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minteyeddevil · 3 years

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What’s Mine is Mine

Mammon x GN!MC

Smut/NSFT

(toy usage, slight voyeurism)

Takes place during Ch.4A-C, where Mammon is going through your things, but he ends up finding something much more personal! (Originally written with an afab!MC on my Ao3, but rewrote it to suit GN!MC)

"What's MC's is mine, and what's mine is miiine!~"

Mammon hummed cheerfully to himself as he went through several of your drawers and your closet, searching for anything valuable he could, at least what he told himself he could, pawn off for Grimm. He found mostly casual clothing and several uniforms, nothing that looked really worth a lot of money; until he happened upon a box hidden in your desk.

"Oh? Could this have money in it?" He gave the box a slight sniff. "Nah, doesn't smell like money. Maybe jewelry, or a bank card!?" When he finally opened it, he gave a small scoff of annoyance. "Nope, just chocolate and sweets, feh."

A larger hand took the box from his quickly, and he turned with a small start to see his younger brother Beel, who was now munching on MC's sweets. "I'll take these."

"Of course, if food is around, you're bound to show up, aren'tcha Beel? Guaranteed," Mammon mumbled, before turning around to continue his search for goods in your room.

"What are you even looking for? You know this is MC's room, right?" Beel asked around a mouthful of cookie. Mammon continued to tear through your other drawers, laughing at his brother's question. "Of course I know! I'm looking for anything I can make some money off of. I can't just ask MC for money, so instead I have to look through their things while they are gone. I am sure they have something worth some money in here somewhere. And since I am stuck looking after them, I feel I have a right to take what I want from them!"

Beel gave a slight roll of his eyes, continuing to munch on the chocolate pieces in the box. "You know you won't actually sell their things, Mammon. No matter what you say, you couldn't bring yourself to actually do it."

Mammon looked at Beel with as deep a glare as he could muster. "Don't pretend ya know what I will and won't do! You're talking to THE Mammon, ya know! You bet I would sell their things, hell, I would even sell them if I knew it would turn a good profit! I don't even care about how they feel, THE Mammon doesn't care about any humans! MC isn't special to me in any shape or form!"

"I didn't mention anything about caring about them or them being special, Mammon," Beel mumbled around another mouthful, "besides, even if you did take any of their things, you made a pact with MC. All they would have to do is tell you to bring their things back and you would have to do it. You know that."

Mammom turned away from his brother, practically burying himself in digging through another drawer to hide the blush on his face. "It's not like they would know it was me! I could get away with it no problem!" He stopped suddenly when he noticed a black silky bag at the back of the drawer, and he pulled it forward. "What do we have here?" he whispered to himself, opening the bag. He froze in place when he realized what the object was, closed the bag back up and shoved it back into its spot before his brother could notice.

Thankfully, Beel was too busy shaking the box over his mouth to free up the crumbs from it to notice him. "Just admit it," he finally said with a sigh, tossing the box over his shoulder once it was completely empty. "The truth is you like your human so much that you can't handle but go through their things like this. You aren't going to sell any of this stuff."

Mammon turned on him quickly, flustered. "Are you joking!? Me, care about a human!? I don't care about some stupid human! All they are is demon food, nothing more than bugs to be stepped on! I don't care about anything this damn human does o-or owns or anything! I don't care one bit!"

Beel simply laughed at his mess of a brother. "You could have fooled me, Mammon. Look at how riled up you are getting. So desperate to seem like you don't care when you are practically screaming how much you do. It's kind of cute, actually." He placed a hand on his stomach when a loud rumble came from it, frowning. "Ugh, I'm gonna go to the kitchen and find something more to eat. Try not to destroy their room too bad, will you?"

With that, Beel left the room, leaving Mammon a flustered mess, now staring at the drawer where the silk bag was hidden. His hands shook as he reopened the drawer, and pulled the silky bag out once more. When he opened it again, he flushed instantly, realizing that what he was staring at was in fact a black dildo, that could only belong to MC. Why would they own something like this and leave it where he could so easily find it!? Oh, right...they were hiding it in their drawer, and he happened to find it. Still, would they really need something like this? Couldn't they just...ask him for help, in situations like that? Right. He was just their guard demon right now, so chances were they wouldn't ask him about something like that. Besides, he didn't care about them! He didn't care at all about them!

...Right?

Well...maybe he was more curious than anything right now so...he could ask them about it when they got home. The real issue now was, how to bring it up in conversation.

***

When you finally arrived home from class, you could hear movement coming from inside your room. Cautiously, you opened the door and peered in, only to find Mammon pacing in your room, holding something in his hands and mumbling to himself. You decided to step in and walked up to the pacing demon, placing a hand on his arm to draw his attention.

"Mammon, what are you--!?"

He acted as if you struck him, jumping a foot away from you, hiding the black bag behind his back. "MC! Wh-when did you get home? Why didn't you knock before coming in!?"

You flushed deeply when you realized what he was holding, stepping closer to him to try and take it from him. "Mammon this is my room! I don't need to knock, and you shouldn't be in here going through my things! Give that back to me!"

He moved before you could make contact with him, holding the bag above his head and out of your reach. "Not until you tell me why you have it! Where did you get it? Did Asmo give it to you or something? It looks like something he would own! Why do you have something like this, MC!?"

Your flush only deepened and swatted at his chest over and over until he curled in on himself a bit, giving you a chance to reach up and grab the bag from his hand. "Hey, give that back! You didn't answer my question!" he hollered, lunging for you.

You moved out of his reach this time and ran towards your door, swinging it open and pointing out. "Leave, now! I don't need to explain to you why I own...certain things. Now go!"

Mammon frowned, moving towards the door, but instead of leaving, closed it and locked it. He turned on you and seemed to tower over you, hands on his hips in annoyance. "I have a right to know what my human owns, so I went through your things, big whoop. I found this sex toy, and I want to know why you own it, so I would answer me if I was you before I decide to eat you. So, answer me, MC!"

You swallowed thickly at his threat, his voice getting lower and turning into a growl as he spoke. You clutched the bag to your chest, stepping back a bit from him until finally giving a deep sigh of defeat. "I got it because I've been feeling...needy, okay? Asmo told me of a place in town I could get one, no he didn't help me get it," you added when you noticed the glare on his face, "but I just...wanted something to take care of myself with. That's it. Happy now?"

You felt shame wash over your body at being caught with your toy, but you finally gave this damn demon the answer he was hounding for. You were silently hoping that would be good enough, that he would be satisfied with your answer and finally leave you alone; but instead, he stepped closer, forcing you to back up against the wall of your room and tower over you once more. He looked down at you with hunger in his eyes; a different kind you hadn't seen before. He was even slightly pouting at you.

"Ya know, MC, if you really needed help in that department ya coulda just asked me instead. I, ugh, I don't mind...taking care of ya if you really need it. Hell, you should be flattered I'd want to take care of you like that! The Great Mammon doesn't offer things like that to just anyone, ya know."

A deep blush took over his cheeks and you felt your heart flutter in your chest. "I...I didn't think you would be interested in me like that…"

He flared suddenly. "Are you dense!? Humans really are so dumb! I--" He stopped himself, taking on his cool facade once more before giving too much away. "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. But right now, I am offering to take care of you, so if I were you, I would jump on the opportunity. Besides," he took the bag from your hands quickly, "I'm curious as to how you use this thing too. So why not let me, ya know, watch?"

You squeaked, pulling the bag away from him once more and darting out of his shadow against the wall. "Watch me!? You're joking! Mammon, this is all so sudden, I couldn't let you do any of that!"

He was on you once more, and he walked you back towards your bed, pushing you back on it as he hovered above you. He gently pushed your bangs from your forehead, and gave you a smirk. "I don't see what the big deal is. You're needy, and I'm willing to help the poor human out. The least you can do for me first is show me how you play with your toy. It's not that big of a deal, is it?"

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, looking away from his face and around your room for any form of escape, until he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him once more. "C'mon MC, dontcha think it'll be fun to do with your sweet and amazing Mammon?" He leaned his head forward and placed a deep kiss against your lips. You instantly melted into his touch, giving a soft sigh as he deepened the kiss, nipping at your lip for entry into your mouth. He pulled away all too soon, making you whimper at the contact.

"So, is that a yes?" he teased, and you flushed deeply, but rolled your eyes at him.

"Okay...I'll do it."

He grinned widely at you, and shifted on your bed to give you space to finally move. He sat at the edge and watched your every move intently as you stood to strip off your uniform, leaving you in your green shirt and underwear. You went to your drawer for a moment to grab a little bottle from it and returned to your spot on the bed, blushing furiously at the excited look in Mammon's eyes. You finally removed your underwear and wanted to hide when you saw his mouth slack open from staring at you. It took everything in him to not dive in on you while you spread your legs to use your lubricant on your entrance. When you finally pressed the head of the toy to your hole he felt his breath catch in his chest when you whined at the pressure of it slightly stretching you. He watched you rub it against yourself, your eyes fluttered closed, and finally when you pushed it in, he let out a small moan along with yours.

You let it sink deep into you, pulling it out slowly and pressing it back in just as slow. You were embarrassed to be on display like this but at the same time, excited it was Mammon watching you. You let your eyes open for a moment and let out a small squeak when you noticed he was staring fully at your hands working on yourself.

Ever the impatient demon, he scooted closer to you, placing his hand on yours that was moving the toy in and out of you. "Let me take over, babe," he whispered to you, taking the toy and pressing it fully inside you. The sudden fullness made you gasp and buck against the toy, and he smirked down at you, pulling it all the way out only to slam it back into you. You didn't expect him to want to participate; but it was the Avatar of Greed here with you. He was bound to want to take over at some point.

"M-Mammon!" His name came out in a gasp when he hit a particularly sensitive spot, and he realized he desperately wanted to hear you say his name again. He used the toy on you a bit longer but soon pulled it from you and flung it across the room. You cried out at the emptiness and glared at him for a moment before realizing what he was doing.

"Fuck, I can't hold back anymore," he grumbled, scrambling to his feet to discard his clothing. He climbed atop you, and you bit your lip when you saw his full length against your middle. He looked clearly bigger than your toy and you couldn't help but rub against him as he pressed down on you to slick up his shaft with your lubed entrance. "Better be ready, babe, cause I plan on filling you to the brim," he growled against your lips before kissing you deeply and delving his cock deep inside you.

He allowed you a few seconds to adjust, before pounding into you over and over. You could feel the tip of his cock brush against that one spot deep inside, making you see stars with each thrust. He only sped up his tempo when you began to tighten around him, your nails digging into his back as he did so. His name tumbled from your lips over and over like a mantra, and he thrilled in hearing them, becoming harder inside you. Finally your vision went white and you tightened around his cock, milking him until he finally came along with you, filling you up with his seed.

He let himself collapse on top of you, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply. You could feel him still buried deep inside you and you let out a high moan when he reluctantly pulled out. He rolled you both onto your sides, pulling you into his arms tightly as he nuzzled your cheek.

"You don't need that stupid toy," he grumbled by your ear. "See? I'm far better than that hunk of rubber. If ever you feel needy like this again, just call me, and if I have the time, I'll come take care of you. Maybe," he teased, going back to his usual self.

"Well what if you don't have time? I need it just in case--"

"No!" he growled, hugging you possessively. "I will always make time for you, MC."

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me nsft #mammon x gn!reader #mammon x mc #gn!mc #mammon #fanfic

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manonblaqkbeak · 3 years

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Family Time

good morning/afternoon/evening/night. hope you’re all doing well and staying safe!!!! i have a rowaelin fic that i wanted to post before rowaelin month started since im focusing on those prompts atm

i cant wait to see what everyone has in store for rowaelin month, im very much looking forward to it!

enjoy! :)

1835 words

The day that Aelin had been looking forward to was finally here.

She and Rowan were going to spend a week in their spot in the forest. A week was longer than usual, but it was much needed. Not only had she and Rowan been working extremely hard to the point where they weren't going to bed until the middle of the night, his family was arriving to Orynth to visit for a few weeks in a week and a half.

And not just a few members of his family, almost the entire Whitethorn family was coming, with the exception of a few—namely Sellene, who would be gifting them with personal letters and presents, and those that were too old or just didn't feel like making such a long journey.

Aelin was looking forward to it, to meeting those she hadn't, to hearing others perspectives on Rowan's childhood. Her mate, however...not so much. Rowan was looking forward to catching up with the cousins that he liked, but not so much for the meddlesome ones. He warned her that whatever secrets that people were hiding wouldn't be secrets anymore, that the nosy ones liked to make a game to see who could learn the most secrets.

Aelin admitted that could be a problem, but in his letter, Enda claimed that everyone would be on their best behaviour.

Rowan wasn't entirely convinced. And not just because of that, he was worried that the conversation of when Aelin and Rowan were going to have children was going to be brought up as Rowan had written that they were forbidden from doing so.

Months ago, only several weeks after the war, after a meeting with the Lords and Ladies of Terrasen, Aelin and Rowan came to the decision to wait for a while to have children after Lord Gunnar had brought up the topic of heirs. Aelin could still remember the silence, at her speechlessness of how suddenly it was mentioned. How Rowan had turned to Lord Gunnar and demanded not just to him, but to everyone around them, that it was a private matter between the Queen and himself, and that it was not up for public discussion.

It wasn't a very long conversation—they both wanted to have a family, but Aelin wasn't ready. She was having nightmares from her time with Maeve and Cairn, and throwing pregnancy in the mix just screamed disastrous.

Rowan took her hands in his large warm ones and promised that he would wait for as long as she wanted. Whether it was one year, five years, or one hundred, he would wait until she was ready and willing.

Aelin had never loved him more.

Since then, Rowan was taking a contraceptive tonic. It hadn't taken very long for it to spread around the castle, but neither Aelin or Rowan would let others opinions change their minds.

And it wasn't like they were completely without family. They had their friends and Fleetfoot, with the canine joining them on their week long getaway.

Aelin and Rowan helped the servants set up the Royal tent and the square wooden table where they would be eating and playing chess and card games. There were a few books that Aelin was very much looking forward to reading, too.

Aelin was excited for this week away, to forgo her corsets, dresses, pants and breast-bands. She was determined to stay in Rowan's shirts and her slippers the entire time.

So the moment that everything was set up, the trays of sweet and savoury foods on the table, and the servants and guards were gone, Aelin stripped down to nothing, swaying her hips the way that Rowan liked when she spotted him drinking her in and slipped on one of his shirts and put on her well loved slippers.

Grabbing the picnic blanket from one of the chests, Aelin turned to see Fleetfoot sniffing hungrily at the trays of food, moving closer with each second that passed. Just as she was about to inhale the food, Rowan took the pup out of her misery and feed her a handful of sliced fermented sausage.

Aelin smiled at the sight. Rowan might grumble about the mess Fleetfoot made and how she kept slobbering on his pillow but Aelin knew he loved her—even when she ate his socks.

Aelin set up the blanket and pillows against a thick oak tree, ready for her week of relaxation.

X X X X X X

Aelin's stomach was near to bursting. She hadn't intended to eat that much food, since there was a leg of lamb and chopped root vegetables roasting in the cauldron above the fire, but everything was just too good to have just the once. She ate and ate until there was nothing but crumbs left.

She didn't regret it, however.

She was close to sleeping as Rowan ran a free hand through her scalp as he used the other to read. Her head was on his lap, the sun was warm, and from the happy yips that were coming from the woods, Fleetfoot was having a fun time running around.

Aelin glanced at her husband, his face relaxed as he read his book. And she had no idea why, but she found herself saying: “What would you look like with a beard?”

Rowan blinked, the only surprise he'd show at the question. “Like an old man,” he answered after a moment.

“You are an old man.”

He flicked her ear, and then went back to running his fingers through her scalp. “I grew a beard, once, when I was young. I looked like my father.”

“So you looked very handsome, then.” Rowan had taken up sketching in the quiet moments. He had drawn his parents and they were a very attractive couple. Rowan inherited his fathers hair, eyes, nose and sharp jawline, but got his mother's lips, cheekbones and eyebrows.

They had died long ago, but Aelin would have liked to have met them. Rowan said that they would have liked her, eventually, as he believed that they wouldn't have known what to do with her at first.

Aelin gave Rowan a big smile as the question formed in her mind. And since Rowan knew her so well, he said, “No.”

“You don't even know what I was going to say!” She protested, but it was a lie.

“I am not growing a beard.”

“Please, for me? Just a little one?”

“No.”

“How about some stubble?”

He sighed, exasperated, knowing that there was no point in arguing. “Fine. I'll grow some stubble and that's it.”

“Mm-hmm. Whatever you say, buzzard.”

He sighed again, but there was a small smile on his lips. He returned to his book, and telling her what it was about when Aelin asked. It made her heart swell that her warrior found time to read, as he admitted to her months ago that he never really had the opportunity when he was sworn to Maeve.

Not wanting to ruin today with thoughts of her, Aelin grabbed her own book by her pillow and read, luxuriating in Rowan's warmth and love and in the company of a good book.

X X X X X X

Aelin was losing, but she made sure that the irritation that was coursing through her didn't show on her face. Playing chess with an experience strategist was an absurd idea, but she was determined not to quit.

Rowan had been wanting for her to make her move. Had been waiting for fifteen minutes. Fleetfoot was by her feet, but she was just waiting for the roast lamb to be done.

Five minutes later, Aelin finally made her move. Her eyes flicked up towards Rowan, but his face was stone. He made his move in a blink of an eye. “Checkmate.”

Fire coated her throat as Aelin screeched in frustration, which just made Rowan laugh. Fleetfoot howled and ran off.

Aelin grumbled under her breath as she put away the chess board (for now, they would definitely be playing again once Aelin had more food in her stomach) while Rowan put their dinner on the plates, smiling all the while. Behind him, his mate vowed that she would beat him one day at chess. His smile widened.

Rowan knew that if he said he could beat her even with a blind-fold on, she would go on about how big his head was.

Fleetfoot came back, getting in the way of his feet as he put his and Aelin's dinner down. He gave Fleetfoot the plate reserved for her, using his powers to cool it down, not missing Aelin's soft smile as he did so.

They ate dinner in companionable silence, with Rowan's thoughts on his cousins. He was sure that he wasn't going to get a single thing done while they were visiting. Or if he did, he knew that some of his cousins would want to intrude.

Thinking about it more, he knew that they were going to intrude. Enda had written in-between the lines that there were some cousins that didn't really believe that Rowan was King-Consort and would only believe it once they saw him in action.

That they would actually believe once they saw him in his crown.

And even then, he was sure that there'd be at least one or two that still wouldn't believe it.

Rowan would let them think whatever they wanted about him, it wouldn't matter to him.

Maybe he should have just invited Enda and his mate—but Aelin was looking forward to meeting his family, so he would just deal with it.

It would only be a couple of weeks, possibly three. At best, four, since it was a long journey. He could last.

Rowan could do it, he would just have to block them out if they became too much. He had done that in the past.

“If you keep furrowing your brows like that, they'll replace your eyes,” Aelin said, slathering a fresh slice of bread with butter and running it through the left over gravy on her plate.

Rowan grunted but tried to relax his forehead. It took him a minute longer than it should have.

Later on, they went for a late night swim. Which was slowly turning into something more, up until Fleetfoot jumped into the water with them, saturating them further.

It was the best first day that Aelin could have asked for, and was very much looking forward to the rest of the week.

X X X X X X

Aelin woke up to one of her favourite sights. Rowan shirtless, sleeping on his stomach, his tattooed arm curled around Fleetfoot who slept between them all night. The hounds golden head half on Rowan's pillow, her paws stretching towards Aelin, her furry face soft in sleep.

Smiling, Aelin shuffled closer, and wrapped her own arms around the pup, her fingers just touching Rowan.

Joyful, Aelin fell back asleep, a smile still on her face.

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction

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captnjacksparrow · 3 years

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Hey, really liked your analysis of Hinata. I feel almost the same way about her. Even though generally I dislike female characters who are naturally meek, subservient and pointless with no character arc in any type of media, what made me absolutely hate her character was how she treated Neji. If Kishi wanted to show her arc being developed organically, instead of proposing to Naruto that removes her stuttering and gives her new found confidence (because girls only get confident when proposing to guys 🙄), Kishi could have shown her talking to Neji after he literally told his bitter story on the chuunin exam grounds in front of everyone. She is shown like she is sympathetic but didn't do anything about it. She didn't even talk to him after he was hospitalized. She knew exactly why he was the way he was, and yet she fights him as if it was his fault. She, an heir of the clan, could have asked her father to support Neji, she had some clout. But nope. In fact, it was Neji who apologizes to her in a way, he is the one who trains her and help create a new jutsu for her. What did she ever do for him exactly? And Neji didn't have to help her. She was in the best position to help and understand Neji but what did she do? A lot of fans like her character because she is reserved but kind and sympathetic. She is reserved but a coward. She was not kind towards Neji. He died for her when he didn't deserve to, he had dreams and goals that were much bigger than Hinata's entire existence. She couldn't even see her own cousin's pain and she claims to understand Naruto?? Really??

Even Kishi said she was a pitiful character who only watches from a distance. He deliberately made her that way, no goal, no backbone and no lines. And I think she sucks the most after Danzo.

WoooW!!!! Thanks for the ask, Anon.

[[Hinata and Sakura fans!!!! Please stay away and don't interact. I fucking tagged them properly]].

Even though generally I dislike female characters who are naturally meek, subservient and pointless with no character arc in any type of media, what made me absolutely hate her character was how she treated Neji.

We definitely share the same thoughts on this one, Anon.

I am really tired on most of the media for their poor treatment of female characters.

The last time I was amused by a female character was from 'Game of Thrones', I loved Cersei Lannister, who is an absolute biashhh and Sansa Stark, started out as an annoying rose tinted princess but ended up winning everyone's heart. Both are non-combative, soft spoken and somewhat powerless women in a world dominated by men. But they just didn't let the inconveniences stop them and instead they learned how to fuck that world back and take control. Both are similar and yet very different.

After seeing, such well-developed characters..... For me girls in Naruto series, is blehhhhh..... Nothing to get inspired from them. And I knew it by episode 3 itself. I have no idea how can girls, in real life, treat Sakura as some feminist icon, which makes my skin crawl for number of reasons. If you point her mistakes out in any discussions, they will pull the misogynist card to your face. When in reality, I am also a girl and my world views are entirely different from Sakura or Hinata. There is no way a 12 year old girl would want to look at the Duck of another boy.

And the problem is, They form the majority, I mean people who can connect with Sakura or Hinata. So, as long as girls like them exists, we really should suffer from these crap portrayal I guess.

That's why I advise people that If you want to see a good woman character, Narutoverse is not the place.

Having said that, I find Temari, Konan, Tsunade were better (I mean inside the Narutoverse). Though their motivations or reason to achieve a goal revolve around their men, I find their attitude relieving. Unlike Sakura or Hinata, they don't wet themselves on the sight of the men they love.

What irritates me was, Kishimoto could've easily put a character like Temari or TenTen or Tsunade into Team 7. It would've made my viewing experience a lot better. If he doesn't want the strong girls to take over the attention from his boys, then he should've introduced a meek character like Rin Nohara. She is silent and cute but atleast she was willing to die for the Village and never wetted herself over Kakashi, though she loved him. And she treated Obito like her best friend. But he deliberately made Sakura hateful and he never stopped.

Sakura and Hinata were the lowest of the low, compared to any other side characters. And, in the end, they got the main Character's Ducks without actively doing anything. For me this tells me three things

He was using these girls as a shield to close the hetero normative mouths while in reality hiding those boys true feelings under that shield.

He really hated these kind of girls and constantly showing his hatred on them at every given chance and never redeemed them back.

He knew the target audience’ mindset and he simply caters them by giving them what they need and at the same time writing the important arcs according to his wish.

I think, it’s the combination of all three.

Just to give you an example.

There is this delusional SS shipper Who justifies Sasuke was acting Tsundere throughout the war arc. I mean, come on!!!!

I came across this post because, the Original Poster was an idiot who comes into the anti SS tag and reblogged my content and saying I was wrong... So, I don’t mind sharing that person’s content.

So I don’t know where this delusion comes from... It's truly pathetic.

There are millions of idiots who believe in this kind of shit and Kishi is deliberately feeding them with bits and crumbs while making his boys go out and save the world.

These delusional mindset tells us they don’t give a single shit about the story as a whole. They watch it purely for the pretty faces and getting high over them. In this case, Sasuke.

It’s as clear as day that Sasuke didn’t care about anyone other than Naruto when fighting the war. You don’t have to be a shipper but even a non-shipper can point this out. I mean Sasuke wouldn’t have saved Jugo either, if he didn’t come to Sasuke and advice him. Do you think Sasuke would’ve tried to look for Jugo and saved him at all cost???? It’s just that he came to Sasuke and he helps him back. But Sasuke would’ve saved Naruto from the bomb blast even if he was standing a mile away.

So, if these delusions reflects the mindset of the majority of the women audience, then the creator will never try to give anything better but instead give us some low-life characters like Sakura and Hinata.

So, Anon, your expectation for Hinata’s character could’ve been developed much better is just a wishful thinking. Because, Hinata is a character for these kind of people and not for us. And the author deliberately did it.

She was in the best position to help and understand Neji but what did she do? A lot of fans like her character because she is reserved but kind and sympathetic. She is reserved but a coward. She was not kind towards Neji. He died for her when he didn't deserve to, he had dreams and goals that were much bigger than Hinata's entire existence. She couldn't even see her own cousin's pain and she claims to understand Naruto?? Really??

For me, this also irked me a lot.

Hinata could’ve tried to talk to Neji about his problems even when he was a child. But she was simply playing innocent when in reality, she is just a coward. Even after the Chunin Exams, there was no apologies from her side, like you said. Because she is from the Main Branch. That hierarchy never changed. If she had the gall, she could’ve easily broken that hierarchy by saying, ‘I want Neji Nii-San to take over our Clan, He is the best candidate for this and I can gladly help him with all my efforts’. A single line and just 2 or 3 panels, it all takes.

For me killing Neji is where Kishi asking us silently,

Do you really want these pair to happen despite having a blood stain of another character???

Most people said, ‘Yes!!!’, because they don’t give two shits about Neji. As long as Hinata gets Naruto, the main character’s Duck, that’s all there is to it. It doesn’t matter who dies, who lives.

That's why Kishi is shitting on them by making her as a non-existent woman in the Boruto Manga.

Even in real life, there are many hopeless foolish little girls who would do anything for the man she loves. I've seen them and I always stay 2 miles away from them. I mean, they even ditch their own friends and spends her entire time with him and when he dumps her later, she will come back to her friends for consolation. I think Sansa Stark is the best example for this. She started out much similar to Sakura and Hinata, believing in Princes and shit, she even naively betrayed her father for the man she had crush on. But the author made her to learn her lesson in a much painful way and later she came out as a Queen who no longer needed any man at the end. I think, this is called Development.

At the end of the day, Romance and Sex is all that matters. The author knew it. So, he is feeding these girls with some low quality cookies and they are very glad to take and eat it.

#ask #anti naruhina #anti hinata #anti sakura #anti sasusaku #anti nh #anti ss #naruto analysis #sasunaru #sasunarusasu #sns #antisasusaku #antiss #antisakura

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

Text

Better Than Sex

Author: SisterSpooky1013

Rating: Teen and up

Words: 1666

Tagging: @today-in-fic

Read it on AO3

“Better Than Sex Cake” Mulder read aloud from the menu before looking across the table at Scully with his eyebrows raised in question.

They had just concluded an evening traipsing through an (alleged) actual ghost town, though no signs of ghosts were to be seen. Just a lot of graffiti, dirty mattresses and a used condom or two. Now they were sitting at the first diner they came across, Mo’s Café, and Mulder was considering the sex cake.

“Knock yourself out, Mulder, I’m sticking to coffee.”

“You aren’t curious as to whether this cake is, in fact, better than sex?”

“Well I’m sure it’s better than bad sex, but if it were better than great sex the population would die out because everyone would skip procreating and just eat cake.”

Mulder considered her statement. “Isn’t ‘bad sex’ somewhat of an oxymoron?”

She gave him an incredulous look. “Are you being serious?”

Now it was his turn to look incredulous. “The only bad sex is no sex, as far as I’m concerned.”

Scully shook her head ruefully. “Must be nice to be a man.”

Just then the waitress came by to take their order. Scully requested coffee and dry toast, while Mulder opted for coffee and the aforementioned sex cake. After she collected their menus and retreated to the kitchen, Mulder eyed Scully appraisingly, gaging her mood. Sometimes she was open and willing to talk about things of a personal or private nature, other times she kept her lips as tight as a steel trap. He suspected he might have a chatty Scully on his hands, and didn’t want to waste the opportunity.

“So, if I’m understanding correctly, Scully, there would be a circumstance under which you would choose a piece of cake over sex?”

She screwed up her mouth a little, not in consideration of how to answer the question, but whether to answer it at all. “Depends who the sex is with, I suppose, but yes, I could think of a few times where cake would have been a more enjoyable option.”

“Hm” was his only reply as he sat back against the seat of the booth, absorbing this information.

“Are you saying you’ve never had sex that was subpar enough that cake would have been better?”

He pulled in a deep breath and looked to the ceiling briefly, and she could imagine him running through his mental file of sexual encounters. “I don’t think so, no.”

“Is it wrong that I feel compelled to kick you right now?” She asked, just a hint of playfulness in her voice.

He laughed.“I’m not saying that every single time was Oscar-worthy, but even the worst was still better than some flour and butter.”

“And they say male privilege isn’t real” she deadpanned as the waitress came by to present them with two coffees, cake, toast and a tray of sugar and cream. She mixed the accoutrements into her cup while Mulder sipped his black, followed by a bite of the cake, which looked like a basic white cake with some kind of custard and whipped cream on top.

“This is pretty good, though I can’t say it lives up to its name” he said around the food in his mouth, pushing the plate towards her and holding out the fork suggestively. She took it and stabbed a small bite, meeting Mulder’s eye as she pulled the tines from between her lips. It was good, as most cake is, but nothing to write home about.

“Well?” He asked expectantly.

“Well what? She returned, wiping her finger at the corners of her mouth.

“Is it better than sex?”

She paused before answering, knowing that Mulder was going to keep picking at this until it got uncomfortable. He liked to do that, to see how far he could get her to go before she blushed and demanded they change the subject. He took immense pleasure in making her squirm, and even more in getting her to reveal something personal that he normally wouldn’t be privy to. Sometimes, she had as much fun indulging him as he did in goading her. She wasn’t above sharing something that she knew would shock him, just so she could see the look on his face. She liked that she could still surprise him.

“Not better than all sex, but certainly better than some of the sex I’ve had, regrettably.”

“What would make sex so bad that cake is better? I must know.”

“I think you can use your imagination, Mulder.”

“Come on, Scully, you could be saving some poor woman from ‘worse than cake’ sex with me in the future. Consider it an act of charity.”

She shook her head at him, but couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at her lips.

“Your answer lies in that drawer full of tapes that aren’t yours, Mulder.”

“How’s that?”

“Let’s see, sex starts when the man presents his erection and ends when he ejaculates. The woman howls like an animal no matter what he’s doing, though her orgasm is never mentioned. There is no foreplay. Would you like me to continue?”

He swallowed a mouthful of coffee he’d been holding, afraid he might choke. He’d never heard her speak so openly about sex before, especially not sex she had personally experienced, and though he’d been the one who initiated the conversation he was suddenly afraid he was going to have to walk out of this diner trying to hide a bulge in his slacks.

“Fair enough, Scully, but porn isn’t real. It’s like an action movie. No one actually hangs off the skids of a helicopter mid-air, it’s just fun to watch.”

“I’m glad to hear that you’re aware of that, Mulder, and I would implore you to spread the news to the rest of the male populace.” She punctuated her statement with a loud crunch into her toast.

Mulder’s mouth fell open slightly as he studied her, trying to tell if she was joking or embellishing.

“People really do that? Have sex like they do in porn? Men you’ve slept with?”

She rolled her eyes. “Mulder, if you’re going to sit here and tell me that you have never done that, even as a young man, I’ll have to call BS.”

He put his hands up in defense. “I’m not saying I emerged from puberty as Don Juan, but I don’t recall ever not being invested in my partner’s experience. I’m sure my skills were lacking at the outset, but I always tried.”

She looked at him derisively from under her eyelashes. “Well then, you really should get out there more, Mulder. Share your gift with the world.” Her voice was laden with sarcasm.

He laughed and ran his hand over the back of his neck. “How am I coming out to be the bad guy, here Scully? I’m not the one who gave you a ‘worse than cake’ lay.”

She smiled at him but her tone remained facetious “of course not, you’ve demonstrated that your skills in this area are unparalleled.”

“Damn straight!” He said with a slap of his palm on the table, and they both erupted into laughter.

They held eye contact as the laughter subsided, awkwardness descending over the conversation. He had made reference to the two of them having sex, which was a topic he’d only made innuendo about, never mentioned directly. Trying to break the tension, Scully finally spoke.

“Well, I guess you can see why I don’t bother dating.”

“I guess I can” he replied, swiping the last crumbs of cake off the plate with his finger.

“Why don’t you date, Mulder?” His expression registered surprise. “Or do you? I don’t want to be presumptuous.” She felt a pit in her belly at the idea that he may actually have a secret love life.

“No” he spat out, chuckling a little. “No, I definitely don’t date. It’s just too complicated I guess. I’m kind of a serial monogamist anyway.”

“Really?” Now it was her turn to be surprised.

“Yeah, for the most part. I’ve had a couple flings, but the vast majority of the women I’ve slept with I was in a relationship with. The emotional aspect is important for me.”

She studied him, imagining a version of Mulder who would be so considerate and giving. She didn’t need to imagine it, really, she’d seen it. While he was capable of being selfish and obtuse, he had also been incredibly tender and caring with her on many occasions. He had certainly shown a proclivity towards chivalry; opening doors for her, walking closer to traffic on the sidewalk, helping her into her coat or holding an umbrella for her. The idea that such gestures would extend into the bedroom was logical, but it still set off a stirring in her belly. In what other ways might he be so attentive to her needs? She swallowed the last of her coffee and tried not to think about it. Maybe later, but not here. Not now.

“Well, I hate to state the obvious here, Scully, but I don’t think you’re going to happen across the guy that will give you a 5-star experience if you never put yourself out there.” As soon as the words left his mouth he wanted to kick himself; why the fuck was he encouraging her sleeping with other people?

She smiled demurely and shrugged “for now I get my thrills from ghost busting and the occasional slice of really good cake.”

He bobbed his head and smiled back, pulling out his wallet and setting his bureau credit card on the tabletop.

In truth, she had already happened across that guy. He was sitting in front of her at a shitty diner in the middle of nowhere. And while she hoped that she may enjoy that 5 star experience in the future, for now just being in his presence, laughing and seeking the answers to the mysteries of the universe together, that was better than sex.

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #xf fanfic

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elriell · 3 years

Text

Thank you very much! I find it hard to cut them back and be less detailed to be honest. So let’s dive in to it, two quick points before we start;

There will be no hate here as every ship is valid, I simply going to explain why I believe Elriel is more likely to happen than Elucien. (IMO)

Secondly, if there’s one thing for certain with SJM it is that nothing is certain with her.

Of course like any reader I am nervous for what might happen but looking at it textually speaking I do not think we have much to worry about... Not to mention that if we look at SJM past behaviour we can extrapolate several things.

When Sarah falls in love with a character she is very willing to shift all plans to accommodate them, we have a good example of this with Rowan, once she began writing him she fell in love with him and Chaol was quickly pushed aside. I am sure she has done plenty of interviews saying as much from memory.

SJM Live

- Azriel has a lot of shit going on that we’re going to be able to see in this book.

- Azriel’s song is Mr. Brightside for the vibes. Not necessarily the lyrics. SJM is kinda obsessed with him and telling his story in the future.

- We’re getting to see more of Azriel’s cheeky humor in this one.

- SJM can’t wait to see theories after everyone reads Azriel’s pov. There’s a lot of crumbs that have been scattered around for his journey. [ref]

It is safe to say that in her own words Sarah is obsessed with Azriel, which gives us a good idea about who she wants to write about next. This is the same vibe we got off her when she was introducing Rowan to the TOG universe and I think it is a pretty easy assumption to believe the next book is Elain’s too.

Not to mention SJM is not afraid to shake it up and swap out the LI you think it will be, Chaol/Rowan & Tamlin/Rhysand. It is not far fetched to think she would do the same with Elain and Lucien. Not to mention the idea of such a repetitive story ARC like Mates (after Feysand and Nessian) could easily be avoided by doing something like a rejected-bond or second bond.

I really could not tell you what I think Azriel’s ARC/what he is dealing with is because we have so little information on him all I know is I cannot wait to read it all. He is easily one of my favourite characters, he is so mysterious to us.

I think Elain’s ARC is going to be all about choice. And we know from SJM that you can have more than one mate.

Elain said, her voice breaking. “It means nothing. I don’t care who decided it or why they did—”“You belong to him.”“I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.”

“to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

As far as I am concerned if you look at all SJM couples from all her books there is always that initial Spark™ and I think that impartially if you look at Elain and Lucien they have not had it at all (bar maybe the moment he scents the bond), Elain is completely disinterested in him. In the bond as a whole.

“if it wasn’t for Vassa.” A twitch of the lips, a spark in that russet eye. “She’s doing well enough. Savoring every second of her temporary freedom.”

Azriel mastered himself enough to say, “Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald.

See? SPARK, literally and figuratively.

You could even argue that she was you know, really struggling at the time the bond snapped in to place so it wasn’t the time for them but then we are given Azriel as a mirror to the situation and we see despite her troubles she is capable of interacting with someone without disinterest. Can and has been attracted too, can smile and laugh with someone despite being upset over Graysen.

Examples;

“You’re welcome to stay for the night,” I said, since Elain certainly wasn’t going to. Lucien lowered his hands into his lap and leaned back in the armchair. “Thank you, but I have other plans.” I prayed he didn’t catch the slightly relieved glimmer on Elain’s face.”

“Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?” But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm.

“And do what?” “Spend time with her.” “I don’t think she’ll tolerate two minutes alone with me, so forget about two weeks.” His jaw worked as he studied the fire.”

Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports—likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City—the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it.

“You as well.” A sidelong glance toward Elain, swift and fleeting. “Both of you.” Elain said nothing, but at least she bowed her head in thanks.”

Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea, but I sent him a silent prayer of thanks for his kindness before Rhys and I slipped upstairs.

“There were only a few presents left—Lucien’s. [...] I handed Elain the small box with her name on it. Her smile faded as she opened it. “Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.”

“He cares for you.” “He doesn’t know me.”

“You don’t give him the chance to even try to do so.” Her mouth tightened, the only sign of anger in her graceful countenance. “I don’t want a mate. I don’t want a male.”

“You are his mate. Do you even know what that means?” “It means nothing,” Elain said, her voice breaking. “It means nothing. I don’t care who decided it or why they did—”“You belong to him.”“I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.”

Again like I said, textually when we look at it all together Sarah is not exactly planting the seeds for them at all, now of course there is still time for that to change, and of course we only have a limited perspective but as a reader it doesn’t come across positively. Even if you consider Nessian who have been against each other from the start have had the seeds planted, even as they argued they had tension and emotion.

Sarah has given Elucien so little of anything positive or negative comparitively, it is like the are barely registered.

Not to mention she puts across Azriel as a candidate time and time again, and as a writer you would not do that for nothing.

“She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien.

“You know them better than I do. But I will say that Lucien is loyal—fiercely so.” “So is Azriel.”

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” “I’d keep that question from Lucien.” “I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?”

“What if”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

SJM is sowing doubt at every turn. Then to top it off we are introduced to Vassa through Lucien, and now we finally see him have a spark, blush, and speak of her with almost worship as Feyre points out.

“I …” Lucien fumbled for the words. Not out of some lie or excuse, I realized a moment later. Realized when he said, “I’ve been at the Spring Court every now and then. But if I’m not here in Velaris, I’ve mostly been staying with Jurian. And Vassa.”

“Not for long—not if Vassa has anything to do with it.” “You sound like an acolyte.”

Lucien blushed, glancing at Elain. “She’s got a foul temper and a fouler mouth.”

Now, I can understand the belief that Elucien could be endgame but you simply cannot deny that before that Elriel & LucienxVassa is going to have to be explored to a degree.

“Az ran a hand through his dark hair. “Are we …”Unusual for him to stumble with words. “Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?”

We also see both couples paralleled. I mean in all honesty I could go on and on and on, there is so many qoutes that I could add but this will just get longer and longer. I am going to link my full Elriel Analysis, and some other stuff about them and rejecting the bond below.

As for our fox boy Lucien!

I really like him, and I do feel like he has a very interesting journey ahead, between his true paternity, Vassa and the mating bond he has a lot coming up for him. I am excited to see where the band of exhiles might take us, despite Feyre’s mockery I am excited that after so long of not belonging anywhere he may have found people to call his own.

Look if Elucien happens after a genuine build up, I will be happy to read their journey, of course I will be very disappointed for Elriel because I truly believe they are the best fit but I am not against Elucien if anything I think Sarah is, more than anyone else.

Like I said I could go on for years, and honestly in 9 days hopefully we have a better idea of the future to base our opinions on.

I am tagging this Anti-Elucien, not that I feel it is but I don’t want Elucien shippers to have to see it, so if they blacklist the tag the can avoid the negativity ❤︎

[Elriel Meta] [Elriel Kindred Spirits] [Elriel Choice 1 & 2] [Garden] [Thoughts]

#elriel #acofs #acotar #elain archeron #azriel #elriel discussion #anti elucien #a court of wings and ruin #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #meta #elriel meta #anti-elucien

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lactosefreevanillayoghurt · 3 years

Text

You Don’t Need To Prove Yourself To Us

yes this is a checkateva fic and yes it is for @aveasorae

hurt/comfort, a lot of fluff and also some nachos (1600 and something words)

"What do you want to do when you grow up?" Kate was sprawled on Chess' bed, legs resting upright against the wall, head digging into Eva's hip.

Eva didn't look up from her laptop. "Teaching."

Kate flung her arms up, smacking their girlfriend in the chest with one hand, almost dislocating Chess' nose with the other. "You're so boring."

"Ow."

"Soz, Checkers, love you really."

"Yeah, yeah, absolutely." Chess pawed at their nose, surprised that Eva hadn't reacted to being literally punched in the boob, jesus christ since when had Kate been so strong? "Also, Eva's not boring, she's just got her shit together better than you do."

"I've got my shit together! Anyway, that wasn't the point, I didn't mean, like, jobs, I meant just things you want to do when we grow up."

"...That is jobs." Chess took one of Kate's flailing hands and pinched her index finger. They told themselves it was to piss Kate off and not to save their nose from another sneak attack.

"Fuck you, you knew what I meant."

"Sure, Kitkat." They let their partner's hand go, regretting it when Kate immediately started picking at the week-old nail varnish on it, black flakes decorating their bed. Eva hadn't moved or even acknowledged the conversation going on around her and Chess placed a quiet hand on her knee. They knew that both them and Kate worried about Eva, though Kate worried about everything so maybe that was a bad example. Still, they knew the other girl perhaps didn't have her shit together as well as they teased.

"Why would you even want to go into teaching though?" Kate's heels thudded against the wall and, as happened every time they met at their house, Chess began to regret letting Kate anywhere near their nice neat room. "I mean, I find it hard to deal with one of me, I wouldn't want a whole class to have to actually teach."

"Eva's good at that, everyone likes her."

"Yeah, 'cause she's an angel," Kate shuffled herself around and wrapped their arms around Eva's waist, her voice now muffled by fabric, "And we love her."

Eva smiled, one hand ceasing typing to brush over Kate's head before returning to her work. Chess rubbed their thumb over her knee, "I think someone," They nudged Kate, "Is getting bored. We should stop for now."

Kate was overly willing to sit up and pack away their books, neatly closing and then rearranging her folders. Chess always marvelled and how someone could be such a chaotic mess but then become so neat when it came to school work. They themselves were a little more haphazard, throwing their books in a pile beside their backpack before getting up and stretching. Kate kissed Eva's shoulder, sent affectionate fingerguns to Chess and walked over to the door, running a hand through their hair as they did so. She paused, one hand on the doorframe, "I want chips. I'll bring a pack up, do either of you want anything?"

Chess shook their head, "I'm all good." They locked eyes with their partner, both raising an eyebrow in sync and then gesturing back to their girlfriend.

Kate bit her lip and nodded, "I'll get a banana as well, okay Aves?"

Eva nodded vaguely and then the door was shut and Kate was gone.

Chess heaved a sigh, wandering over to where Eva was still sat typing on the bed. They ran a hand through the girl's hair, planting a kiss on the top of her head. "Maybe it's time to take a break, V."

Eva shook her head fervently, her fingers only pausing for a second. Chess crouched in front of her, reaching around the laptop to hold her hands. They looked at their girlfriend, properly looked, noticing all the details that got mixed up to create Eva Sanchez. She looked tired, more than anything, and it hurt a little to see someone that they loved so much become so overwhelmed. Her eyes were soft and unfocused, hands cold where they held Chess'. Slowly, so slowly, Chess let go of her hands and pulled the laptop off her lap, saving her work before closing it. They sat cross-legged on the floor, head resting on Eva's knees. "What's going on up there?"

Eva shrugged, nudging Chess backwards with one socked foot and sliding off the bed to sit opposite them on the floor. "Dunno."

Chess hummed and smiled. "I agree with Kate, you know. You're boring because you work too hard."

Eva huffed out a laugh. "I have a lot to do," she protested weakly.

"Yeah, I know." They shuffled around and pulled the other girl close, rubbing one hand in stars over her back.

"And if I don't do it all, I'll fall behind." Chess felt Eva's lips mumble against their collarbone, whispering words they knew that she struggled to admit even to herself. "Chess, I'm scared. I don't want to fall behind because I'll lose the scholarship and I'll lose you and that would fucking suck. And- and I feel bad when I'm not busy all the time, because," She paused, voice hoarse around the edges, pressing closer to Chess. The door opened and Kate slipped in, a bag of chips under one arm, a banana in one hand and three cans of ginger beer balanced precariously in the other. Chess smiled over Eva's head, watching as Kate took in the situation. They placed the snacks down and padded over to the others, sitting down and taking one of Eva's hands to stop her from picking at the hem of Kate's flannel that she'd somehow ended up wearing. Eva continued, "Because if I'm not working or cheering or anything then what am I? Like, I'm not worthy if I can't prove myself, right?"

Chess' heart broke at those words and they held Eva impossibly tighter, kissing her temple. "Oh god, Eva, no." They noticed how both of their partners' hands shook as they held onto each other and pulled themselves together a little. "V, sweet thing, firstly, you never have to worry about us leaving you because we love you because of who you are and not because of your grades or your cheer ability or any of that. We're so proud of you for it, but we love you, not a report card."

Eva nodded hesitantly. Chess brushed the hair away from her face, hand lingering a second on her forehead, taking in the subtle warmth, all whilst looking as sincerely as they could into her eyes.

"You don't need to prove yourself either." Kate drew their attention. "You're wonderful the way you are and, like, even though sometimes it doesn't feel like it, you don't need to push yourself to this point, because you will always be good enough because you're you." She paused. "I don't think that made sense, I think I tried too hard to sound as eloquent as Checkers."

Chess laughed and Eva did too. Kate blushed, hiding their face in Eva's hands. "I mean, you tried, Kitkat."

Eva cackled, "Yeah, A+ for effort."

"Hey! The sentiment's still there, though!"

Laughter dimming, Eva nodded. "Of course. I love you and your confusing monologues."

Chess grinned at the two of them, Kate giving Eva a look of pure adoration before flying into her arms. They fell backwards against the carpet as Kate leapt on the two of them, teasing a mutual, "Oof," from all three.

"What the fuck!! What the fuck is this!!" Kate clung to them in her preferred koala pose. "You can't say that to me!! I am but a hopeless gay and now you have made me flustered!!!!! Illegal!!! How dare you!"

Chess laughed, the kind of laugh that makes you feel like you're filled up with bubbles, all bright and clear. On top of them, Eva yawned, pushing her head into Kate's elbow with a catlike whimper. Kate looked alarmed suddenly, rolling off the other two to lie flat on their back, legs instinctively hooking themselves up and onto the bed covers. "Aves, you okay? Chess, she's warm, is she-"

Placing a newly-freed arm onto their partner's stomach, they cut her off before she could spiral any further, "She'll be fine, she's just a dumbass," Chess lowered their voice, creating brackets with their hands, "(Affectionately), and has overworked herself."

"I am still here."

"Shhhpsspshspshpspshp," Kate placed a hand over Eva's mouth. "We look after you now."

Chess nodded and pulled the other two with them back onto their bed. Eva curled up with her head on their chest, fingers jittering, still tapping out letters into their side. They took her hands and lifted them to their lips. "Love you too."

The bed dipped as Kate returned from a trip across the room, a huge packet of nachos in her hand. Chess once again fondly regretted letting them in their room - first nail varnish, then crumbs, what would be next? "I cannot believe you."

"What?!"

"V was literally about to go to sleep but no, you ruined it with your bloody crunching."

Kate paused mid-crunch. "Oopth-"

Eva giggled between the two, reaching a hand into Kate's bag of chips.

Kate looked practically jubilant. "HA! See, she's actually eating, it was a good thing after all."

"I cannot believe I'm being betrayed by my own two significant others."

Kate grinned, "Love you!!!"

Eva shuffled closer, shutting her eyes, "Yeah, we love you."

Chess stole the bag out of Kate's hand, "If you love me that much, you'll give me some nachos."

"Fuck you. This is gay sabotage." But Kate was still grinning, and Eva's warm little body was shaking with silent laughter and Chess allowed themselves to forgive Kate for the crumbs in the bed. Just this once.

#we are the tigers #chess watt #kate watt #eva watt #eva sanchez #kate dalton #chess belmont #checkateva #my writing #swearing tw #um??#sadness tw??????#oops this was meant to be cute and then got angsty #AAA I HAVE TO GO APOLOGIES I WILL COME BACK AND EDIT THIS LATER IM SORRY IF ITS BAD #food mention #ellie writes sometimes

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vin-taege · 4 years

Text

low expectations | 3

summary: after disappearing for six years to pursue law, you come back to Seoul, only to be hired by Jeon Jungkook, tattoo artist on the rise, and your high school ex

genre: angst, eventual smut, l2e2l (lovers to enemies [kinda?] to lovers)

pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x lawyer!reader

words: 3k+

note: i am back

"Mmm holy shit, I missed bread," You stared at Taehyung, who was shamelessly stuffing croissant after croissant in his face. Jimin sipped his latte awkwardly. Jungkook was back in his usual reserved state, silent, though visibly disturbed by Taehyung's lack of table etiquette. The whole table was captivated by the tattoo artist's seemingly never ending appetite, and at this point, Jungkook began to regret letting him borrow his credit card. Namjoon was first to break the silence.

"So," he cleared his throat. "We came up with a list of possible suspects. The cocaine packet we found was already sent to a facility for DNA testing.”

"It's not exactly a list. More like one person," you got the case file out your bag. What back then was a thin folder filled with a singular page was now filled with paperclips and slightly dishevelled pages - the fruit of your research with Namjoon. You took the picture you printed out of the Gwangju rapper and put it beside a recent picture of Jung. "Don't these two conveniently look alike?"

Jungkook leaned in to get a closer look, eyes straining to grasp any familiar features he could pick up from the low quality print. Suddenly, Yoongi jolted up, snatching the picture from the table. "How did you get this?"

"You know him?"

"Yeah, it's Hoseok. He went under the name 'J-Hope' back then until he just disappeared."

Taehyung hacked back a cough, a huge chunk of bread lodging itself in his throat. Jimin thumped him worriedly on the back, waving the rest of you off to ignore them. You continued questioning Yoongi." Joon, write this down. Can you elaborate on that?"

"I went against him back then Gyeongsangnam."

"He sucked ass."

"No, I mean, what happened after? Did you notice anything interesting about him? Something out of place?"

"Oh, well... From what I recall, he does look awfully a lot like Minho. Almost the same person. It's weird because they have the same last name too."

Namjoon shared a wary look with you. "Changing identities is very common for people in the illegal drugs industry. I'll get someone from the firm to run a background check on him."

You nodded. "Anything else?"

"I remember the police coming to raid the place. You know how there are some underground rapping contests? Ours was really underground. No ads, only word of mouth. You have to know someone there to get in. So we knew someone must've fucked up real bad for the police to get involved."

That's why you couldn't find any musical records or history on him. Namjoon was typing away at his laptop, seemingly getting the same idea.

"To be fair, nothing we did was illegal. The competition, the prize money, all legal. But that wasn't the problem. The problem was they caught Hoseok possessing marijuana. They shut everything down and took him with them. Never seen him ever since."

Everyone went silent again - even Taehyung ceased his coughing. Namjoon finished typing, readjusting his glasses." What year did that happen?"

"Somewhere in 2013. I think it was in April?"

"You mean to say," Jimin spoke up. "This Hoseok guy coincidentally disappeared six months before Soliloqy opened?”

Your jaw dropped, Namjoon mirroring your shocked expression. The tattoo artists looked at you in confusion, not getting what the big fuss was about. You lightly backhanded Namjoon on the chest, “Our theory’s plausible.”

“What theory?” Jungkook cut in. He wasn’t too worried about the case at first, but now that there were mentions of underground drug deals, he felt a bigger threat lurking around in the shadows. He just wants to be left alone - doesn’t want to lose the shop he risked everything for.

“Hoseok and Minho are the same guy. We don’t have enough evidence to prove this, but we’ll continue to dig into it. The drugs, the blurry photos, Minho rarely seen outside and when he is, he’s always wearing a mask - these all scream fishy to me,” you paused to slide the pictures back into the folder, returning it into your bag.

Taehyung slurped noisily on his iced tea. “This is some Scoobydoo shit.” He tapped his fork on his plate, confused to be met with the clinking of silverware. Bread crumbs and smears of strawberry jam greeted him, making him pout. Tugging Jungkook’s sleeve, he pointed his fork at his empty plate. “I’m all out.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jungkook rolled his eyes. He dug his credit card out his wallet for the nth time and placed it on Taehyung’s side. The older boy looked expectantly at him. “Well?”

“Can’t you buy it for me?”

“Oh my god-”

“I’ll buy it for you,” you smiled endearingly at Taehyung. He grinned back at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Jungkook stilled, an unreadable expression on his face. Without waiting for him to respond, you stood up, leaving the table and stood in line at the counter.

To your surprise, Jungkook followed after you, taking his place behind you in line. “You don’t have to. He’s already spent over 30 000 won on pastries, and it’s only been two hours.”

“Oh come on, you’re acting as if we weren’t close back in high school,” you froze, realizing how wrong your words might have sounded. Back then, you could read him like an open book. Knew exactly what would set him up, where his boundaries were. But now, it was like walking on eggshells around him.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, cheeks pink. “Maybe I should cut you some slack,” he said more to himself than to you.

"Yeah," you mimicked him. "Maybe you should."

"Seriously. I appreciate it. I appreciate you taking the case even after what happened between us back then," But the thing is, you didn't know it was him in the first place. It was unfair for him to think so highly of you. You knew you didn't deserve his kind words. Jungkook didn't change a bit - he was still shit at holding grudges.

°°°

6 years ago

"Where are you?" Jungkook sobbed into the phone. Taehyung peered at him worriedly from the living room. The walls of his small dorm were thin, and Jungkook's side of the conversation was enough for him to piece together what you two were arguing about. "You promised."

"Tell her I'll come with you," he said, after a minute of silence. "I'll even work for her. I'll take the job offer she gave me. Please don't leave me."

He was so close to tearing his hair out. It's been a week since he last talked to you - you've been ignoring his calls and texts, Taehyung didn't know where you were, or if he did, he wasn't telling, and even your father hadn't been responding to him. And now you finally emerge from wherever the hell you've hidden in, telling him you were set to go to college in the States.

"The job offer's gone, Kook. You're too late. My mom already booked the ticket, paid for my tuition. I can't turn back now," You were packing your bags back in Daegu. Taehyung's family was nice enough to let you stay for a few days until you were ready to go. Taehyung, along with your father, had explained your situation to them, and they were more than willing to help - though hesitant at first since they were also close to Jungkook.

"Why are you hiding from me? Just tell me where you are. At least talk to me properly, please ___," He kept walking in circles around the room, thinking of anything he could do. He felt so utterly helpless, sick to his stomach. "Please."

"At least tell me where you are!" He shouted into the phone. His mind was in a frenzy. Taking his wallet, he paid Taehyung no attention and ran out of the apartment, wearing only a t-shirt and jeans to protect him from the cold.

Taehyung ran after him, stopping him just before he could get into the subway. His phone was still in his hands, though you had already stopped talking on the other line. You brought the phone speaker away from your mouth, trying your best to muffle your sobs. He was still on the other and, yelling, pleading, begging to know where you were. At the back of your mind, your mother's words still echoed.

"You have no future with him, ___. He has nothing. No proper ambitions, no practicality, no sense of reality. He is weighing you down. If he wants to waste his potential, then that's on him. But he is not going to do the same to my daughter."

Taehyung was holding him back, trying to convince him to go back to his dorm. In the end, he dragged Jungkook back into the warmth of his room. The call was still ongoing, both ends of the line going silent until you finally ended it - along with your two-year relationship.

°°°

"So we're friends again?" you gave him a lopsided grin, offering your hand out to him. Guilt squeezed your heart.

"Yeah," he looked away for a moment, pretending to be interested in the menu. He brought his hands together, twiddling his thumbs, before murmuring. "I missed you, ___."

When you came back, Taehyung kept staring at you, a suggestive smile on his face. You brushed him off, praying Jungkook didn't notice it too. The older boy traded - rather, forced to trade - seats with Namjoon, in favor of sitting next to you. A fresh plate of pastries sat in front of him, though his interest was on you alone.

"I see you and Jungkookie are finally getting along," he whispered the moment Jungkook was distracted by Namjoon's relentless questioning.

You rolled your eyes, elbowing him. "We're back to being friends. I'm just glad things aren't that awkward anymore."

"Took you a while to get off your high horse," he muttered, though his tone was playful. You still didn't get how he seemingly manages to brush everything under the rug.

°°°

6 years ago

"___, you're hurting him," Taehyung hissed, keeping his voice low to not wake Jungkook up. He took a cautious glance around the place, sensing the younger boy was still asleep. "I didn't sign up for this. You told me you were only going away for four years. Why the fuck aren't you coming back?"

"I will come back," It was midnight. You were supposed to be sleeping. Instead, you were standing in the middle of the Kims' strawberry farm. Everything reminded you of Jungkook - his love for strawberries, his fascination with nature. Above you, the moon gazed upon the earth, accompanied by millions of blinking stars. And somewhere under that same moon, was the boyfriend you neglected.

"I just need a few years. Law school is not that easy, Tae. And I just can't go straight back there after I graduate. I need to work, I need to at least make a name for myself."

"I understand you don't want to disappoint your parents. I really do. What did you think I felt knowing my brother and my sister were aiming to be an engineer and a doctor, while I was going to take on a fucking arts course?" he took a deep breathe, forcing himself to calm down. "I know Jungkook doesn't have the most conventional dream out there, but at least explain everything to him. I can't see him hurting anymore."

"I did explain everything. "

"Telling him you were going abroad after ignoring him for one whole week isn't explaining, ___!"

"He won't understand! I'm only going to hurt him more," you ran a hand through your hair, the knotted mess getting pushed back. "I'll call him again by the time I'm in America."

"You better. I know I helped you because you were my friend, but he's my friend too. He's my best friend. And let me tell you, he is feeling depressed, ___. Your boyfriend is hurting because of you. At least be aware of that," Without another word, Taehyung ended the call.

You stared at the endless fields of strawberries and trees in front of you. Some of the leaves were already starting to brown in preparation for autumn. Not that you'll still be in Korea by the time it comes.

°°°

"So, what made you change your mind about her?” Taehyung was hunched over the arcade game, eyes stuck on whichever character he was beating to a pulp. The three of them were closing up shop. Jimin was still tidying up the customer lounge, while Jungkook and Taehyung waited for him in the employee room. Jungkook was on the other side, concentrating on designing a tattoo commission.

“What do you mean?” he didn’t spare the older boy a glance. He was getting frustrated with this particular design. He had already gone through half a stack of paper just trying to get it right, and none of the sketches he has done so far looked right.

“I mean-” he paused, letting out a grunt when he lost a round. “The first time you saw her again, you wouldn’t even talk to her. And before that, you wouldn’t even talk about her.”

“She’s our lawyer now. Of course I have to talk to her.”

“No, what I’m saying is- ah shit!” he slammed his hand onto the side of the machine. “Why the fuck won’t I jump? What the fuck?!”

“As I was saying,” he continued after putting in another token. “Yeah, she’s our lawyer and we have to be cooperative for obvious reasons. But I don’t know, you were different at the cafe. First of all, you bought me some food - which you never do.”

“Rarely do,” Jungkook corrected, pencil continuing to scrape on the paper.

“Same thing. And you were giving her all these soft looks. Like a puppy or something.”

“I was?” Jungkook’s eyes widened, abruptly halting his sketching process. Taehyung had his full attention now. “Was I really, Tae? Honestly? If I was, do you think she noticed?”

“Maybe. I dunno. She looked really focused on the evidence folder and shit. But yeah, anyone could tell you missed her just by seeing the way you look at her. It’s kinda like the way you used to look at her back when you two were...” Taehyung never finished the sentence. Instead, the sound effects from the arcade game filled the room. Taehyung knew just how far he could touch that area, and not once did he cross the line; he still didn’t know if it was safe or not.

“You can’t keep hating her forever.”

“I don’t hate her.”

“Well then, you can’t keep holding a grudge against her. I know what she did to you was utterly hurtful. I was there to witness shit hitting the fan. But you know, you’re bad at holding grudges. Especially against someone who was a big part of your life. I’m not saying you still love her. I’m just saying, you can’t...” After what felt like an eternity, Taehyng pulled out a chair and sat beside him. “You can’t pretend like you’re not getting affected by any of this. You get me?”

The older boy sighed, grabbing Jungkook by the wrist to stop him from sketching. “If you stopped living in total denial, you would realize that you’ve stopped designing the tattoo, and instead, have been sketching her for the past 15 minutes.”

Jungkook straightened up in his chair, getting a better look at the paper. There, in fact, was a messy, but distinguishable sketch of your face. Before he could react, a brown paper bag was plopped onto the papers.

“I re-heated some grilled cheese and double-locked the back door. We’re good to go,” Jimin leaned one of the chairs next to Jungkook. He bunched up the papers and shoved them into his bag before Jimin could see.

“We’re good to go,” he repeated.

The night was cold. There were only a few people in the streets, illuminated by the scattered lamp lights. The streets were damp - they didn’t even notice it rained. They walked in silence, both boys sensing the younger one’s dread. Not because he hated you, but because he didn’t know what to feel anymore.

“It’s gonna be okay kid,” Jimin wrapped an inked arm around him. “You just need some closure, that’s all. Talk to her and see how it goes. If it turns out good, then it’s good. If it turns out bad, I have a friend over at the Naughty Bunny who can get us inside without having to wait in line.”

Jungkook chuckled, thinking about all the times Jimin came to work with a pounding headache and love bites all over his neck. He shook his head, “Thanks for the offer hyung, but I have to pass. ___ might call for an emergency meeting and-”

He stopped abruptly, making the boys halt. Taehyung made a move to speak, but Jungkook waved him off, signalling for him to keep quiet. The older boys looked at each other in confusion. In the distance, just beneath the shadows of an alley next to Soliloquy, a tall figure hunched in front of the brick wall, fumbling with something in his hands. It was too dark to see, but Jungkook was sure it was him.

Without warning, he bolted towards the man, Jimin and Taehyung running after him. The figure took a second before noticing him, but by the time he went to run, he was already cornered. Jungkook grabbed him by the collar, slamming him against the wall.

“Yah! Don’t run off like that you brat!” Jimin started scolding him. He didn’t even notice Taehyung tugging on his sleeve, muttering his name.

“Hyung. Hyung. Jimin. Jimin hyung. Jiminie.”

“What?” he asked, annoyed. Taehyung pointed at the boy in Jungkook’s hands, his eyes terrified, pupils blown out in such a way he knew he wasn’t sober. His hand hung limply, sluggishly trying to get Jungkook off him. There was the man himself - their greatest rival. “Son of a bitch-”

“Yah, Jung Minho, ” Jungkook said. “We have to talk.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #bts #bts scenarios #bts smut #bangtan smut #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #bangtan scenarios #bts au

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alpha-bnha-boys · 5 years

Note

I feel like it would be cute to request a scenario for shinsou as a kid or 🍼 thank you so much!!!

A wonderful request my dear!! ヾ(*´∀｀*)ﾉ

AND BEFORE ANY OF YOU START WITH THAT:

“oH, sMuTsY jUsT dId A sHiNsOu rEqUeSt-” ヘ（。□°）ヘ

Yes, Yes I did. Don’t act like I didn’t give y’all full disclosure of my incurable and damn near crippling Shinsou-bias. ALSO I’m trying to post something here on Tumblr everyday, and this is the one I finished first because it was so hella cute and fun and I couldn’t help myself!

I’M SORRY I’M SUCH A HOE FOR THE EGGPLANT

・゜・(ノД`)

Am simple smutsy. I see Shinsou, I write... (´;ω;｀)

Honestly though, I’m sorry you guys... I’m gonna do more than just Shinsou, I promise.

I hope none of you are too upset with me, and that you will still be able to enjoy this little fluff piece! (*´･∀･)

But I meant what I said @negansnumberonewifie - this is a wonderful request, thank you so much! I loved writing it, and I hope you enjoy it too!

• Shinsou : 🍼 •

* No warnings! Pretty sure this one is like 99% SFW!

Except for language, but that’s a given...

However I did hold back this time. Note the lack of f-bombs.

I surprise even myself, sometimes.

Nearly all the heroes had been called to the inner district of the city; as a hoard of villains were wreaking havoc on the general public. You and Shinsou had been partnered up, and you used both of your quirks to take down as many villains as you could. By the time the battle was over, the heroes had triumphed and the villains were detained and escorted away from the scene.

Medical units were being called in by the dozen. One of the villains had a peculiar quirk that had left several civilians reverted to their child-like selves. Only a few had been affected, but the emergency response teams were doing their best to corral them up and comfort their panicked cries.

- - - - - - - - -

After a moment or so, you scanned the area, your face dawning with panic.

“W-Where’s Shinsou?!”

The other heroes heard your distress, their gazes shooting over to you.

Suddenly, you felt a small tug on your shirt.

Looking down, you saw a child, what appeared to be a five year old boy.

He had wild indigo hair, and clothes that were entirely too big for him, baggy on his small little frame…

‘Oh… Oh shit.’

“Sh-Shinsou?? Is that-??”

The little boy nodded, toddling closer to you as the other heroes dashed over with an emergency response team in tow.

You felt Shinsou nuzzle up against you, clinging to your leg shyly.

Your mind was dumbfounded.

‘Oh my God… he’s so cute…’

The medical units tried to coax him away from you, but he wouldn’t budge; silently shaking his head at every attempt to coerce him into their arms.

You knelt down to Shinsou’s eye-level, and he was quick to rush into your arms, wrapping his own around your neck and hiding his face in your shoulder.

“Shinsou, s-sweetheart, these people are trying to help you. They just want to take care of you until you go back to normal.”

“Nuh-uh.” He shook his head again, burying himself further into your neck, his little legs scrambling to wrap themselves around your waist.

“I wanna stay with Y/N.”

Kaminari was there, and he knelt down beside you, chiming in with a big smile on his face;

“Hey buddy! Don’t you wanna come hang out with your best pal Denki?”

Shinsou shook his head again.

“I wanna be with Y/N. I like Y/N.”

Denki smiled, scratching the back of his head.

“Aw don’t you like me too, buddy?”

Shinsou peeked out from your neck, looking Kaminari in the eyes with a pout.

“It’s diffwent.”

A blush creeped up your face, but you smiled softly, scooping the child up in your arms.

You patted the back of his head, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll look after him until the affects wear off, is that alright?”

The first responder scrambled for words, a little surprised you’d be willing to do such a thing,

“W-w-well sure! T-that’s fine, if you want to! The effects appear to only last 12 hours, so he’ll be back to normal by tomorrow morning!”

It was only a little past 1PM, so you decided to enjoy every minute you had with the Little Shinsou, utterly enchanted with his adorable disposition.

However, his lack of filter was an added bonus you had not anticipated.

After trading in his massive adult shoes for some kids’ shoes at a nearby store, you took him to the dessert parlor you were both regulars at.

Shinsou looked at the menu and shook his head.

“What’s wrong? You normally come here all the time, Shinsou.”

Shinsou crossed his arms, “Everything hewre is too sweet, I onwy come here because you’re always hewre getting tea.”

You made a mental note to start visiting another snack/beverage location, one that Shinsou might like too; as the child’s confession had made your heart flutter.

After grabbing pretzels from a nearby stand, you saw a sign for a petting zoo that was currently operating in the park, and asked Shinsou if he’d like to go.

Shinsou nodded his head vigorously, pretzel crumbs all along his mouth.

“Yes pwease! I wanna go to the petting zoo, pwease!”

As you made your way to the park, he wrapped his hand around your fingers, dragging you along behind him.

“Come on Y/N! Wet’s go!”

You giggled, reveling in his excitement as you approached the animal pens and bought a baggy of food for each.

Shinsou’s face grew worried for a moment, and he fiddled with his baggy clothes, reaching for something in his back pocket.

He pulled out his wallet, the leather bound pocketbook looking so large in his tiny hands.

“Hewre! I don’t want you to have to pay fowr it!”

You laughed, “Shinsou, I don’t mind! It’s my treat!”

Shinsou shook his head defiantly, a stern pout on his face.

“No Y/N, a gentwlmen is suppowsed to pay fowr his date.”

You blushed, bending down to give the child a kiss on the forehead.

“How about I take out the $6 for our tickets, okay?”

Before he could protest, the petting zoo worker opened the gate for the bunny pen, and Shinsou went rushing inside along with a few other children.

You opened his wallet, deciding to humor him and take out the $6 you had agreed upon.

Aside from usual wallet items; IDs, receipts, credit/debit cards and etc., the wallet was quite obviously Shinsou’s.

It had PetSmart member’s card, a punch-card from a coffee shop (2 punches away from a free coffee, by the way), a library card, a member’s card for a bicycle shop.

You couldn’t help but smile at it all.

You saw a photo poking out of a pouch in his wallet, the corner pointedly worn from use; curiosity getting the best of you, you pulled it out.

It was a 4 paneled photo the two of you. Its edges more worn than the pouch that held it.

You and the class went to the fair in your last year at UA, and you had all decided to go to a photo booth.

Once all the photos were done, everyone started leaving, but Shinsou said he accidentally put an extra token in the machine.

You happily offered to take some photos with him.

And he had… kept it… after all this time.

4 panels of the two of you; one of you giving each other rabbit ears, one of you making funny faces, another of you sticking your tongues out, and the last one- you surprising Shinsou with a kiss on the cheek, his face blooming with red.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a small voice calling out to you, “Come on Y/N! You gotta pet the bunnies!”

You slid the photo back into its pouch and tucked the wallet into your bag, deciding to hold onto it for safe keeping.

You knelt down beside Shinsou in the pen, watching with soft eyes as he gently petted one the rabbits, its nose crinkling and eyes closing happily at his gentle touch.

You saw the other children, hastily chasing around the rabbits as their parents scolded them.

Shinsou was so loving, so tender with the creature, easing his hand in front of it with food and smiling as it ate from his hand.

‘I bet he always was mature for his age.’

After the bunnies, you visited the goats, and you and Shinsou laughed at how goofy they were. Then the ducks, where Shinsou made a friend that decided to sit in his lap. Finally you visited the chickens, where Shinsou pointed out a particularly scraggly looking black one asleep in the corner, saying it looked like Aizawa.

After wiping the tears from your eyes from laughter, Shinsou grabbed your hand, yawning.

“Hey Y/N, can we take a nap? I’m getting sweepy.”

You smiled, scooping the child into your arms and letting him rest his head on your shoulder like he had earlier.

“Alright honey, let’s go back to my house; then we can take a nap. How does that sound?”

You arrived home, Shinsou having fallen asleep before you’d even left the park.

You laid him down gently on the loveseat in your living room, sliding a pillow under his head and tucking him in with a fuzzy blanket. You removed his scarf and brushed the hair out of his face, marveling at his angelic face as he slept.

‘I wonder if we ever had a baby- would they be this cute?’

You blushed at the thought, but decided you were in need of a nap too, getting yourself situated on the big couch beside him.

It wasn’t even 10 minutes after you’d closed your eyes before you felt a familiar tug at your shirt.

There was Shinsou, sleepy-eyed as ever and clutching the fuzz blanket in his arms.

“Can I sweep wif you?”

You smiled, scooting over as you made room for him.

“Sure, come here sweetheart.”

Turns out the petting zoo as well as the battle from earlier had worn both of you out.

You held the child in your arms, humming at the warmth from his tiny body. Not long after, you both fell asleep.

You awoke the next morning to a simultaneously awakening Shinsou groaning beneath you.

‘Beneath you? You had been the big spoon, what-?

Oh…

Oh shit.’

Shinsou had changed back overnight, and now you were laying on his chest, half-sprawled out on top of him.

You fought back the wince as his eyes fluttered open, realizing you had no time to retreat or feign ignorance.

You were about to have some serious explaining to do.

Dee End! ;3

xoxo, Mama Smutsy ヽ(｡• ω•｡)ﾉ

#BNHA scenarios #Shinsou Hitoshi BNHA scenarios #Shinsou Hitoshi Scenarios #Shinsou Hitoshi Imagines #Shinsou Hitoshi #Hitoshi Shinsou #BNHA boys #Shinsou Hitoshi Kid Version #BNHA kids #BNHA kid versions #BNHA SFW #BNHA fluff #Mama Smutsy #Smutsy #But writing BNHA kids makes me feel like Mother Goose #My transformation has begun

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bonniemansfieldd · 3 years

Text

My Pet Goblin Grief

I wouldn’t say I’m overly experienced in many things; baking - perhaps; exams maybe; tactical chundering - I’m pretty good; but grief? Me and her go way back.

Of course, everything is relative and I’m grateful to say that I’ve never lost someone as close as a parent or sibling but I definitely have had a bigger taste of the Grieving Life™ than most which is an odd feeling. A running joke we have is that I have one of those stamp loyalty cards to the local cemetery and now I’m only 1 off of my own free burial- wahoo!

Death-focussed conversations are a centerpiece in our house and the question “What do you want as your funeral song?” is as easily asked as “What is it you want for Christmas?” (For the record, mine’s Only One Who Knows by the Arctic Monkeys, Day N Nite the Crookers Remix by Kid Cudi and probably the Moulin Rouge version of Your Song - but the last one is still up for debate). I never realise these sorts of things are a bit odd or macabre until I ask the same questions to Ungrieved friends who always respond with the same notion of “why are you asking such morbid things” or “are you planning on killing me?” or “This isn't a fun birthday drinks convo.”

For context, my first experience with death was when my grandad died when I was 3, I have little memory of this other than my mum breaking the news to me when she was stark-naked, post-shower and drying her hair; a weird image in hindsight. My second and third were very close together and now feel fused in my brain; my mum was the eldest of three and within the space of 50 days her sister died due to alcoholism and her brother committed suicide due to depression and a psycho ex wife. Also my dog died a month or 2 later, rule of 3 and all that. At the age of 12 I was properly introduced to the beasts that are grief, depression and the aftermath of a suicide, none of them I would give good Yelp reviews tbh.

Nobody teaches you how to grieve. There is no handbook on ‘How to Navigate the Loss of a Loved One’, never mind one on ‘How to Deal With Traumatic Deaths Whilst Dealing with a Now Suicidal Mum Alongside All the Other Shit of Your Teenage Years’ (although there should be given its catchy title ) Now here’s where I made my first mistake when learning to live with these things - I just Kept Calm and Carried On like a fucking Dweeb. No major lash outs; no therapy, no rebellious phase (yet), no prolonged mourning period, no deep conversations with my parents on how i was feeling. I’d wake up, go to school and be a good little boffin, come home, ignore the fact mum had not gotten out of bed in 3 days or spoken in 30; do my homework, have my tea, go to bed, be awoken by the sounds of my mum blasting their funeral songs and scream bawling downstairs; put in my earphones and watch Flushed Away; cry a bit; eventually fall asleep; repeat.

Looking back now my chosen ignorance was ridiculous and really came back with a vengeance when I was 15 and my mum was back to relative normality. I started to face what I’d pushed down and I released all the pent up icky-gross-wtf-feeling via trying to fuck anyone I could, developing an eating disorder, fancying only the most wastemen of boys, binge drinking and thinking Morrissey was the pinnacle of God’s creation. I mean, it did the job in the end but FUCK ME it was the dumbest way to do it and ultimately caused a whole load of other problems in my wee noggin that I really didn’t need.

Thankfully (she says with sarcasm and one solo gunfinger), I got to perfect my craft at Grieving in 2020, aged 18, when another Auntie died unexpectedly of bowel cancer and then my childhood friend killed herself, aged 21, due to cripping BPD. I really mean it when I say I’m sick of people dying. This time round I’m really trying to do it the proper way and not suppress it for 3 years and get myself in a knot like last time, although what is the proper way to grieve? Since this is not my first rodeo I know what NOT to do but that’s all I got so far.

Now, I have a few key points I’m really trying to abide by, the first one being for the love of GOd put your own grief first. I now have deep rooted mummy issues which partly stem from trying to pick up the pieces of her grief whilst burying my own with Aardman Animations and wanky Morrissey lyrics. She didn’t support me, in all honesty not many in my family did (which is understandable!) cause everyone was trying to keep their own heads above water which ultimately I should’ve done too, but didn’t. Learning to say “I am in pain, I am grieving, I need to put myself first right now or else my future therapy sessions are going to be hella expensive” is really fucking hard, ESPECIALLY when everyone else is crumbing too. But it’s the whole air mask on a plane scenario where you cannot help anyone else until you’re breathing clear too.

My next point; some days you actually feel okay and you’re not the worst person ever for feeling like that. It’s the whole ball in a box grief analogy that I cba to explain but highly reccommend looking up. Grief doesn’t leave you, you just learn to live with it and it’s kinda as simple as that. Therefore, there will be days where you do manage it, maybe even forget it for a while. It becomes a feeling so ingrained into you, you don’t even notice it’s there and just get on with things. You’re not a terrible person for having a nice time with your mates if your Gran’s just died. You’re not the spawn of satan if you go out on the pull a few weeks after your mate’s topped themselves. Yeah, their lives have stopped but why the fuck should yours?

It’s a difficult moment, immediately after you lose somebody and venture out into the world to see that it hasn’t stopped turning. One example I have of this is when I met my cousin for a coffee the morning after my friend had taken her own life. I woke up feeling fairly normal, got ready and hopped on the bus to town and looked out the window to see the city moving as usual. I got off the bus two stops later when I realised my sudden snotty crying was getting a bit loud. I don’t remember starting to cry but I do remember walking up the High street amidst the Christmas shoppers blatantly sobbing and intermittently vaping (please laugh at this image cause I do- I also had a glazed donut in hand if that helps.) These experiences are also not limited to the immediate aftermath of a death, I’ve had similar experiences years after they’ve passed at gigs, on nights out, at the cinema, at bus stops and even watching The Simpsons (screw Matt Greoning for having Close To You as Marge and Homer’s fucking wedding song). My point is, big jabs of grief happen as randomly as moments of peace, acceptance and even contentment - it’s all just a big clusterfuck cocktail that adds a bit of spice to your life.

One thing I am trying to practise more when taming my grief goblin is actually talking about it which I failed to do before. As previously mentioned, people around you can get a bit awkward or uncomfortable when talking about all things death, ESPECIALLY when they haven’t experienced it themselves and you’re actually reaching out to them for support. I’ve had some advice that was great and some that was fucking awful, I even have grief pet peeves now which is not something you see much of on Room 101 (although I am willing to put my argument forward to Frank Skinner if he’s interested in that sort of thing).

So, what shouldn’t you say to someone who’s being RKO’d by their very own grief goblin? Never- and I cannot stress this enough- say how “StRoNg” or “bRaVe” you think they are. Never. Cut that shit out, it’s fucking GROSS. THis is an especially common thing from those Ungrieved and it honestly feels like an Alexis Rose Pity boop on the nose or pat on the head. To me, those words mean “awwwwww, sucks to be you pet.” which may sound harsh but hear me out. The wonderful Maya Richardson describes the frustration with this in regards to racism/transphobia/homophobia but I also think it applies to grief perfectly:

“You’re so brave comments often feel like a microaggression as it’s a form of ‘othering’.This is to view or treat someone as intrinsically different and alien from oneself. The comments Basically say “your life is harder than mine” and feels like a back handed compliment Or an insensitive power move even if they meant well.”

The “you’re so __” comment gives you no support and is alienating, it makes you feel like you’re a freak who’s fighting a one person battle that you can only fight on your own cause no one else is as “strong” or as “brave” as you. Also, I’m not fucking strong or brave. I don’t want to be strong, I didn’t ask to be brave, and if not being these things means I don’t have to meet my grief goblin every morning then I’d rather be a weak coward any day.

The best response I’ve ever had when telling a friend I’m grieving or I’ve just lost someone is “Fuck me! Another one? That’s wank. Do you want to talk about it?” Not only did this not isolate me and it gave me the opportunity to talk through things to process them better, but it also validated everything I’m feeling. Yes it is wank thank you for acknowledging how utterly wank this situation is - it’s the biggest pile of wank I’ve ever waded through and no, I’m not “brave” for doing that.

Let them talk about it, listen to them, hug them, recognise the wank they're wading in and give them a hand to pull them through. Also, if they don’t want to talk about it then,for the love of God, just treat them as you would normally. When you’re walking on eggshells around someone they can also see the shells you’ve scattered about the place and it makes it all so lonely - cut that shit out. I’m someone who handles pain via humour cause if i don’t laugh i’ll cry and if i cry i wont stop so, if I make a joke about cemetery visits being more like European tours due to how many graves we visit and how fucking long it takes, PLEASE just laugh; I’m trying my best here.

Ultimately, I see grief as a pet for life that you learn to train and care for, but it still does piss on your floor or bite your heart every now and then; and if you know a friend who has one of these funny little creatures you should treat it as such- a new pet of theirs thats learning to be obedient. They may leave it at home sometimes or introduce you to it if they feel comfortable but, in the end, it is here to stay. And that’s okay.

Treat them and their grief goblin with the respect and love it deserves and then, I assure you, we’ll all pull through together - eventually.

#grief goblin iteasssswhatiteasssss yolo funnythoinnit

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tcm · 5 years

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The Romance of Murder...The Murder of Romance by Theresa Brown

George Stevens— director of SHANE (‘53), GIANT (‘56), GUNGA DIN (‘39) and WOMAN OF THE YEAR (‘42)—won the first of his two Best Director Academy Awards for A PLACE IN THE SUN (‘51), one of the iconic screen classics that started off the 1950’s. (His second Oscar was for the epic GIANT). A PLACE IN THE SUN is truly textbook filmmaking at its finest. The movie has six Academy Awards to its credit. Stevens takes us by the hand and masterfully lays down bread crumbs for us to follow. His filmmaking here is romantic with scenes flowing seamlessly from one into the next, using a few wipes and many super slow dissolves. Superimpositions linger onto the next scene like ghosts. His slow dissolves make me swoon.

A PLACE IN THE SUN is based on a Theodore Dreiser novel and is a remake of the 1931 film directed by Josef von Sternberg. Stevens’ version stars Montgomery Clift, Elizabeth Taylor and Shelley Winters, all three acquitting themselves very nicely in a morally ambiguous triangle. Frankly, I’m torn. I want to be a good and ethical audience member of society...but I’m swept up by the romance of the film.

Montgomery Clift gets an utterly fantastic intro into the movie. Underneath the film’s credits with great musical fanfare, the movie starts with a young man hitchhiking on a highway. Thumbing for a ride, he backs up into the camera and after George Stevens’ director title card disappears, Monty (if I may be so informal) turns to face the camera. Stevens slowly dollies into a close-up of him. My God! That beautiful face of Clift’s fills up the entire screen. Man or woman, if you’re not a goner by that point, then you need more vitamins.

And that’s just the first five minutes of the movie! Maybe THAT’s the lure...and the danger of this film – the beauty of Montgomery Clift’s face. (Or maybe it’s just my moral code that’s a bit askew.) His character seems like an unassuming young man. He’s in town to get a promised job from his rich uncle. He’s shown to be the type to work for what he wants; willing to start at the bottom. He’s not looking for something on a silver platter. He doesn’t seem manipulative or calculating. When he meets his rich relatives, they barely hide their condescension. At one point, he’s at the front gate of the “big house” during a party of arriving guests. He wants but has no entry into this world.

It’s kind of amazing through Stevens’ direction how unseen Clift’s George Eastman is. At one point, when he is invited to a big party, in his best blue suit, the camera follows him into the mansion. The butler doesn’t acknowledge him. He’s not greeted by his cousins. No one talks to him. He wafts through conversations with nary a person turning their head. The hoi polloi doesn’t see him. He is alone amidst a crowd of people. He goes off to play pool by himself. He’s unseen until...

Look who does see him when he goes to work at the family business; all the gals on the assembly line. They make with the wolf whistles. Working class women see him. Here, Stevens introduces us to another leg in this triangle: Alice Tripp. Let me give a hand to the great Shelley Winters, who didn’t shy away from unflattering roles. Here, in a nowhere job, she lives alone in a rooming house, goes to the movies alone. A cog in the wheel of life. She’s a nice girl...a nice enough girl. She eases into a relationship, of sorts, with George. They drift together, keeping company.

Stevens does something interesting when trouble begins for George. He keeps him in the dark: keeps him hidden. He keeps us from seeing him. When George makes his “Valentino” moves on Alice with the help of a loud radio and her living on the ground floor (easy access?), they’re both hidden in the dark and slightly out of frame when he takes her to bed. We see this motif again when George comes over to Alice’s place (finally) to celebrate his birthday after his dizzying night in the arms of an angel. We don’t see either of their faces when she has to tell him she’s in ‘trouble.’ Interesting set-up the way Stevens blocks the scene – he has Shelley’s back to the camera AND her body obscures Monty from our view. Another time he’s in darkness is when Winters goes for that god-awkward doctor’s visit (“I... cannot...help...you”). George waits in the car’s darkness to find out what the doctor can “do” for her. Why is he not seen?

Alice’s desperation is palpable. She demands he marry her. That’s understandable. So why am I not sympathetic to her? I’ve tried several viewings to suss “why” from my psyche. They would have gone on to have a pleasant and unremarkable life together. He would never know what he’d missed out on. But there is that nail in his coffin...and a most beautiful nail it is.

When George is fully and finally SEEN, it’s by an Angel.

To say Elizabeth Taylor is beautiful is quite an understatement. She plays Angela and she is absolutely a ravishing thing of beauty. We see her when George sees her earlier in the movie. He is not registering on her radar, even though she was on his. And since there’s none so blind as those who cannot see, she has not seen him, though he has seen her several times during the movie. It’s him making that pool shot that finally catches her attention. (“Wow!”) She is quite a vision floating into that billiard room in a stunning Edith Head dress (who won an Academy Award for Costume Design), as though she’s on a white chiffon cloud. It’s love at first sight. Instantaneous, magic.

We can see they’re right for each other. She’s his passport to getting recognized. No no, he’s not using her. His own idea for a cost proposal for his uncle gets him kicked upstairs into an office and out of the factory line. Angela adores him, gives him entree into her world. She takes him by the hand and pulls him out of that lonely room into the party. As they’re embraced in a dance, Angela notes the intrusion of us, the audience in the dark: “Are they watching?” They are dreamy. They are beautiful.

But there IS an intrusion, a very real one, when Alice confronts George with her pregnancy. She stands between him and paradise. Is it murder if you merely wish someone dead? Yes, Monty should do the right thing. Make a clean breast of things. Would he be forgiven? Would he lose everything? The thought of paradise lost is unbearable. I’ve tried to put myself in Alice’s shoes. But it’s heart over head; emotion over logic. Who doesn’t want what they want? Perhaps I struggle because I wonder, how COULD I give up the thing I want most in the world, the thing just within my grasp. Could you?

A PLACE IN THE SUN is a masterpiece of filmmaking, acting and checks all the boxes. But we were set up! I think the movie is a set up for George and for us. Sound is used effectively in this. The loons...the dog’s bark permeating...the radio news of a drowning is itself drowned out by the roar of a speedboat. Franz Waxman’s Academy Award-winning music in this does me in, whether it’s romantic, foreboding or narrating Monty’s inner dilemma. Waxman’s love theme puts me in a trance. William C. Mellor’s cinematography wins him an Academy Award with breathtaking scenes. In the movie, there is a moment in the woods between Monty and a Ranger that stops me as dead in my tracks as it stops George. I can’t even describe HOW it’s lit, but it looks unlike anything else in the movie. I wait for it. William Hornbeck won an Academy Award for Film Editing and the screenplay by Michael Wilson and Harry Brown also won an Oscar.

But I put the onus and blame on George Stevens for breaking my moral code. He set us up for failure by putting the beauty of Monty and Elizabeth in our path. I’m not a bad person...I want to do the right thing by society...one should face consequences for their action. But Monty and Elizabeth together; she holds out all one can dream for and paints a picture of a loving paradise he fears will slip through his fingers.

Now I ask you: is that fair?

#A Place in the Sun #George Stevens #Montgomery Clift #Elizabeth Taylor #edith head #romance #classic film #TCM #Turner Classic Movies #Theresa Brown

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hermannsthumb · 5 years

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I absolutely loved the one where Newt came to look after Hermann when he though he had consumption and I was wondering if there was any chance you could do a short sequel? Something to do with Newt being dissaproved of by Lars? :)

i can’t really tell you why but the FINALLY cool weather we’re getting has put me in the mood for this au again....pls enjoy some hermann “yearning” gottlieb

part one of the fic

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

Hermann rarely allows himself fits of indulgence as extreme as oversleeping, but on the occasions he does, it is always on days such as today: cold, wet, gloomy. Days designed to be spent inside with the curtains drawn tight and a hot water bottle tucked in the bedclothes. Hermann in particular has plenty reason to do so; the constant dull twinge of pain in his left leg builds to a roaring throb when it rains, and the bought of pneumonia he’s only just managed to shake has left him wary of stepping beyond his front stoop in anything less than sunshine. It’s not as if he has any pressing work waiting for him at the laboratory. Newton, he’s sure, can manage a single day without him.

At half past eleven, Hermann is roused by the distant thud of the heavy wooden door knocker downstairs. Thirty-five minutes past eleven, there is a lighter knock at his bedchamber door. “Dr. Gottlieb?” their footman calls. “You have a caller.”

Damn. Hermann groans into his pillow. “Thank you,” he calls back. “I won’t be a moment.”

It takes Hermann a bit more than a moment--his bed is very warm. At risk of making whoever is calling wait longer, he merely ends up belting his dressing gown over his nightshirt and trading his long socks for his house slippers to go down. He regrets it the moment he pushes the parlor door open.

It is Newton; of course it is Newton. “Hermann!” he exclaims, and rises from his stool at once as Hermann stumbles back against the doorframe in embarrassed surprise. He’s in his dressing gown, by Jove. “You’re alright. Why didn’t you come to the lab? I was so worried.”

“I was feeling a bit under the weather,” Hermann says weakly. He draws his robe tighter round himself as Newton struts forward, practically overdressed in comparison, even with his sleeves pushed up (garish tattoos revealed), his glasses smudged, his perpetually untidy hair even untidier than usual. “Goodness, Newton, if I’d known it was you--I’m not decent.”

“And yet you were completely willing to entertain anyone else in your nightclothes,” Newton says, grinning. He clasps Hermann’s hand. “Am I really that different, my friend?”

Hermann colors; desperate to avoid the question, he clears his throat and poses one of his own. “Why are you here?”

“I told you,” Newton says. “You didn’t show up at the lab. I was worried, so I decided I’d check up on you. I thought--” His voice falters a moment. “I thought your illness may have returned.”

Hermann has not been alone with Newton since his illness. (In their laboratory, they are under the constant watchful eyes of their fellow researchers, their hired hands, and on the occasions they dine out together for supper or take a walk, at least a dozen other like-minded individuals. Here, it is almost always under Hermann’s father’s eye, who finds a way to situate himself into the corner of whatever room they’ve occupied without fail. Their stolen moments of privacy are rare and brief--nothing at all conducive for the long talks Hermann yearns for.) The details of that last occasion do not escape Hermann now: Newton’s tears, the way he’d flung himself at Hermann’s side, sponged Hermann’s brow and forced food and water down his throat, held Hermann throughout each night, each bought of wracking shivers, and not left his side until it’d all passed.

The tenderness with which he did it all, palpable to Hermann even through the haze of fever. “It has not,” Hermann assures him; Newton visibly relaxes, “but I am terribly glad you’ve come. Will you take tea with me?”

“I should be getting back to the lab,” Newton admits. “They don’t even know I’ve left.”

“Tea,” Hermann says again. “We can talk.” Then, pointedly, “Father is out.”

“Oh,” Newton says. “Oh.”

Hermann shows him to his private study further down the hall and--never quite at ease with his father’s over-reliance on the household staff, and quite at ease with balancing objects on one hand--fetches them the tea tray himself. Newton has already made himself comfortable on Hermann’s small chaise when he returns, waistcoat and boots flung across the room, and he’s evidently drawn the curtains and stoked the fire back to life. It crackles merrily in the corner fireplace and bathes Newton in a warm orange glow. “Cake, too?” he says when Hermann sets the tray down in front of him. “You’re a godsend.”

Hermann unbelts his gown and graces him with a small smile. “Uneaten from a luncheon my sister hosted,” he says. “I know you’re fond of them.”

Newton shoves two in his mouth; he washes them down with a swiftly-poured, and clearly scalding, cup of tea, wincing all the while. “I am,” he says. “Take a seat, will you. Do you want sugar today?”

There is a smudge of pink frosting at the corner of Newton’s mouth. Crumbs on his shirt. “Not today,” Hermann says. He settles his cane against the side of the chaise, and then settles himself in next to Newton. Newton slides him his tea. “Thank you.”

Newton makes himself even more comfortable once he finishes off the last of his cup, lowering his head to the chaise cushion to rest inches from Hermann’s knee, hands settled in his lap, legs stretched out to dangle over the opposite end. Not touching--never touching. He has a lazy smile fixed on his face as he gazes up at Hermann. Throat bared. (The picture of hedonism, Hermann cannot help but think. He is gorgeous.) “What did you want to talk about?” Newton says, after some minutes of pleasant silence pass.

“Hm?” Hermann says. He’d like to push the soft brown hair (slightly damp from the rain) from Newton’s face. Pull off his thick glasses. Run his fingers over the rough stubble of his cheeks, drag them down to his mouth--his pink mouth-- “Oh,” he says. “I wanted to thank you. I realized I never properly did so.”

“You’ve thanked me plenty,” Newton says dismissively. “We’re friends. Friends do these sorts of things for each other.”

“You put yourself at great risk for me,” Hermann says. Unable to help himself, strokes back a few strands of that soft hair: Newton does not push him away, but leans into the touch.

“That feels good,” he says. “You’d’ve done the same.”

“I would’ve,” Hermann agrees, too earnest, not caring that he is playing the cards that should be kept to his chest much too fast, much too soon. “In a heartbeat, Newton. I...” He swallows around a sudden lump in his throat, around the unintentional confession that threatens to spill out. He’s certain Newton knows it anyway. (Hermann is not subtle in his stolen touches and glances.)

Newton’s smile flickers, but does not fade. Something curious passes behind his eyes--understanding, perhaps. “Hermann,” he says. His pink tongue swipes across his pink lips. “You,” he tries again. Words seem to fail him; he reaches for the hand Hermann’s pressed to his hair and begins to drag it, slowly, assuredly, to that pink mouth. Hermann does not move.

There is a small flurry of noise far down the hallway: the front door opening. “Hermann?”

“Damn,” Hermann hisses. It’s his father. Newton drops his hand and leaps to his feet.

“My boots,” he says, “where are my damn--fuck--”

He stumbles to the corner and shoves his stocking’d feet back into his dirty boots, pulls his waistcoast back on, rights his shirt, hastily buttons up both. His face is flushed a deep red and creased with guilt. Hermann imagines his own is in a similar state. (They have nothing to be guilty for, he reminds himself. Nothing happened. Nothing at all.) “In here,” he calls, dazedly.

Newton arranges himself at the fireplace mantle and adopts a look of cool boredom just in time for Hermann’s father to swing the study door open. He is stone-faced and stern as usual, even more so as he glances between them--lingering particularly over Hermann, his dressing gown, his dishevelment, the visible blush from Newton’s touch. “I was informed you were absent from your laboratory today,” he says. “You and Dr. Geiszler.”

Rain flecks the shoulders of his overcoat, which he’s not even bothered to take off: he’s clearly stormed home from his own office as fast as he could. “I woke up feeling rather, ah, under the weather,” Hermann stammers, “so I stayed in. Dr. Geiszler merely wanted to ensure it was nothing serious. He was worried, you see, considering my recent illness.”

“I’m certain,” Father says. He does not nod when he greets Newton, if Hermann can even call it a greeting: narrowed eyes, and an unimpressed “Dr. Geiszler.”

“Dr. Gottlieb,” Newton says, and, to Hermann’s equal part amusement and horror, gives an obnoxious bow. “Sir.”

Father’s lips curl down. “Get dressed,” he snaps at Hermann. Then, turning back to Newton, “As you can see, Dr. Geiszler, my son is far from death’s door, so your concern is misplaced. You’re welcome to leave. You must have plenty of work of your own to see to.”

“No!” Hermann says (hardly believing his own daring--contradicting his father is something he does not do--and ignoring Newton’s tiny smile of pride across the room.) He pushes himself to his feet unsteadily. “No, I would prefer Ne--Dr. Geiszler stay.”

“It’s fine, Hermann,” Newton says, emphasizing ‘Hermann’ too-loudly. Newton has never cared to use Hermann’s title in lieu of his first name, and he’s certainly not going to pretend to now. “I’ll go. Rest up. We have our dinner engagement tomorrow, after all, and if you skip out on me I’ll be furious.”

They have no dinner engagement. Or--had no engagement. Hermann is more than happy to treat this as the invitation Newton obviously intends. “Of course,” Hermann says. “Tomorrow.”

He extends a trembling hand in Newton’s direction; Newton steps forward and takes it in a mere companionable handshake, yet Hermann cannot help but feel the ghost of the far more intimate one they left unfinished. Behind them, Hermann’s father sweeps from the study to undoubtedly wait pointedly in the foyer for Newton. Then Newton ducks closer. “Come to my rooms tomorrow,” he breathes, so quiet Hermann can scarcely hear. “We’ll say we decided to take a long dinner.”

“A long...?”

Newton lifts Hermann’s hand up--a mirror of earlier--and brushes his lips over the knuckles so gently, so reverently, that the air leaves Hermann’s lungs. It falls limply to his side when Newton releases it. He feels dizzy. “Tomorrow, Hermann,” Newton says.

“Tomorrow,” Hermann echoes faintly.

He sits by the parlor windows and watches Newton scurry off down the street until he’s a mere speck in the rain, and, unable to quell his smile, the small bloom of joy in his chest, touches his knuckles to his own mouth.

#newmann #in the unwritten sequel hermann gets laid #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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caithelps · 4 years

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This is War by Emily Kinney RP Sentence Starters: Part 1 (feel free to change name(s), pronouns, etc as needed)

This is War:

“I know, I know, I know”

“All the songs you write are about me but you changed the names so I can’t stake my claim”

“You’re so greedy”

“And I know, I know, I know that you think you’re a much better writer”

“And that might be true”

“But what I’ve got on you is I’m a fighter”

“This is war”

“My fingers are sore”

“So far from the top”

“But I refuse to stop”

“Got shakers in my eardrums”

“Bossing like a new gun”

“When it’s all done you won’t mind that I’ve won”

“This is a battle”

“You are the prize”

“Put down that piano”

“Let’s start our lives”

“You’ve got more soldiers”

“I’ve got more passion”

“And I’m right behind you just gaining traction”

“POW! POW! POW! POW!”

“BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!”

“And I know about the lovers in your bulletproof lining”

“They don’t intimidate”

“They’re just too bit-ah late and bad timing”

“And I know you’ve got your battle plan mapped out in inches”

“I’m not scared of you”

“I’m jumping right into these Brooklyn trenches”

“I might be a masochist just asking for more”

“This stage is like a standoff”

“You’re pretty tough”

“I’m bruised and bloody but I’ll never give up!”

“Come to my side”

“We’ll sing songs together”

“I’ll hold your hand”

“Make perfect-pitched babies and form a band”

“I don’t really wanna fight no more”

“I’m sweating in the sun”

“Camped out with ammo at your door”

“I just can’t be beat”

“I will stand the heat”

“Until your love is sure baby, this is war”

Birthday Cake:

“I wanna be a famous singer”

“Would you be my band?”

“Travel the world together”

“You can hold my hand”

“Crossing cracks from the airplane to the terminal gate”

“Hope we're meant for each other”

“Hope that love is our fate”

“Life feels like a whirlwind”

“Been watching paint dry”

“Can't steady the current”

“No matter how hard I try”

“We could all use an anchor”

“You're not afraid of the sea”

“Let's both dive in together”

“Put your hooks in me”

“Boy you really got me after birthday cake”

“Making love on my friends new couch”

“So call me any night, any day of the week”

“I wanna learn what you're all about”

"I know I'm far away but this is just the start”

“If we make it past the first little part”

“We could fly around the world in the very same plane”

“We could share a life, share a name”

“I wanna live in New York City”

“You say you're gonna come visit me”

“See a Broadway play”

“Snow has just started falling”

“Hope you'll come around soon”

“My apartment is tiny but I think there's enough room for you”

“I can't seem to shake walking Echo Park Lake or get your face, outta my head”

“Am I saying too much, way too soon?”

“Well my only confidant is this empty room”

“My only response is the echo on my voice”

“When I'm falling in love it's like I have no choice”

“From my heart to my throat to my lips to the air”

“I don't wish for much, but I wish you were here”

“We need to check this out, check me in”

“I'm not into playing games but I do fight to win”

Mess:

“I've got bruises on my body, scratches on my face”

“Cookie crumbs, empty bottles all over my place”

“My bathroom mirror seemed to lose it's shine”

“When you leave you always leave a little mess behind”

"I am cleaning out my cupboards, dusting off my frames”

“Scrubbed my mouth with soap so I can't whisper your name”

“Sweeping 'round in circles trying to get you off my mind”

“Your cigarette smell, broke leather jacket taste”

“It lingers in the air right in front of my face”

“You're like a bar marker star stamp I can't scrub off”

“You're like a tattered ankle bracelet I can't seem to unknot”

“And if you wanna come around I'm caught”

“It's so early in the morning, so late at night”

“When you pull my hair and start a little play-fight”

“We are kissing in dark corners on your parents' floor”

“The kind of love that makes my knees and elbows sore”

“The kind of love that makes me just want more”

“I've got a blue stained t-shirt, my scratches bleed”

“I'm sure everyone on the subway can see”

“You make a mess of me”

“I am usually so clean, usually so sharp”

“You always come around when I'm about to fall apart”

“I'm like a fragile house of cards, you're that small gust of wind”

“Sweep by, quite the surprise I'm on the floor again”

“And if you wanna get me down I'm got”

“And if you wanna know how much it's a lot”

“Come over are we both in town”

“Come over cause I want you around”

“I want you to rip up my dress”

“I want you to make me a mess”

Berkeley’s Breathing:

“You know that I haven't gone to bed yet”

“Just call me up, I'm a sure bet”

“Berkeley's been breathing since first time we met”

“I'm wide awake, I'm a sure bet”

“Backseats and salt stings, the air crisp and breezy”

“Card key hotel room, boy, I'm just that easy”

“You know that I haven't gone to bed yet”

“If you want in, there's no need for a knock”

“We keep our doors at night unlocked”

“Tip-tap the glass, cigarette or small talk”

“I'm wide awake, my door's unlocked”

“Rain poured, my heart tore, but you didn't mind much”

“A red face from hot days and built-up lust blood rush”

“Lesson, lesson learned”

“You'll just sit, my fingertips get burned”

“Open flame, windowsill all night long”

“Take what's left of my best unfinished song”

“I'm wide awake, I'm your best bet”

Michael:

“I never could believe in God”

“But always willing to give it a shot”

“If there is such a thing as magic human souls then mine looks a lot like Michael”

“Yes, my soul looks a lot like Michael”

“Manhattan baby, drop-out, drug abuse”

“Naively feel I've walked around in his shoes”

“He looked so thirsty when my heart is full”

"I pour every drop out to Michael”

“Yes, I pour out my soul to Michael”

“Oh, San Francisco savior”

“Do you remember me?”

“In a backseat on a golden bridge, kissing”

“Let's forget about the tears I've cried”

“And let's hold on to that first night”

“Under the table he took my hand”

“We sat across from the Green Day band”

“All of those boys, but I could only see his face”

“Think how me and Michael, we are just the same”

“Yes, me and Michael we are just the same”

“I might've had a boy, and he a girlfriend”

“But on nights like those nights, rules always bend”

“I'd give up anything to feel understood”

“I'd give up and run away if Michael would”

“Please remember me”

#rph #sentence starters #rp starters #rp memes #ask meme #starters*

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blankdblank · 5 years

Text

Undercover Pt 2

Pt 1

Requested by - @deepestfirefun

All –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars

x Thorin – @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @queenoferebor

Long lunch over you made it through a couple more classes, until you found your way into your linguistics course. Straight to your chosen seat you caught Bofur’s slip into the room and grin in his move to your side missing your stolen picture and arrival confirmation for him as he sat down settling his bag in his lap. “Heard bout your scuffle earlier. Nice take down, Dwalin is talking bout getting a picture from security to frame for you.”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh yes, I can picture how thrilled my Dad and older brothers will be to see that. Already had to inform security on why I immobilized him at all.”

Bofur glanced at you with a brow raised, “Oh, cameras, yes, no doubt.”

Flinching out a grin you stated, “Didn’t mean to make you question your freedom.”

He chuckled shaking his head while patting your hand resting on the long curved desks on each elevated section of seating, “No worries, been a bit odd not to see the full suited guards around us. Nearly forgot about the cameras. Makes one picture men in suits in the roof ready to pounce if needed.”

Making you giggle, “I’ve seen the size of your guards, I doubt the ceiling could support them.” Earning a chuckle from him in return.

Looking forward you watched your Professor Baggins enter the room, a bit irritated in his scan over the room until his eyes stopped on you stirring a hint of a grin onto his face before he peered down at his roster deciding you had to be the one belonging to your name. An introduction later a series of questions later on basic understanding points to his course he got to call your name inching out his grin at your answering to it and the follow up questions delving into countless usually missed Hobbitish points. A language mainly kept between Hobbits, even more secretive than Khuzdul, he prized himself on guiding his students through knowledge of at least a few common phrases each year. Now finally he had someone he could freely converse with in his native tongue and share a deeper wealth of your culture, should you be a half Hobbit.

With an enthused sendoff from his class with a great hope for the rest of the year you left to your next class with only one more after until you were freed to head home again to start on your first assignments. While your brothers were off at rugby practice with the Princes you sighed at the sudden disappearance of your favorite chips, “Of course.” In a turn you sighed again heading out to the nearest shop mumbling, “I’m gonna have to buy a safe for my snacks.” On the ground floor you flashed a grin at the guards, one of whom was a cousin of yours. “Leo, we have a theft,” his brow inched up, “Someone stole my pretzel rolls and buggles.”

Earning a deep chuckle from him and the trio behind him, “We will put a bulletin out for a thief coated in crumbs.”

“I am tempted to look into safes while I’m out.”

Again he chuckled, “Might need one.”

Easily you found your way back to the shop grabbing a basket you settled on your forearm in your stroll to the snack aisle. Absently your mind wandered until you heard a familiar low voice breaking you from your thoughts, “The one that clicks?”

Turning your head you spotted Professor Reeves, “Hi, Professor.”

Shifting his weight on his feet beside his buggy he asked, “Is that really the extent of your knowledge in my class or are you dumbing yourself down for the Princes’ sakes?”

“I may not be on their level in terminology or studies in the field but I’m a quick study and I am actually skilled at solving puzzles and deciphering messes, just like the ones you left on our stations today.”

Two steps was all you got before he stated plainly to your back, “You have managed to win some form of their affections, and as adorable you would look on a postage stamp in the end,” he let out a breath, “Let’s just say I hoped you’d be more than just another title chaser hoping to rub elbows with the nobles.”

“Are you done?”

His brow twitched up, “I’m all ears.” He said crossing his arms over his chest.

“My father and oldest brothers are members of the Royal Guard.” His lips parted as his arms began to slack, “For as thrilled as it makes me to be assumed as the Title Hungry Tart of the week, I grew up working in the palace to afford my tuition. Perhaps you should wonder why your other students seemed so ill prepared compared to the student who can’t name the tool that clicks to find out what they were building. I may be behind on your written exams for now, but I won’t be for long.”

Turning sharply you continued onto the chips as his arms released completely and he returned to his shopping. The weight of his assumptions weighing heavily on him all the way to his house as you filled your basket, paid then walked back with bags in hand. Trotting up the steps your irritated scowl drew their eyes to you and at the counter you halted then turned to face it as Leo stood, “Jaqi?”

Trailing a deep sigh you stated as plainly as you could, “You may wish to inform the King,” he nodded, “There appears to be an assumption that I am the Title Hungry Tart of the week.”

Leo struggled against his smirk, “Will do.”

You nodded, “Thank you, please don’t tell Mom.”

Chuckling again he waited till the elevator doors sealed and sat again mumbling to himself stirring a spreading smirk on the faces around him, “Bet’s on she’s already heard.”

…

“Just breathe Thorin.” Frerin patted his back soothingly as Dwalin finished setting out the cards and notes beside the supply of sodas next to where the pizzas would be set.

A bell sounded and they all rushed to the door. A wide grin spread onto their faces as one flinched anxiously onto yours in their stepping back to let you inside. Holding your bag at your side you passed through to the living room as Thorin rambled out, “So, we’ve got the drinks, some snacks and all the notes, we’re just waiting on the pizzas.”

You nodded and brushed your hair out of your face as you sat down, a stolen glance at your sock coated feet after deciding to leave your shoes in your apartment spread Thorin’s grin. The simple silent statement of comfort in their place eased his worries at least that you would try to be formal and keep to your distant stations. With a dip the couch settled beside you as he claimed the cushion beside you. Step one was down, it was all set up and you were here. Around the table they settled and began on the simplest supply of cards to start with until another ding tore Dwalin to the door.

Eventually it melted into a giggling snack fueled bonding session as Frerin and Dwalin both stole their chances to slip out casually leaving you both to some time alone hoping that being alone with you might encourage Thorin to finally ask you out. Giggling again you eyed the card Thorin had stuck to his forehead mid bite on your next slice, his grin widening as he asked, “What about this one?”

You looked over the drilling tool with a squared bend in the center under a handle you cranked to drill the hole, a few chews later you swallowed and shook your head, “Um, well, it drills.”

Making him chuckle saying, “Well you got part of it down.” Flipping the card over he lowered from his forehead he read the technical description of the brace and then moved onto the next card.

More and more it melted into a series of joking back and forth when you were clueless slowly shifting into your abandoning the cards to lean back finishing off the pizza at each other’s side. A loud chime from the clock tower across the street snapped you out of your joking and broke up the night with you heading home for the early morning workout he was thrilled to hear you would be joining in on, at least on the track around their field.

…

Five am came far too early and after a breakfast you were in shorts and a baggy tanktop with sneakers and hair pulled back in a braided ponytail similar to your brothers beside you. The Princes soon joined you in the path through the lobby out to the walk to the field across campus leaving you soon flanked by the rest of the team eyeing you curiously. The few guards tailing you kept a good eye on your group and while they started on practice you joined the guards in the steady laps around the field. Slow at first you matched their speed but as you kept on, steadily increasing speed until you found a nice pace the team was stunned to see you holding for the long practice.

A shower later when you had gone back to your apartment later and you were back with the guys off to your first classes. Today was another set entirely and much to the excitement of the Princes you shared a lunch with them stirring up a request to share it back at the apartment. Between classes you could see a few glimpses of Professor Reeves trying to steal a moment of your attention you weren’t willing to grant him just yet, leaving him to linger on what he had assumed of you. More and more you settled into your classes even more mingled with theirs bringing with it more and more stolen pictures of them sent off with verifying messages.

Another shared dinner bled into another early practice and then into your next slew of classes. Reeves’ went a bit smoother with him being interested to see your minor increase in being able to converse with your group on what to use and how to complete today’s challenge. By week’s end the settling of the team with increased hopes of a first win in next weeks game brought on the first party of the year. At your latest shared lunch however you were reluctantly looped into the celebration you knew the guards would be enforcing your attendance for an extra pair of eyes.

Fidgeting with his button down shirt Thorin’s brows furrowed until Frerin draped across his back in a similar shirt in a dark grey contrasting Thorin’s flannel shirt Dwalin had picked for him in a deep green. Dwalin stuck to his simple t shirt over their matching jeans and boots. “Just relax.”

Shaking his head Thorin grumbled back, “Relax, all you say is relax…” With a shove he was out in the hall and off into the elevator, where they found you in a white floral corseted top with thick straps over your shoulders hugging you tightly over your black jeans and wedges. The small dip in the top at your pushed up cleavage drew Thorin’s eyes for a moment until he snapped his eyes back to meet yours as a wide grin spread across his face. A weak grin flashed onto yours in your holding back from ogling the guys as your brothers finished tying their hair back into ponytails.

Thorin grinned as Dwalin stated the obvious for his silent cousin, “You look nice Jaqi.”

Weakly you chuckled saying, “Mom heard about the party.”

C chuckled saying, “Should have heard the battle to keep her out of a dress.”

B chuckled out, “Epic.”

“Finally talked her down to this top and ‘my best jeans and heels’ for the evening.” Looking over the trio you said, “You are lucky.”

They chuckled and Thorin finally spoke, “Not really, we have to remain under guard for our first party.”

“I doubt they will go to extremes.”

The trio sighed and Frerin mumbled, “I hope not.”

You smirked joining them out to the lobby and street after, where they glanced around wondering where the guards were while you eased the dagger set Leo had slipped you up a bit higher under the back of your top. Anxiously you continued on wondering how you would convince the Princes to remaining close by so you could observe the crowds around them. The closer you got the more they inched closer around you and your brothers at the sea of people growing around you towards the main activity halls lit up, packed with people, drinks and music that flowed out all the way across campus.

Little by little you caught more glances your way and when the team spotted the men around you who all stole their own glances at you when the Princes curiously went to the team’s table of drinks and snacks leaving you under the watch of their fullback and his girlfriend. Both of whom eyed you curiously and started to chat about the classes you shared before she leaned in to ask, “So, any clue on who you might be interested in?”

Hearing your question Thorin forced his grin to remain in place with two drinks in hand, one he offered to you hearing you say with a giggle, “If I told you that my mom would be set on digging up their lives in hopes for courtship by dawn.” Making the pair giggle in your eyeing the drink your hand folded around, “Thank you.”

Leaning in Thorin rumbled by your ear, “Tried for a raspberry blimey, I think that was one you liked from Dain’s New Years bash.”

You nodded and gave him a quick grin raising the cup to your lips for a quick sip feeling his eyes on you watching your reaction. Softly you stated lowering your cup, “Wow.”

His brow inched up, “Not right?”

You gave him another grin, “Maybe a bit too much lime?”

His grin inched out, “I’ll remember that next time.” He said raising his beer to his lips as you raised the glass for another sip feeling the warmth of it coursing through you with the Elven vodka he had chosen settling your plan on the slow and steady nursing of it all night to remain focused.

It seemed as soon as you had entered a slew of women tried to mingle their way closer to the team hoping to find the Princes’ sides. Though much to their irritation the identical pair folding around you in the middle of the team as Dwalin grinned at them from across the group chatting with their team captain. Drink by drink the pair chugged losing track of how much in the noise and mingling crowds around them. A single woman broke through though and in a low sway as she turned to claim a drink of her own Thorin draped against your side humming by your ear, “Your drink is looking a bit low. Care for a refill?”

At Frerin’s cocky grin chuckling at his brother’s assumed smooth line and stolen easing of his hand around your hip you turned your head to answer, “I remembered, I have some drinks at home I’ve been dying to try. Up for some?”

A missed slap from the woman being nudged away from the team knocked the first drink free starting a drink battle coating you three with a mixture reeking of whiskey, vodka and flavored syrups. A grip on the Prince’s belts in the triggered fights brought the brothers out with your brothers, Bifur, Bofur and Dwalin behind you. Quietly the empty streets soon filled with music again as the fights died out. A parked car with a hiding guard sent off a calming message that the Princes were clear of the fights easing the worries that you three could be trusted to guide them to safety. Chuckling around you the brothers grinned at their arms draping around your back for the walk back, a stop to hear a message from the man behind the counter you drew out the hidden weapons you had to pass back to Leo in your path to the elevator.

…

A painful slap of sunrise stirred the brothers painfully from their liquor induced slumber. Tentatively they inched up eyeing the strange bedroom they were in, the massive bed on which they were both tangled in the sheets wrinkled across it appearing to have enough space for a third body between them. A lowering of their eyes at a sudden realization had them peek under the covers across their laps revealing the confirmation of what they had feared.

Frerin, “I’m naked.”

Thorin grumbled, “Same.” His eyes met his brother’s with a hint of a challenging glare taking the assumption of who had slept between them at the hope their shared heated dream had been true.

Frerin raised a hand, “Now, I know that look. If we both had her then that was her choice. Clearly, unless she says she would like otherwise it was a one time thing, for me.”

Thorin sighed only to turn his throbbing head towards the propped open door hearing you call out, “Eggs are ready.” Jerking the covers free of them the pair stood choosing to ignore their lack of clothes anywhere in the room or on them to head out to join you. Hearing the pair leaving their room you called out, “Juice or coffee?”

Though in turning you missed Thorin’s having taken in your smaller figure draped in a baggy shirt clearly their size handed down from your brothers with messy bun on top of your head. With both hands cupping your cheeks in a warm good morning kiss you had no choice but to melt into while flashes of your assumed dream from the night before flooded back to you. Blinking up at the Prince you heard him say, “Coffee, would be lovely.”

Out of the corner of your vision you noticed the lack of cover on the pair you woke up tangled between as Frerin said, “You look well rested.”

You nodded, “You, um,” Thorin again was at your side after pouring himself a mug of coffee, “What, what happened to your boxers?”

Frerin shrugged, “Not certain, you have any clue which room we were in when we tossed them?”

Your head shook, “No,” you cleared your throat softly, “No, you had them when I shifted your clothes to the dryer last night when you were off to bed.”

Thorin’s mug lowered and his lips parted after he swallowed his sip of coffee, “You didn’t, sleep with us?” Frerin’s eyes narrowed taking in the blush and uncertain expression flashing across your face spurring an urge to drop the subject until you were ready to speak of it again.

You shook your head replying unsteadily uncertain of what had happened yourself, “No.” Trying not to reveal your own night of heated dreams after sleeping between the barely dressed men that had formerly been draped across your bed. Wetting your lips you set down the tray of pancakes you had made on the table, “I’ll get your clothes.”

In your absence Frerin leaned in to whisper to Thorin, “Hey, good news.”

Thorin glared at him, “I kissed her, assuming-,”

Frerin waved his hand, “Ah she’s not mad about it. Prince or not if she didn’t care about you she’d have slapped you at least, or thrown us out.”

Thorin wet his lips as he nodded turning with Frerin at your return, both grinning as you offered the jumble of clothes, in which they claimed their portion and first tugged on their jeans and socks. Both holding their shirts when your brothers stirred from their rooms spurring their grins back onto their faces at the larger figures groggily coming to join in on your breakfast each eyeing the shirtless pair.

C, “I see your clothes got cleaned, thought we might have to send you up in some of ours.”

B, “At least we don’t have practice.”

You nodded stealing a glance up at Thorin in your path to fetch some juice for yourself. On your way back to the table you listened to their starting up a conversation stealing glances between you and Thorin as he watched you turn and take your seat again to fill your plate. All through the meal you felt him stealing glances your way as if to silently assure himself of something, and the pink shade to them you assured to be easily from your random bouts of resting your chin in your palms in glancing between the men.

Plates were cleared and at a call from your cousin B and C made their way out to the film they had all agreed to the night before while Frerin and Thorin hung around pretending to look for their things to fill their pockets. Finally their boxers were found under the mess of covers they folded and shoved into their pockets before heading out to find you again in the living room cleaning up the glasses from the night before.

Around you they claimed their portion and joined you to the sink where you couldn’t help but giggle asking, “You thought we slept together?” Glancing between them you added, “The both of you?” your head shook with another giggle at their sheepish glances at you, “Wow, must have been one hell of a dream to have you this bashful.”

Frerin couldn’t help but chuckle moving closer to claim a hug, “Either way, I for one am glad you are not upset with us.”

“For what? I spoiled your party by dragging you back early and somehow missed out on a threesome.” Making him chuckle again.

Rolling his eyes he leaned in kissing your forehead after brushing back your bangs, “I am going to change, Adad wanted us to drop by some book opening.”

You giggled in his path to the door at his next groan, while Thorin kept his eyes on you nipping at his lip until your eyes met his again increasing his urge to lean in and claim another fiery kiss from you. “Please tell me you aren’t going to apologize too. You apparently have a deadline to keep.”

Weakly he chuckled and glanced from your eyes to your lower lip after you released it from between your teeth. “I, was wondering, if you were up for me tonight?”

Your brow ticked up in your curious grin, “For you?”

“I,” again he stole a glance at your next nip at your lip, “For a bite, for me to bite you.” His head shook at your soft giggle, “Not, bite you, for us to bite-, eat!” he inhaled sharply then added, “Are up to eat?”

Again you giggled and he wet his lips feeling his cheeks heat up, “Are you asking me to dinner?”

Hoping you would say yes he timidly replied, “Yes.”

“The group or just us?”

“Us.”

“Another pizza study session, or-,”

He shook his head, inching closer, “No. Um, there’s a nice place not far from here Adad usually takes Amad. They have great steaks and pasta I hear.”

You nodded and wet your lips drawing his eyes to them again, “Sounds nice. So dress then.” Weakly you giggled saying, “No doubt Mom will have at least five for me to choose from by sunset.”

Nipping at his own lip he purred back, “I am certain you will be spectacular as always.”

“I probably shouldn’t keep-,” Again his impatience won out and your eyes closed at his hands settling on your cheeks and his lips folding against yours. In what he planned for a subtle peck your arms looped around the back of his neck rising up onto your toes while his hands lowered and settled on your back. Working his lips against yours however the action seemed familiar and brought back more of what he hoped were memories of the night before.

A content hum from him turned to an irritated huff at the bell tower sounding, resting his forehead to yours, “I will get us a table and text you the time.”

You nodded and he stole another quick peck at your arms lowering from his neck as his eased off your back. “Enjoy your book stop.”

He grinned at you in his back step away, “I will see if they have the next in your series while I am there.” At your lips parting he said “And yes, I do have to.” Chuckling in his turn to the door, mentally assuring himself that even after the night before with Frerin he would take things as slow as you wished.

“Well?!” Frerin’s brows inched up as he exited the shower he left running for Thorin to walk into, wrapping a towel around his waist, “How’d it go?”

Thorin chuckled saying, “I asked her to dinner.”

Frerin, “See! Knew you could do it!”

“Only thing is, I have to get a table at Adad’s little place he takes Amad.”

Frerin dried off as Thorin hastily scrubbed trying not to focus on the tingle of his skin where your hands had settled to keep calm with his company, “I am certain Adad will make a call when he hears who you’re finally taking out.”

Thorin, “Just hope Gramps-,”

Frerin, “Oh he loves her, so does Gran. Your One can tear a grown man’s arm out of the socket with her thigh, no greater compliment to a future Queen.”

“Oh don’t you start.” He said wringing out his hair after shutting off the shower accepting the towel from Frerin, who he joined in brushing their teeth before they separated to redress in their clean jeans, socks and dress shirts they rolled up to their elbows. “She does not need that pressure, we still have years to graduate and Adad is well before us in inheriting the title and Dis before us with the boys.”

Fenrir couldn’t help but smirk back humming out, “She will look lovely on our stamps.”

Thorin’s grin held but he still shook his head joining his brother down to the waiting car outside while dialing his father’s number. A simple explanation and a startling elated scream from the other end of the line playing out on speaker from their mother followed by Thrain’s promise to settle a reservation for a table for the pair of you tonight while Diaa hurried down the hall to share the news with Queen Diaa and Princess Dis in their morning tea with the boys.

Sure enough in their frenzy word had rippled out and from your father, brothers and mother you had received countless messages and calls with a drop in from a friend of your mother’s, a designer with a full rack of dresses that had been ordered for you weeks prior now useful for such an occasion. A simple trading of flirtatious messages filled your day until the Princes returned home and Thorin headed upstairs to freshen up. With book in hand a knock later and you opened your door to the Prince now sporting an outer vest extending a pair of bundled orchid in his hand secured by a golden ribbon. His eyes scanned over your deep blue sleeveless dress secured by a sheer panel secured by a strap around the base of your neck. A sweethearts neckline underneath, hugging you tightly to the sash at your waist where the layers of the skirt hung to your mid thigh with heels to match accentuating your legs, making them seem longer, even next to the tall beaming Dwarf escorting you.

The simple dinner was soon discovered and within the hour the kingdom had picked up on a new possible addition to the Ruling Clan. News had picked it up spiraling it even more out of control and with no clues form the Durins themselves as to which Prince had taken you out already the pictures captured of the Princes in school gave them ample information on who you were, what you were studying and how you were doing in your classes.

A warm goodnight kiss was your parting as the Princes were expected to an early stop on their second day off. Though unexpectedly you had a call of your own form Queen Niro bringing you down to the waiting car outside. A last minute trip to the Palace brought you face to face with her only for a moment before she tugged you into a tight hug. Her grin spread and she guided you through to join Diaa, Dis and the youngest Princes for morning tea.

Glancing between the cheerful Dams elatedly sharing the plans to include you in a weekly stop for tea you kept your eyes from little Fili who was on your lap nipping at his lip with handfuls of your hair he was weaving into a braid he had been hoping to master one day. By the end of the tea Kili was beside him leaning on your bent arm staring at your hair wide eyed at the curls he pulled straight that bounced back again. The calm demeanor around them settled their imagined hopes of you possibly having a pebble of your own soon enough to add to their growing clan.

Pt 3

#Thorin x Reader OC #Frerin x Reader OC #Hobbit #lotr

14 notes · View notes

princesskeda · 6 years

Text

Heart of the Oni

After the supposed deaths of their friends and family, Nya, Lloyd, Pixal, and Misako cope with the aftermath of Harumi’s rein and try to move on with the help of some old friends. But not everyone grieves the same way. Meanwhile in the First Realm, the ninja are trying to survive and find a way home. Post S8, this started out as a speculative fiction about S9 but its so much more.

CHAPTER 4

Cole went to close off the entrance to cave. For lack of any better options, he had spent the better part of their last hour of sunlight blasting a cavity into the side of one of the rock formations. It wasn’t pretty, but it would hopefully keep them safe for the night.

“Don’t close it off, boulder brain! How the heck are we supposed to breath?” Jay complained, stopping his friend.

“Like this” It was Kai who answered him, using his fire to blast a smaller hole near the top of the cave and out into the night air.

Jay looked at the hole and then back at Cole, who shrugged and closed off the opening. Soon they were huddled together in the cramped, dark space. The only light was weak and blue, emanating from Zane.

“Oh…I wish we had a fire or something. I hate cramped spaces…” Jay complained, wrapping his arms around his knees. Kai lit up his hand in reply.

“But I can’t do this all night. Too bad there aren’t more plants around or we could have a real fire.”

“Oh…I can think of a few things to burn…” Jay replied, eyeing Wu and his little stick of pain. Wu caught his glare and hid behind Cole, poking his head out and waving his stick.

“Bad Jay…bad bad Jay!”

“Would you guys cut it out?” Cole asked, exasperated. He was exhausted after the last hour and didn’t feel like listening to fighting all night. He pulled Wu into his lap, trying to calm him down.

“Sorry…Mom.” Jay muttered. Cole rolled his eyes. Silence ensued for a few more moments. As usual, Jay broke it.

“Wait…do you think our parents know what happened to us? Or Lloyd…or Nya??”

The other Ninja looked up. Zane frowned in concentration.

“It’s hard to say whether anyone witnessed the Colossi destroy our ship, or if anyone witnessed us escaping off of it. With no witnesses our friends may have just uncovered the destroyed bounty. But perhaps they will think that we escaped.”

“No chance.” Cole cut in. “Garmadon and Harumi will tell everyone we’re dead. It’s the best way to ensure fear in the populace. And we aren’t exactly around to prove them wrong.”

“Great. So now everyone thinks we died.” Kai punched the wall in frustration. “We don’t even know if everyone else made it out ok. Last we saw Lloyd was stuck on that tram with Harumi.”

“Oh my gosh! What if Lloyd saw us? Maybe he saw us use the traveler’s tea…” Jay cut in.

“By my calculations, the angle that Lloyd would be watching from would more likely give off the impression that we were crushed by the colossi.”

“Uhhhgh, then everyone really does think we’re dead.” Jay leaned back on the wall, and then sat back up. “My parents! This is going to kill them!”

Kai groaned and put his head in his hands. “I’m such an idiot. The last thing I said to my sister was that Ninja don’t last forever. I just hope that she can pull through this. She’s never lost anyone when I’m not around to help her…”

“Nya! This is gonna kill her too!” Jay agreed, seeming to get more panicked by the minute. Then after a moment: “Who do you think she will miss more?”

Zane smacked him across the back of the head.

“OooOW! OKAY…maybe not the most sensitive question…”

But Zane wasn’t listening, already lost in his own thoughts.

“P.I.X.A.L and I were just reunited…and now we have been separated all over again. I wonder what she will think of all of this.”

Jay patted his back. “I’m sure your robot girlfriend will be fine.” Zane just shook his head.

“I am afraid she will blame herself. She wasn’t fighting the Collosi anymore when we were taken or she would have been there to help. She must have gone to assist Lloyd or the others.”

“Speaking of just being reunited…we just found our parents. At the moment they’re off in who knows where. I wonder when they will even know I’m missing…” Kai added.

“I wonder if Cliff Gordon misses me.” Jay said wistfully.

“Who?” Kai asked, confused.

“They guy who plays Fritz Donnagon!”

“And why would that guy miss you Jay?”

Once again, Jay went a shade of red. “Because…because I’m his biggest fan, of course.” he finished lamely. Kai shook his head.

“I doubt he even knows you were ever born Jay, let alone that that you’re dead.”

“You’d be surprised…” Jay muttered to himself.

Only Cole wasn’t joining in on the conversation. He just seemed to be staring off into space, inadvertently pulling Wu closer to him. The toddler had fallen asleep and was snoring softly.

“Cole? Are you alright?” Zane asked, pulling his friend from his thoughts.

“Huh? Me? Yeah, I’m fine” Cole said, trying to pull off a lighthearted laugh.

“It’s ok if you’re worried about your father, Cole.” Zane said kindly. Cole’s fists seemed to clench on their own.

“Nah…no need to worry about him. As long as Garmadon hasn’t shut down his performing group I’m sure he will be just fine.” he said. He shifted Wu’s position in his arms.

“I’m sure that…”

“I said I’m fine.” Cole said again, in a tone that let Zane know that he was done talking about it. The other ninja made eye contact, eyebrows raised. It appeared they had encroached on a sensitive topic. The truth was, Cole wasn’t even sure his father was mourning his loss. He figured he should feel better knowing that his father wouldn’t be sad or angry or distraught…but somehow the thought of him continuing on with his life just as he always had made Cole feel very alone. He had seen it before, when his mother had died. Wu had said that singing and dancing was just Lou’s way of dealing with grief, but to Cole it felt like it was his father’s way of dealing with everything.

All that would come of my loss will be a new hit single.

Cole thought bitterly. As the silence after Cole’s snap stretched longer, it seemed like a good time for the Ninja to try to get some sleep.

Ronin stared up at the sign in front of the junkyard. Usually it was lit up with blinking neon…but the sign had been dark for the last couple of days. He sighed and willed himself to approach the little trailer in the junkyard’s center. He really hadn’t wanted to take this one, but Nya seemed more adamant against doing it than he did. Something about a dinner date that she and Jay had never got to have with them, or something. And now they never would.

After he knocked, he could hear a little scuffling inside.

“Oh, Ed…do you suppose that’s him? Maybe he escaped after all and has come home.”

“Now, Edna…I told you not to get your hopes up.” But the hope in his own voice betrayed Ed’s true feelings. The door swung open, and Ronin tried not to cringe at the crushing disappointment in the eyes of the junkyard owners.

“Ah… Mr. Ronin…what an unexpected…er..surprise…” Ed said, trying his best to still be polite.

“Look, I didn’t mean to intrude on your afternoon…but I needed to share some information with you. Can I come in?” He winced inwardly as the hope seemed to light back in their eyes. He had expected to find the couple mourning the loss of their only son. Instead, he found them clinging onto a hope that he was still out there…and he decided that the latter was harder to watch.

“You’re in luck, Mr. Ronin. I just finished up another one of my famous crumb cakes.” Edna said as he took a seat on their couch.

“Ah…thanks Mrs. Walker. But I don’t mean to…”

“Is our son alright Mr. Ronin? That’s why you came…right? Because it’s too gosh darn dangerous for him to make his way to the junkyard on his own. That would be too obvious…”

How the heck am I supposed to do this? Ronin thought. I signed up to tell them about a funeral, not break it to them that Jay really is dead. Better to just rip it off…like a bandage.

“Actually, Mr. Walker, I came to invite you to the funeral.”

The home fell into immediate silence, which was broken by the crashing sound of a plate of crumb cake hitting the ground.

Ok…maybe that wasn’t the best course of action after all.

“What I mean is…we wanted to do something to commemorate the loss of the Ninja…you know…”

“But Mr. Ronin, our Jay is not lost” Edna cut in, her voice chillier than normal. “Just because no one has seen him and because Lord Garmadon says he is dead….well, gee willikers, that don’t mean nothing to us.”

“Now…Edna…” Ed’s voice was suddenly heavier. He actually was getting on in years, Ronin realized. He was always so perky and cheerful that it was hard to remember. But in moments like this it was easy to see the years weighing down on him.

“It’s tonight. I know it’s not much notice, but we don’t really have the luxury of drawn out party plans.” He said, standing. He had to get out of here…Edna had come behind her husband and they were holding hands. No doubt that tears were en route, and Ronin and seen enough of those recently to last him a lifetime.

“The place to meet.” He finished, handing them a card. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you…we need you to be as discreet as possible.” And with that, the thief hurried from the Walker’s home.

#ninjago #ninjago fanfiction #Heart of the Oni chapter 4 #ronin #cole

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