She can’t decide if that’s comforting or . . . disappointing. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Obi-Wan nods again. “You could.”

She doesn’t.

“Would you like something to eat?”

Ahsoka’s mind goes on the defensive immediately, though she knows that’s completely off the mark. Does she not look like she can support herself? She doesn’t want—or need—his help, his charity. Ahsoka is perfectly fine on her own, thanks (for nothing), and has no desire for unsolicited aid.

“No.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t flinch, but Ahsoka feels like he wants to. Like this conversation is somehow pricking his chest with bitter pain. Well, that makes two of them.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright.”

Ahsoka bites her tongue hard, fangs digging in deep enough to make her head pound.

Obi-Wan’s brow twitches, lips pulling down into a pretty good impression of concern. “Ahsoka?”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He blinks at her. “I’m sorry?”

Ahsoka’s eyes widen and she huffs in near-incredulous mocking. “Are you?”

His face darkens a touch. “Ahsoka—”

“Stop.” Force, why hadn’t she just walked out? “Whatever you’re about to say—don’t.”

But Obi-Wan has always loved talking, and Ahsoka should know that. “Ahsoka, please. I understand your feelings toward—”

“No you don’t.”

Obi-Wan’s jaw clicks shut.

Ahsoka’s face grows warm. “You can’t possibly imagine what I’m feeling, what I went through, other than your own part in it.”

“You’re right.” Obi-Wan’s hand is out and Ahsoka can’t remember if it always used to shake like that. “I misspoke. But I do know that you’re hurt and you have every right to be. I am so sorry.”

If this conversation doesn’t end soon, Ahsoka is either going to start throwing punches or sobbing and neither is a great look for her. “Okay.”

“If I could go back—”

“Well you can’t. And neither can I, but I guess that’s life.”

She’s purposely trying to goad him; fighting has always been easier than talking and maybe if they’re both angry, then Ahsoka won’t have to deal with the regret and guilt and fear and homesickness. But Obi-Wan is not so easily led.

“I only wish to explain, though I know it can never fully alleviate the pain of what happened. May I?”

Ahsoka can’t think of anything she wants less than to hear what he has to say. She wants—she wants Obi-Wan to stop talking, wants him to feel her devastation, she wants him to see how she is crumbling beneath the weight of what his Council has done to her.

“You all expelled me. You lost faith in me the second you got the chance to jump ship.” She chokes back tears. “The Jedi were supposed to be there for me—you were supposed to be there for me. Like family, right?”

Obi-Wan looks half on the verge of tears too.

“Ahsoka, I never lost faith in you, you must believe me.” He reaches for her. “I promise you, I tried everything in my power to speak for you in the Council, to try to prove your innocence.”

Ahsoka scoffs, feeling more bitter by the moment. “Fantastic job. Do you want applause?” She’s not sure where all this pent-up rage is coming from; she’s spent enough time meditating, considering the situation, her decision, trying to look at every angle. It’s been months. She thought she was past it. Or, at least, mostly past it.

“I understand your anger at me, I feel it myself. I completely failed you in your trial, Ahsoka, don’t think I’m unaware of that.” Ahsoka’s nails cut crescents in her palms. “I wish I could’ve done more—I should’ve done more.”

“You know what? Yeah, you should’ve. But this isn’t about you, Obi-Wan.” The name is sour on her tongue. “If forcing all this guilt on yourself somehow makes you feel better, be my guest, but you don’t have to burden me with the guilt of not absolving you from it.”

Because Ahsoka does feel guilty. She wants to forgive him and have everything go right back to the way it was, she a Jedi, he her partial Master, the three of them more like family than anything else. Her own stinging words churn in her stomach, half her brain raging against the other half: accept what’s probably your last chance at that old happiness or fuel the retribution you’re convinced you deserve. And she doesn’t know if she actually deserves it. And more importantly, she’s not sure Obi-Wan deserves this.

Haven’t they all been through enough?

But Ahsoka has never been good at thinking before speaking. And it’s a hell of a lot easier to feed the wolf craving vengeance than to scale the high road.

“Ahsoka, I am so sorry—”

Tears stinging her eyes, Ahsoka grabs her cloak, nearly knocking her chair over, her eyes never leaving Obi-Wan’s. “You’re a really bad liar.”

Obi-Wan flinches like he’s been struck.

Ahsoka lets the festering rage in her chest slither up to her tongue, lashing out in the empty air. “You’d think you’ve had enough practice.” Her voice is rough, harsh with stifled tears, words ripping holes where affection and warmth used to rest. All Ahsoka feels now, though, is scraped raw, and frustrated, angry confusion, and . . . and something else she doesn’t have time for. The door handle is cold on her blazing skin.

“Ahsoka!” Obi-Wan grabs her arm. She tries to shake him off, but his grip is too strong in its desperation. “Please, listen.”

Tears are dotting the greasy floor now and Ahsoka doesn’t know if they’re hers or Obi-Wan’s. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that, I—” She’s still pulling away. The bell on the door is ringing.

“Ahsoka—”

“Just let go!”

The Coruscant air is freezing on Ahsoka’s face and she wrenches her arm away as they burst out of the diner.

They turn to face each other, blue eyes to blue eyes, two strangers with far too many memories.

“Ahsoka.”

And his voice is home and friendship and comfort and Anakin and the past.

“I’m sorry.”

The air is too stuffy, her chest too tight. There’s no room for the past in the scathing pieces of her heart.

She bolts off into the darkness.

“Ahsoka!”

#fiona speaks #AHHHHHHHHHHHH #AM I WRITING/POSTING FIC LITERALLY FIVE MINUTES BEFORE I LEAVE FOR COLLEGE? MA Y B E #anyway!#thank you so much for this ask sam!!!!#oh MAN this prompt was so fun to write #i've been feeling the angst the past few days so this is what you get akljsdkljask #or should i say mwahahahaha #i hope you like it!!!!#AHHHHH #answered #my writing #sam tag!#star wars #obi k & soka #yikes...YIKES #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano

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cursed-or-not · 4 years

Text

I couldn’t get one of the vignettes to work, so naturally this sat in my drafts for way too long, but this is based on a post by @thiscastielhasflown about Cas blushing around Dean :)))

Cas doesn’t think he’s ever felt so human and so holy at the same time.

He is not who he thought he was, and neither is Dean Winchester.

When Cas accepted his orders, when he agreed to go to Hell, it was under the pretense of rescuing a righteous man. Cas expected a soul so pure it hurts to look at it straight-on, one so bright it burns.

What he did not expect were the ragged shards in front of him, thrumming like a heartbeat.

It’s not the concept of a soul, not the made-to-order design, but instead the lived-in, broken essence of a human.

It is still bright, but just enough that Cas can’t look away.

Here is a human soul: righteous and recalcitrant and real.

Cas doesn’t know how he’s supposed to move on. This is an order unlike any other, a mission he’s not sure he can complete; he doesn’t know how he can pull this soul from the fire with the clinical precision that’s expected of him. He isn’t sure he can leave the scene without leaving fingerprints, a sprawling scar that proves his guilt.

Yes, this is ordered, but it’s also intimate.

Cas knows what souls look like in theory, but this is messy and charred, and there is light shining through the tatters.

Cas is captivated by the man behind it.

Here, Cas can see the toll a lifetime takes on a human; he can see this soul’s--Dean’s-- greatest joys and miseries, can feel his pain and pleasure and imperfection.

It’s achingly, hauntingly personal, and Cas’ face burns at the intimacy of it all.

Cas doesn’t know what this feeling is, but he thinks it’s distinctly human.

Cas is already marked.

. . .

It happens more and more often now that he’s human.

Cas’s cheeks burn every time a customer yells at him at the Gas n Sip, every time Nora looks at him a little too long, every time he makes a new mistake at being human.

It never feels the same as when it’s Dean making him blush, but Cas has started to forget what that feels like.

When Dean visits, he can’t fathom how he ever couldn’t remember.

They’re in Dean’s motel room together, and Cas is trying with everything in him not to break down.

This man, this kind, beautiful, caring man is the same one who sent Cas away.

He doesn’t know how to reconcile that, and Cas feels ready to burst with everything he’s not saying.

Part of him wants to ask. Part of him wants to make Dean tell him why Cas had to leave, why he wasn’t good enough anymore, and part of him wants to tell Dean that look, this is what’s become of me since then; I don’t have a bed or a home or a family, and I don’t know what I did wrong, but I know you sent me away.

Another part of him wants to cup Dean’s jaw in his hands and kiss him until everything feels okay.

“You know, Cas, it’s real good to see you,” Dean says, and Cas almost yells at the sincerity.

It’s not fair. It’s not fair because Cas wants to hear it and Dean means it and they’re still so far apart.

“You too, Dean,” Cas tells him, because this part of him always wins out.

Dean offers a small smile, but something in his face is crumpled and wavering beneath it.

Dean lets out a quick exhale, and Cas can’t read his expression.

“Cas…” Dean begins, and Cas doesn’t want to hear it anymore.

“It’s okay,” Cas says quickly, and he can’t tell if he means it or not.

Dean closes his eyes.

“It’s not,” he shakes his head bitterly. “I’ll explain it to you, one day, but for now it’s shitty and selfish and not okay.”

Cas doesn’t know what to say. He’s still hurt and angry, but this is Dean, and today is one of the days Cas wishes that he had powers that could heal more than just physical wounds. He wishes he could lay a hand on Dean and make him better, make him smile, but even when he was an angel, the best he could do was heal battle wounds before they bled out. Today, he doesn’t even have powers.

“I believe that you had a good reason,” Cas says honestly.

He doesn’t know what else he believes, but that much has to be true.

“It doesn’t matter if I did,” Dean tells him, but he doesn’t look quite as exhausted as he did before. “I’m sorry.”

Cas smiles gratefully.

“Thank you for coming,” Cas says. “And for letting me stay with you.”

“Well, mi casa es tu casa,” Dean jokes, gesturing around the motel room. “Weird stains and all.”

Cas almost slips up, then. He almost says that a cheap motel room with Dean is better than a sleeping bag in a lonely store, but he catches himself.

“I don’t mind,” Cas says instead. “I’m grateful.” Dean huffs a laugh.

“Come on, man, it’s not like I’m doing a huge favor. It’s a shitty motel room.” Dean grins. “Not even the honeymoon suite.”

For some reason, the idea of sharing a honeymoon suite sets Cas’s cheeks ablaze.

Dean doesn’t notice under the dingy motel lighting.

Later, when Dean wakes up to Cas watching him for the first time in years, Cas doesn’t notice the blush coloring Dean’s cheeks, either.

. . .

“I love you.”

The words hang in the air like the Sword of Damocles, but Cas thinks that the only one threatened is himself.

Dean won’t say it back, Cas knows.

He isn’t sure what he expected, but Dean won’t look him in the eyes and Cas needs to say something else before this stretches on any longer and his cheeks are burning again.

Cas wishes he could write off the blush as an effect of the poison, but he thinks that whatever this is won’t break as easily as a fever.

Cas looks away.

“I love all of you.”

He leaves it at that.

. . .

Cas has been back for three days when the house of cards finally crashes.

It’s been delicate, since he got back.

He understands; you can’t just drop a love confession on someone and expect it not to get awkward. Cas may not understand everything about being human, but this, he does.

At first the lack of confrontation surprised him. Looking back, though, Cas thinks that it’s the most in character reaction possible.

Cas had come back, Dean had pulled him into a fierce hug, and then they’ve been carefully avoiding any alone time since.

Cas thinks this might be the kindest reaction, might just be Dean trying not to break his best friend’s heart, but the silence is worse.

Cas has accepted his role in all of this, and he knows not to expect more than he can have. Still, if nothing else he wants his best friend back.

Cas has never really been one to take the first step, but considering the leap of faith he took before the Empty came, he figures he can manage a conversation.

He waits until Dean’s the only one left in the kitchen.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says carefully, and Dean doesn’t look as trapped as he expected. Mostly, he just looks tired.

“I think…” Cas struggles to find a way to begin. “We should talk.”

Dean nods around his beer, taking care not to look at Cas.

Cas stays on the other side of the counter.

“I know that we’re acting like nothing has changed,” Cas begins, “And if that’s what you want, then I understand. But if you have any… concerns, then--”

“Really, Cas? Concerns?”

Cas blinks. “Maybe that’s not exactly the right word, but--”

“Cas, that’s not even the right sentiment,” Dean responds, finally looking at him.

“Then what are you looking for?” Cas asks, and he hates that even now, he doesn’t know.

“What am I looking for?”

If Dean objected to “concerns,” his offense is even greater now. Cas’s brow furrows.

Dean continues, “Cas, you told me you love me!”

Cas almost flinches.

“I know,” he says quietly. “I did.”

Cas can’t meet Dean’s eyes, but he’s not sure he wants to know what they’re saying, anyway.

“There’s-- kind of a lot to unpack there, man,” Dean says, and his voice is marginally calmer.

Cas looks up.

“I’m sorry.”

Cas knows immediately that wasn’t what Dean was looking for, but for the life of him, he can’t figure out what he is.

“You’re sorry, huh?” Dean’s voice is low, and Cas thinks there might be something ragged in it.

Cas blinks. “Yes.”

Dean huffs a bitter laugh.

“Okay, then. Think we’re done talking.”

“What-- Dean,” Cas protests, utterly confused as to how this went so wrong.

Cas steels himself to continue. “I never meant to make you uncomfortable, but Dean, I don’t want-- I can’t lose you.”

Something in Dean’s expression softens, but his shoulders stay tensed.

“You’re not gonna lose me,” he offers. “Listen, I get it. You said something on impulse and I misinterpreted it and now you’re sorry, apparently. Yeah, it sucks, but you’re not gonna lose me.”

Cas feels confusion etch onto his face.

“You think that my apology means I regret it?”

Dean looks at him like it’s obvious.

“I mean, it’s understandable,” Dean replies, gesturing widely.

Cas can’t believe how wrong this conversation is going.

“Dean, of course I don’t regret it,” Cas admits, still at a loss for how Dean could have reached that conclusion. “When someone confesses something in their dying moments that they’ve been carrying with them for more than a decade, they’re not generally lying.”

Dean looks at him half in doubt and half in wonder.

“I never said you were lying,” Dean grumbles in protest. Cas thinks the sullenness is more for show than anything else.

He has moved to Cas’s side of the counter.

“Well, I wasn’t,” Cas responds, and he knows it’s not witty or clever or important, but maybe if he keeps reaffirming it, Dean will start to believe it.

“I’m glad,” Dean says, and he puzzles Cas by offering him his beer. Now, they’re shoulder to shoulder.

Cas isn’t sure why, but he takes the beer. Dean’s eyes track the motion as he raises it to his lips, and Cas’s cheeks burn when Dean watches him swallow.

This time, Dean notices.

“You blushing?” Dean asks through a cocky grin, and damn it that just made it worse.

“No,” Cas grumbles.

“Now you’re lying through your teeth,” Dean accuses, taking his beer back and taking a sip.

“Well, I wasn’t lying about the other thing,” Cas responds, trying to regain his composure.

Dean’s joking disposition crumbles, and he glances at Cas’s face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Dean nods, looking like he’s milling something over.

He seems to decide to take another sip of beer instead, but as he raises it to his lips, he says, “I love you, too, you know.”

Of all the responses Cas was expecting, this never made the list.

His face is hot again, though, and his heartrate is a little too sporadic, and if Dean keeps drinking beer like it’s a normal friday night, Cas is going to go insane.

His brain finally catches up to the situation.

“You what?” Cas asks incredulously.

Dean’s casual dimeanor finally falls away, and this time it’s his turn to blush as he looks at Cas over his beer.

“Love you,” Dean mutters, and it’s barely audible, but it’s more than enough.

Cas gives himself five more seconds of shocked staring before he huffs a laugh.

“I never thought…” Cas doesn’t know where it’s going, just knows that he’s never felt awe like this before.

“Yeah, me either,” Dean admits. “But it’s true.”

Dean sets his bottle on the counter, and Cas watches the movement, heart still beating a little too fast.

There’s still too much to say and also nothing. When Cas turns to face Dean, Dean takes his face in his hands.

Cas looks at him in wonder, eyes tracing the freckles and smile lines on his face.

Dean bites his lip quickly, still considering something, and then Cas doesn’t know who leans in first, but they’re kissing.

It’s honey-sweet and molasses-slow, and Cas thinks that this has to be why freedom exists.

#idk definitively what this is #bc it's part 15x18 coda #and part destiel through the years #but it was nice to write something #spn fanfic #destiel #15x18 coda #first kiss #spn spoilers #mine

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