#i used colors that remind me of her/go well with these two lovely ladies!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

matan4il · 1 year

Text

Buddie 617 meta

I’m gonna be honest here, this was one of the funniest 911 eps to me. I loved how this ep showed us both Buck and Eddie completely sucking at dating. It was very obvious in Buck’s case, what with each attempt to have quality time with Natalia being ruined by one of his past decisions, but then when he called out Eddie for also sucking at it, Buck wasn’t wrong. Eddie’s attempts seem half-hearted at best. First off, if he really wanted to date, then Tia Pepa’s help and dating apps are actually not that awful as options. Magic might happen there as well. The right person could even stand out more against a sea of not so great choices, turning the dreary experience into a colorful, magical one. But even when Eddie tries on his own, his attempts are LAME. Seriously, there are pastime activities that offer way more potential to start a conversation, and maybe a romance, than the ones Eddie chose. Not only that, these are not his actual hobbies, where he knows he’ll find someone who likes the same thing he does (the way he shares so much with one tall firefighter that we’re all thinking of right now. Eddie’s also being dumb about wanting it to “just happen” as if that’s not exactly what he got with buck. Also, just a friendly reminder that Buddie have been dating for almost 5 years, and they are GREAT at it when it’s with each other).

On top of that, we for real got a guy checking Eddie out (hi, hello, should I start a collection of him checking and being checked out by guys?) as well as him witnessing a woman he was looking at being embraced by another one. Why the hints at being surrounded by queer people? Your guess is as good as mine, but I’m here for it no matter what. ;D Now, I’ve talked before about the ongoing theme of Buddie’s dating life being intertwined in terms of when they start dating someone, or of why they break up, but now in addition to them dating at the same time, we also see them simultaneously sucking at it? Yeah, that takes the connectedness of their dating life up a notch. ~~

Which brings me to one line that grabbed my attention in this ep. THE line that offers the explicit resolution for the most important romantic plot here is the one from Gina, the insurance lady, to Chimney, about not regretting the attempt. Yes, even when the result is bad. That’s what Madney will embrace. One of the biggest obstacles to Buck and Eddie, besides their obliviousness, is the fear of ruining the good thing they have by attempting to take it to the next level. But here we have Chimney being reminded by Gina that it’s worth it, to try. Because the good thing you can have, if it works out? Is worth it. And you never have to live with the “what if” of it all. Now look at Buck and Eddie being once more adorable morons together on the job! Imagine the moment when they stop running around and let themselves try taking it to the next level, because they realize no matter what the result will be, they would never regret the attempt. ~~

Speaking of Buddie paralleling one of the canon couples on the show who were acting lovey dovey in this ep, the way Bobby described what made him and Athena happen reminded me of Buddie connecting. In both cases, there’s an intense and upsetting call, after which one of our first responders turns to find support (Buddie promising to have each other’s back) and comfort (Eddie wants to go grab something to eat together) in the other one. ~~

I did not miss Taylor Kelly, and true to form, she was back because she’s advancing her career by exploiting her personal connection to Buck and the exposure to the 118 it provided her. I’m pretty sure this basically buries any option of any showrunner ever trying to re-set these two as a romance, since it echoed and reinforced Buck’s decision to break up with her. It WAS funny to see her and Lucy cockblock Buck (I do think Lucy’s tone with which she spoke of their past also closes the door on anyone ever trying to set her and Buck up as a serious couple), but what I found to be funniest is that Buck tells Natalia he was trying to figure out the perfect place for their date, and then he took her to the bar where he kissed Lucy. A bar reminiscent of the one where he hooked up with Taylor. Possibly a spot where he hooked with other women during his Buck 1.0 stage based on how it’s THE hang out place for the 118 and we know Buck had no issues hooking up anywhere back then. Natalia, hon. This is not a good sign for your r/s with him. ~~

Speaking of which, there’s an ex who didn’t come back in this ep, but her spirit loomed large over Buck and Natalia IMO, and that is Ali. The reason why she and Buck broke up after 218 is because at the end of the day, she couldn’t accept the choices he had made in his professional life (hoping he would move on from firefighting). In the same way, Natalia revealed in this ep that she can’t accept Buck’s choices in his personal life. A small reminder the only partner we’ve ever witnessed truly seeing and accepting Buck, in every aspect of his life, has been Eddie. ~~

Another funny thing about this (911 is a comedy, y’all) is how Natalia flees the second she comes across Kameron. I mean, this is in addition to the hilarity of the death doula’s first name connecting her to birth and to all things natal, yet she flees the second that she sees a pregnant lady. Because if this is Natalia’s reaction when it comes to a bio kid that Buck explicitly said he is not going to raise, what would she do once she realizes he co-parents a fully grown kid? (and a very sassy one, too. LBR, Natalia doesn’t stand a chance in a show down with either Diaz boy) ~~

Much like Natalia doesn’t seem like the right fit for Buck based on this ep (or based on 616), neither does Marisol. Can I point out the fact that Eddie’s disapproval in the last ep of Buck dating Natalia applies here, too? They both met these women on calls. Second, Eddie wanted it to happen naturally, which is why it’s so lame he tried through all sorts of activities that he’s not ACTUALLY into and wouldn’t continue doing past the initial stage of meeting someone else. And that holds true for Marisol as well. We saw that her brother and her are very into DYI, which I guess was meant to lay the groundwork for Eddie running into her in a DYI shop. But the thing is, Eddie himself isn’t into this! Sure, he can do it, because as a single dad he’s had to, but it’s not something we’ve ever seen him being passionate about. He’s only at this store because of Christopher’s project. And then once more, just like he steps away from Pepa’s help, dating apps and chooses the wost places for a chance romantic connection, he walks away from Marisol even when the whole scene plays out as if she’s the climax of his search throughout this whole ep. This might all hint that despite initial appearances, just like the people he came across while golfing and hiking wouldn’t be the right fit, Marisol wouldn’t be either. Even more importantly, just like Ana at first appeared like she would be perfect for Eddie in 312, starting out in a “it just happened” sort of way and with supposedly being fated because she happened to guess correctly that Eddie stands for Edmundo, this thing with Marisol might look in the moment like it’s exactly what he was looking for, but it will fizzle out as well.

~~ (my weekly meta posts) (my Buddie gifs) (all of my content)

~~ My tag list will follow in the reblog, please let me know if you wanna be added/removed here.

~~ Thank you from the bottom of my heart to the incredible @whosoldherout, there are no words to describe how much I love your gifs and appreciate you!

~~ Thank you to anyone supporting these meta posts. I could never express enough how grateful I am and that they continue to exist thanks to you!

606 notes · View notes

fairdale · 8 months

Text

justice for elriel

already said this, but i feel like some people haven’t read the same books as me regarding elriel. and i don't particularly mean them as a ship, i mean that because of ships some people refuse to acknowledge the amazing characters that are these two (and how well they go together). i love them so much.

some talk of elain as plain, boring girl who is fragile and useless and i just don't get it. the poor girl has her life turned upside down not once, but twice. and yes, she doesn't react the same way feyre or nesta do, but she also fights. she helps them in the war. for the love of god, nesta and cassian are alive because she stabbed the king (with azriel's most special dagger that he never lent anyone but her, mind you). i'm sorry but that don't you touch my sister was one of the top moments for me.

and not only that, but i've seen people hate her. how can you hate her?? i just don't get it. she's growing out of her shell, she's blossoming into a strong, fearless woman. feyre herself said she believed elain to be the strongest because she remained hopeful even in hard times. and she sees the good in people.

sure, in acowar she was still processing everything, but in acofas and acosf you can see her being comfortable around everyone and more sure of herself, bolder, as cassian said. her hobbies may be quieter than her sisters', but that doesn't make her less interesting. plus it's obvious that she doesn't wanna be babied. she was willing to scry and help them fight the queen. she's ready to fight, to use her powers. to show who she really is.

and talking about azriel, i just can't believe some people talk about him as the "sad guy" and nothing else. they talk as if the whole inner circle and the archeron sisters weren't in love with him. he fights with everything he has for his people. he didn't care about the bad condition his wings were in during the last battle, he wanted to fight along his brothers.

he taught feyre how to fly because he understood the fears she may have. he never once judger her. he's always there for everyone. he may not be expressing himself with words easily, but you can see it in his actions how much he cares about his family.

he's also so smart and i love that. for me, he's one of the most interesting characters in the whole series, maybe even the most interesting one. he has such a hard past, but he overcame it. he despises the illyrians, but he loves his brothers and is one of the best three fighters they have. he has a lot of control, but he didn't hesitate to defend mor against eries or to go rescue elain. he cares, a lot.

(and please don't even get me started on the be careful how you speak about my high lady. this man is HOT)

and last but not least, elriel. these two have so many moments, even if they are subtle. you can't deny the connection they have from the second they met. elain inmediately felt more at ease in his presence and she asked him multiple questions. and he was so so kind to her, making sure she didn't feel uncomfortable. and let me remind you her dress was the color of azriel's siphons. i can't let that go.

in acowar, azriel is the one who says elain doesn't need anything when others talked about her as if she needed to be fixed. and he's the one who understands what is happening with her, that she's a seer. i think it's so important that he didn't doubt her. he trusted that she was capable enought to help, to grow, to be.

when elain gets kidnapped, he's the first one to say i'm getting her back. he didn't hesitate for one second, even when the rest told him he would die. he was getting her back. and he did, and they didn't want to let go of each other.

and elain kissed his cheek without caring about whoever or whatever that was going on around them.

and as i said before, azriel lent her truth-teller so she would be able to defend herself. he doesn't cut her wings. i feel like some people misunderstand his words acosf when he didn't want her near darkness. he was worried, but he never, once, tried to order her or tell her what she could or couldn't do.

he's also one of the few people who treats her as a capable, adult woman who is strong and clever. he encourages her, and so does she.

i also need to talk about elain saying his hands are beautiful. his hands, that he feels are always dirty and unworthy of touching something precious. she has never judged them or him.

oh, and please let's talk about them getting each other gifts for the winters solstice. multiple times. they're whipped. they're just so so cute to me.

offer and permission.

and no, i don't think azriel would be bad for elain or stop her growth. i don't think he would slow her down because he also needs to grow in his confidence.

and no, i don't think elain is bad suited for azriel because she may not be interested in fighting as her sisters are. elain is ready to fight her battles, to be an active part of her court. just because she chooses to do so differently, it doesn't mean is not important.

so, basically, these two are iconic and they're wonderful characters who deserve all the love and appreciation and i honestly think they have crazy chemistry and could have an epic (love) story. they're awesome, together and individually and i can't wait to be inside their minds. i really hope the next book is about them because the possibilities are endless.

they are that good.

#acotar #azriel #elain #elriel #pro azriel #pro elain #this doesn't mean i hate lucien and gwyn okay #i truly don't #i actually like them a lot too #but i just needed to rant about these two because i love them #i refuse to believe people actually hate on them #obviously not everyone #because not everyone has bad taste #anyway #I LOVE MY BABIES #pls no inner circle or archeron slander #pro elriel

123 notes · View notes

auxcordlawd · 1 month

Text

Part 5: Wandering Thoughts of a Ravenclaw

Summary: During Easter break you go out with friends, which ends badly.

Word count:2180

Warnings: Professor and student, age gap (all parties 18+), drinking, heavy petting, **sexual assault**

18+ readers only

It was Wednesday, and the sun was out for the first time all break. You had spent Friday through Tuesday wandering the castle, reading material from the coming term in the library, chatting with the few people who had stayed behind for the break. Less than 50 students remained so you ate at one table. You hadn’t seen Professor Snape all week, and his office door remained closed. Ever since that last night in his office he was all you could think about.

“(Y/n)?” A Hufflepuff girl whose name you couldn’t remember startled out of your reverie.

“Oh sorry, what did you say?”

“A group of us is heading to the Three Broomsticks later, some of last year’s graduates are going to be there. Specifically Quidditch players Zacharias Smith and Rodger Davies and they’ve gotten hotter.” She giggled nudging her fellow Hufflepuff Hannah Abbott.

“Yeah, I’d love to get out of the castle. I’m going a bit stir crazy!” You replied enthusiastically.

“Yay! You can meet me and Susan at the Hufflepuff door to the common room, we can get ready together. We got permission over break to allow others in our common room!” Hannah said giddily, you thankful for reminding you of her friends name.

As the sun went down you found yourself walking towards the kitchen where the Hufflepuff room was near. Suddenly Hannah grabbed your arm out from behind some wood barrels, where the door was obscured. You stepped inside, your first time in their common room, and found yourself at ease in the cozy room. Plants were scattered about, and despite being in the basement the colors of the sunset were visible through overhead windows. The girls had makeup and outfits scattered about the tables.

“None of the boys of Hufflepuff are in here right now, we kicked them out.” Alicia Spinnet, a girl on the Gryffindor Quidditch team laughed with a devious grin.

You all got ready chatting about random topics, mainly leading back to boys. “Aren’t you with that Slytherin boy, Miles?” Susan asked.

“Not really.” You said curtly, applying mascara as you spoke.

“I swear I saw you two the last day of term near the lake, and you two looked pretty cozy.” Hannah said with a mischievous smile catching your questioning face. “We don’t judge here!”

“Well yes, you did see us, but we’re not exclusive.. even though he might want to be.” You stated honestly relieved to be able to talk to someone about it. “This stays between us!” You said sternly while they all shook their heads yes eager to hear more.

“So… he walked me to detention after our afternoon together, and at the last minute he told me he loved me!” You blurted out.

“Merlin’s beard! A Slytherin boy announcing his feelings. How strange!” Alicia retorted looking truly shocked.

“Did you say it back?” Asked Susan.

“Uhh well, I said thanks and ran into Professor Snape’s office.” You replied awkwardly.

“That’s an odd place for refuge.” Hannah laughed with a curious look on her face.

“Well anyways this means you can flirt with the boys tonight!” Susan said giving herself one last look in the mirror before pulling out a bottle of firewhiskey from her bag. “Shots ladies?”

After a few drinks the sun had fully set. You had decided on a short denim skirt, your white trainers, a white cropped shirt that fell just at your bellybutton. Despite your showy attire, you were covering more than the others. Hannah wore a tight black dress showing off her endless legs, Susan wore a green slip dress that highlighted her red hair and showed a lot cleavage, and Alicia wore short jean shorts and a dark blue corset top.

You all made your way through the castle meeting up with some others as you strolled drunkenly to the Three Broomsticks. Muggle music was playing loud, some pop, some classic rock. The place was quite full for a Wednesday night, you all sat down at a large table in the back corner of the bar. Moments after sitting down there were several boys who you recognized as last years graduates and sat down with two bottles of fire whiskey and several shot glasses. Zacharias Smith sat down right next to you, turning toward you handing you a shot glass. “Cheers, to meeting back up with old friends and pretty girls.” He said winking at you before clinking glasses with you then others around the table before you all taking the shot.

About an hour or so later the bar was even more full, loud with people chatting, laughing, and music playing. You were quite drunk, but enjoying yourself for the first time all break. You stood leaning on a pole chatting with Hannah as Zacharias walked over to you, handing you a cocktail. He was eyeing you up and down hungrily. “It’s a shame we never became close when I was still at Hogwarts. You were always so focused on studies. I like to see you having fun now.”

“Well my studies paid off, so I think I’m due for some fun.” You said enjoying the attention, sipping more of your drink.

“You’re a vision in that outfit, I’d like to see how it looks on the floor of my hotel room.”

You giggled as you stumbled in to him, he put his hand on your waist possessively.

“It’s so hard to chat in here. Let’s step out front.” He grabbed your hand and you followed him, not really wanting to leave the group. One outside you leaned on the wall of the building, noticing how drunk you were. The chilly night didn’t even feel cold. Zacharias grabbed your waist and leaned in for a kiss, it felt good so you continued. He started grabbing you tighter, hands moving to your thighs. His fingers began trailing up under your skirt pushing it up higher so he could grab your ass. You shocked by his brashness pleaded “No, we shouldn’t be doing this.” Despite your pleas he continued as you tried to push him away. He reached up and grabbed your hand to stop you from pushing away. “Cmon your dressed like this, drinking all the drinks I got for you.” He said pushing into you more as he shoved his hands under your shirt.

Suddenly Zacharias was thrown on the ground away from you. You looked up stunned to see Professor Snape standing between you and him, his back facing you, holding his wand directly at Zacharias. You threw your hand over your mouth in shock as Snape yelled “Cruccio!” Zacharias was writhing on the ground unable to get a full plead for mercy out. “You’re lucky I don’t kill you.” Snape said seething. “Get the fuck out of here, and if you do anything like this again I will kill you.”

Snape turned quickly grabbing your wrist, before you even took a breath he apparated you both into his office. Snape was still fueled with anger, pacing back and forth before turning to you about to speak. Before he got a word out you ran into him and started sobbing into his chest. Startled he stood there for a second. Eventually he hugged you hard pushing you harder into his chest, as he rubbed your back.

“You’re alright, dear.” He said petting your hair tenderly.

“I’m so sorry” you cried, not even letting his unexpected warmth soak in.

“(Y/n) don’t be sorry. He is a worthless waste of space, I should have killed him right there.” He held onto you protectively. You stayed like that until your breathing normalized, your crying turning into light sniffling. He eased you into the chair in front of his desk. He leaned on his desk sitting in front of you, looking lost in thought.

You looked up at him through tearful eyes, for guidance. He magically made tea appear, two cups, as he turned to riffle through his potions cabinet. He poured a few drops into one of the glasses. “Tea to sober you up, as well as calming draught to settle your nerves.” He said softly handing you the cup. You took it and drank it down, feeling the immediate effects.

After a few minutes you felt quite sober and much calmer. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“(Y/n) you have no reason to. You do need to be more careful of who you surround yourself with, I may not always be around the corner to protect you, but when I saw you leave the bar with that imbecile I had a feeling.”

“You came outside to protect me?” You asked, feeling warm with that news.

He hesitated before answering. “Yes, I felt I had to miss (y/l/n).” He stood and went to open his door, sending out a paper airplane. Less than a minute later two house elves knocked on the door, Snape opened it revealing the house elves with their hands full of food, ham, potatoes, green beans, charcuterie, cookies, cakes, and a large pitcher of butterbeer. He motioned for them to set it down on his desk.

You both ate in silence for a while, feeling full and thankfully sober. Weeks before this event you could never imagine your professor caring for you like this. You felt so safe, so protected. It was quite late, most likely past midnight. “I believe its time for bed miss (y/l/n).” You looked up at him, feeling sad again.

“I-I don’t wanna be alone.” You said stuttering nervously.

“I can not assist you there.” Professor Snape said with certainty.

“Can’t I stay with you?” You asked desperately.

He stood there for a minute, questioning what to do or say. “That would be inappropriate, crossing lines.”

“But, but, please Profess-“

“Ok.” He cut you off in a tone hard to read, turning around to face the wall behind his desk.

He muttered something under his breath and one of his bookshelves moved as a door appeared. He opened the door and held out his arm gesturing you to enter. You slowly walked in, taking in the scene. His bed was similar to the four poster bed in the student dorms, yet his was larger, with black and cream sheets, pillows, and drapes. There was a small kitchenette with several teacups sitting around the sink. There was a small but intimate bathroom with a claw foot tub. A medium sized dresser was in the corner with books and potions scattered on top. It was small but not claustrophobic. It smelled strongly of him, which warmed you up in more ways than one. He was staring at you, seemingly questioning what you thought of his private space. “I love it.” You said finally speaking. You sat down on his bed and realized how intimate the sensation was. Was he going to sleep in the bed with you?

“I’m glad you’re comfortable. Would you like something to sleep in?” You nodded and he started rummaging through a set of drawers near the bed, pulling out a long black sweater, placing it in the bathroom. “Sleep well, I’ll be right in my office if you need me.”

“Wait.. Aren’t you going to sleep?” You questioned him, a truly innocent question.

“I will survive.” He said turning towards the door.

“Please, stay with me. I can sleep on the far side of the bed. I just want you nearby.” You said desperately. He seemed to falter at your words. “Go change.” He commanded.

You stood and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. Taking the few seconds alone to organize your thoughts. Oh how the night had taken a turn. You pulled of your skirt, tank top, and sweater, and slid on the sweater Severus gave you. It was a soft cashmere, pilled with wear, wrapped in his scent you felt at ease. The sweater laid six inches above your knee, safely covering your lacy thong underneath. You splashed water on your face, used mouthwash he had sitting on his counter top, and walked out into the bedroom.

Severus had turned down the lights, with a few candles on, leaving you enough light to get back to the bed. He had changed into a black long sleeve shirt tight against his chest and arms, and slightly baggy dark green pajama bottoms. You felt so close to him seeing him like this. You saw his eyes trail down to your bare legs, quickly looking up at you. “Come, lay down.” He said in his slow deep voice.

You obeyed climbing under the covers as he held them for you. You shifted to the far side of the bed while he climbed onto his side. You laid facing him as he did the same. “Thank you Severus.”

“Of course, but this cannot become a regular thing, you staying in your professors bed.” he said with a small smirk, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Yes, sir.” You said smiling at him while you closed your eyes. Falling into the best sleep you’ve had in weeks.

Part 6

@yurfavmommy

#fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #professor snape #ravenclaw #severus snape x reader #slytherclaw #snape fandom #severus snape #snape smut #severus smut

48 notes · View notes

unreadpoppy · 5 months

Text

An heir is born

Raphael x Gwen

The sequel to this.

A/N: Not my best but today was bad brain day, so i'm glad i was able to finish it. Finally, actual, dad!phael.

tags: @bg3fan

Someone had smacked Raphael on the chest while he was asleep.

Hard.

He sat in a hurry, looking around the room, worried that someone might have entered and tried to attack him.

Instead, when he turned his face, Gwen was standing next to him, holding her belly.

“What happened?” He asked, a frown on his face. He covered her hand with his.

“The water broke…” She whispered.

In the months leading to the delivery, Raphael had spared some time to read upon childbearing, including labor. Although he knew that any child he produced would be a tiefling, a very small part of him still worried that they would come out as he did - murdering their mother.

And so he was ready for this moment. Raphael quickly stood up and called Korilla.

“Yes, master?” She asked in a tired voice.

“Go call the midwife.” The warlock nodded and left. Raphael held one of his wife’s hand and placed the other on her back. Together, they walked out of the room, and slowly went to Gwen’s old chambers.

“Remind me why you can’t just snap us away?” She asked, hissing.

“Walking will help put the child in the right position.”

“Hmpf.” Was all she could reply. Eventually, they arrived in the room, and he helped Gwen sit down on a rocking chair.

They stayed there in silence, the only sound in the room being Gwen's breathing. Raphael paced around, not sure what to do with himself.

“Are you alright?” Gwen asked.

“I should be the one asking you that.” He replied. She chuckled.

“I’m managing, but your pacing around is making me nervous.” Raphael walked towards her and she held one of his hands, and kissed his fingers. “Everything will go well, my love.”

“I know.” He sighed. He didn’t want to worry or care about this as much as he did, but the thought of either of them dying put some fear into him.

Raphael was taken out of his thoughts by the arrival of Korilla, alongside the midwife. The woman was also an old dwarf and she had brought along her assistant, an elven maiden.

The women explained how things would go on from now and politely asked Raphael to leave.

“No.” He said.

“Sir, please understand that it would be better if you stayed outside.” The elf tried to reason. Raphael took a step back and placed a hand on Gwendolyn’s shoulder. Before he could rebuke, she spoke up.

“I think they’re right, Raphael.”

“What?”

“Look, things are going to get messy, and we all know how you don’t like chaos. Besides, I don’t want you hovering around these ladies and trying to bark orders at them if anything went slightly wrong.” She told him.

“Are you sure?”

Gwen nodded. “I promise they’ll call you as soon as the baby arrives.” He sighed but obliged.

Raphael waited outside, to what felt like hours. He even had time to change his clothes. As he heard the screaming from inside, he couldn’t help but want to barge in and see whatever the hell was going on. But, alas, he remained outside.

After only the gods knew how long, the screaming stopped and the door opened. The elf smiled at him. “Come in.”

He walked past her, looked at Gwendolyn. She was still sitting on the rocking chair, though by the look of where the blood was, she had not given birth there. Her purple hair clung to her sweaty forehead. In her arms, she held the babe, who was wrapped in cloth. She gave the child a tired smile.

Raphael walked towards them. “It’s a girl.” She said, in a raspy voice. Gwen raised her arms towards him, and he was able to take a better look.

The girl’s skin seemed to lean more on Gwen’s color, pink. She didn’t have much hair, so they would have to wait to figure out the color. He could see two small stumps on her forehead, that one day would grow into proper horns. She was asleep, so later he would figure out the color of her eyes.

With a careful finger, he gently rubbed her cheek. “Have you thought of a name?” He asked Gwen. They had discussed names previously but hadn’t arrived at a conclusion.

She nodded. “I think… something to homage my mother, without giving her the same name. Maybe…Natahlia.” She paused for a moment. “I know it’s very human sounding but-”

Raphael interrupted her. “If that is what you wish, then Natahlia it is.”

…

It was late at night. Gwen had finally put Natahlia to sleep. The two weeks since her birth, the girl had been very vocal. Because of his duties as Archdevil Supreme, he hadn’t had the opportunity to spend as much time with his newborn, which caused a conflict between him and his wife, who was stressed from taking care of the child.

Due to that, when Natahlia suddenly began crying, Raphael told Gwen to stay in bed while he walked towards the crib.

Now that it had been some time since she was born, some of her features were slightly different. For once, her skin had darkened to a more red, raspberry color. She was a big baby, with chubby cheeks, but he could already tell she had his nose. The small tuft of hair she had was a dark shade of purple.

He picked her up, shushing her. She kicked her little legs, still crying as he rocked her up and down.

“Shh…you have to go back to sleep, little lady, before your mother awakens again.” He whispered to her. “You have a grand legacy to carry on, my heir. But do not fret, under my guidance, you’ll do great things.”

She began to calm down, looking at him with big eyes, which were both blue, the same shade as the one blue eye Gwen had. Most lords would have preferred a boy, but he had secretly wished she’d be a girl, one that would be as beautiful as her mother.

He smirked and began to lower her back on the crib. Once he fully settled her down, she started to cry again. Raphael sighed and gently rocked the crib.

“Maybe you’ll prefer a song.” He said, putting a finger on her wet cheek. “How was that one your mother sang?”

He thought for a moment, remembering the lyrics and began. The lullaby had been originally written in infernal, which was how he sang it, but the translation to common was this:

The carnation fought the rose

Underneath a balcony

The carnation left hurt and the rose shattered

The carnation got sick, and the rose visited him

The carnation fainted and the rose started to cry

It was not one he particularly enjoyed much, but it got the job done, and soon, Natahlia was fast asleep again. As he looked at her belly gently raising and falling, he couldn’t help but genuinely smile. His legacy would live on.

#raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #raphael x gwen #oc: gwendolyn gray #dad!phael #my writing #baldur's gate 3 #not tav #also i might take some time to post it on AO3 due to somethings that have happened

59 notes · View notes

babyouran · 6 days

Text

The Grade School Host is the Naughty Type! - a young boy joins the host club in hopes of learning from the masters to impress a special lady. yet they aren’t ready for all the effort it takes to train such a rowdy young man.

pairing - fem! reader x host club

apart of - ouran add-in

The theme for this special day was Arabian as their clothes were flowing and in gorgeous colors with prized possessions in gold filtered about the room. When a boy in a green uniform opened the door he was shocked at what he was witnessing, the image seeming like something not from their country but a foreign one. He tripped over himself and stared up at the members in astonishment.

"Welcome to the Ouran Host Club," The club announced, all seated by each other with ripe, delicious fruits peeked in between and extravagant furniture.

"Oh it's just a kid," Hikaru noticed.

"Not only that, it's just a boy," Kaoru added, clearly the two disappointed.

"What's wrong little boy? Did you come to my palace in search of something?" Tamaki stuck out his hand with a golden ring and red gem resting in his palm.

"Uh, are you the king of this place?" The boy wondered, standing up from the ground.

"Come closer, lost one," Tamaki motioned for him to come over. "What was it you just called me?"

"The king."

"Ah, the King! Yes, I'm the king of the Ouran Host Club! Long live the host king."

"Oh no," Y/n whispered, looking at Tamaki who practically had stars in his eyes. He was standing up from his throne proudly, standing tall to pretend as if he were on a balcony surveying his kingdom.

"I'm an elementary fifth year, Takaoji Shiro," He introduced. "I want the Host Club King to take me on as an apprentice!"

Due to a successful flattering, soon enough the elementary school student was taken on as a co-host and offered the opportunity to watch Tamaki in action.

"Oh my, Tamaki, you have an apprentice?" A black-haired female wondered, sitting beside him.

"Yes, he's still in elementary school but I like the fire in his eyes.”

"But are you sure it's okay for such a young boy to become a host?"

"Why wouldn't it be? Love has nothing to do with age," Tamaki spoke, gently caressing her chin. "Take us for instance, whenever I look at you my heart starts pounding. Suddenly I feel no different than a lovesick little boy."

"Oh-oh Tamaki," The girl stuttered.

"Isn't it a little strange how Shiro-kun is just watching?" Y/n wondered, turning towards Haruhi and Kyoya who were also witnessing the whole scene go down. Shiro was in between Tamaki and his guest, face a little too close up to where Tamaki was touching her face.

"There is a theory that people are considered more beautiful the closer they are viewed. Tamaki seems to live by that theory," Kyoya told them. Y/n nodded in understanding and walked up closer to Kyoya. She put her face near his, their noses almost touching, before pulling away and sitting back down beside Haruhi.

He felt his cheeks warm up, "Well, ahem, let's leave them alone," He muttered, moving further away from where Y/n was now sitting.

"You naughty girl, you've drawn me to the forbidden fruit. Dearest you're the mermaid who's brought light into my lonely sea. My mermaid princess," Tamaki flirted.

"I remind you of a mermaid?" The girl asked.

"You look more like the carp that swims in my pond at home," The younger boy insulted. "I'd never give false compliments like that!"

"Carp?"

"Don't listen to him, he's just a kid, you know how kids are. They can't help but be honest," Tamaki tried to reassure her.

"Honest?"

"But that's just his opinion! I wouldn't say you look like a carp, and even if you did look like a carp you'd be the most beautiful carp of them all!" Tamaki spoke frantically.

"So I am a carp!"

"Uh, no that-that's not what I meant," Tamaki stuttered.

"Tamaki you're an idiot!" She cried, running out of the room embarrassed and ashamed.

"No wait! Mermaid princess!"

"Man, what a crybaby," Shiro commented, crossing his legs and arms in disappointment.

"So how's it going boss, that's an adorable little apprentice you've got there," Hikaru laughed.

"Hikaru, do you wish you had a little brother like Shiro?" Kaoru questioned.

"Don't be silly, I could search the globe and I'd never find a better brother than you, Kaoru," Hikaru expressed, taking his brother into his arms for a tight hug.

"Uh, Hikaru."

"Look! They're doing it! It's forbidden brotherly love," Two girls cooed.

"They're homos! And they're brothers! That makes this totally insectuous!" The boy yelled.

"I think what you mean to say was incestuous," Tamaki corrected.

"Hey Shiro-chan! Want to have a piece of cake with me?" Honey wondered, jumping onto the younger boy's back. "We've got three kinds, chocolate, strawberry, and lime."

"Hey! Back off, what grade are you in any way?” Shiro shook his back in an attempt to get Honey off of him. “Why are you wearing a High school uniform?" Shiro asked staring at Honey with a disgusted face. In response, Honey's eyes started to bubble with tears.

"Something is wrong? Mitsukuni?" Mori queried.

"Honey-senpai, are you alright?" Y/n questioned, walking over to the boy. "I'd love to have cake with you, we can talk while you eat," Y/n nodded, letting the boy grab her hand.

"That's not fair! A little kid like you isn't supposed to have a cool older friend and a hot girl like her!" Shiro complained, walking backward in annoyance until he was stopped due to bumping into Haruhi.

"Are you alright? I know it's kinda hard to get used to all the weirdos around here, besides Y/n. She's very kind," Haruhi looked up at Y/n who was now showing a book to Mori. "It took me a while to get adjusted to all the craziness, so don't freak out. I'm sure you'll get used to it," She tried to reassure him.

"Do you need help with that tea, Haruhi-chan?" Y/n inquired, walking over and grabbing some of the cups.

"Bend down," The elementary boy gestured for Y/n to come down to his height. "What's with the mask?" He moved his hand to hover over her mouth, about to try and snatch the fabric to see what was underneath.

"Okay that's enough," Tamaki grabbed Shrio from the back of his jacket, pulling him away. "Shiro, why don't you take care of the tea set?"

"Y/n, you're looking very nice today," Hikaru commented, patting her head.

"Just give the set to the boy and let him do his training," Kaoru mentioned.

"Okay, just be careful, it's kind of heavy," Y/n told him, handing him the tray that Haruhi was once holding. Shiro quickly dropped it, the glass silverware and cups shattering all over the floor.

"It's not my fault I dropped it, it's her fault because she gave it to you, causing you to give it to me," Shiro said, pointing to Haruhi.

"Wait what?" Haruhi’s eyes went wide, shaking her head and raising her voice at the young boy's accusations.

"Excuse me?" Y/n asked, her opinion on the boy changing vastly. It was clear he was not a well-behaved child, speaking his mind in cases where he should be holding back.

"That's another one hundred thousand yen Haruhi," Kyoya added.

"What?" She fumed.

"Have that mask girl do it, don't girls love doing that? I'm not here to carry tea sets, I'm here to learn how to make women happy!" He snarled.

"Repeat that?" Y/n walked over by him, getting pulled back a bit by the twins.

"You won't get anywhere with that attitude. And I am not going to let you disrespect Y/n. So, put this brat in isolation!" Tamaki declared, pointing his finger at the boy.

"You got it, boss!" The twins popped up, fingers in the air, and soon enough a cage was lowered down, trapping Shrio.

"What's going on here?! Why'd you put me in a cage all of a sudden?!" Shiro thundered.

"I don't know if we can do this," Y/n muttered.

"Where did it come from? This is supposed to be a music room, right?" Haruhi's sweat dropped.

"This is no way to treat your loyal apprentice! Now let me out of this cage!" Shiro thudded on the bars. He tried to reach a hand through to reach something or someone, even though nothing was near his grip.

"Not until you've learned your lesson," Tamaki told him, sipping some tea. "I made you my apprentice because I thought you were serious about becoming a host, but I guess I was wrong."

"I am serious. Totally serious," He argued, not jumping around in the cage as much as he once was.

"Are we going to let him out soon, if word gets out we keep people in cages, our family businesses will be in trouble," Y/n mentioned, looking around to see if anyone else would do something. With no one making the move she just sighed to herself and went over to the couch to read a novel.

"I want you to teach me how to make a woman happy!" He exclaimed. "I'm going to run out of time. Please, won't you teach me? You're a host because you like girls, you like bringing a smile to a girl's face. That's why you do it, right? Please won't you teach me how to be like you?" Shiro begged. "You're a genius at it, you're the king!"

"Well, you may be a brat, but I admire your desire to become a host, so I'll teach you!" Tamaki decided. "You know Shiro, you and I are so much alike.”

"Here we go," Y/n looked up from her book to see the gleaming Tamaki, his pridefulness returned.

"Then you'll help me become a host that can make any woman happy?" Shiro grinned.

"Of course, making women happy is the sole purpose of being a host," Tamaki explained. "If this is what you really want Shiro, then you'll have to figure out how to use the material you already have.”

"What does that mean?"

"You see, here at the Ouran Host Club, our policy is to use our individual personality traits to meet the needs of our guests," Kyoya began. "For example, there's Tamaki, who is the princely type, strong silent type, boy lolita type, little devil type, cool type, and natural type," Kyoya showed, lastly pointing to Haruhi. "Now we are complete with Y/n, the special, caring type," He finished, the group now standing next to each other.

"Special, caring?" Y/n repeated

"It would seem that right now we have a perfect blend of characteristics, so it's going to be difficult to find a new type for Shiro," Kyoya confessed.

"If you go by his age, he should be the boy Lolita type."

"But Honey-senpai already has that covered," Kaoru told his brother.

"Is he going to replace me?" Honey worried.

"He's more like a tsundere type," Y/n mentioned, moving over by Haruhi.

"Oh, come on, is that all you got?" A voice wondered, soon motor noises were heard and Renge, once again, appeared from the ground.

"What's up with this place, it's supposed to be a music room," Haruhi voiced to Y/n, Y/n just shaking her head.

"Not all rich people's buildings are like this," Y/n commented. "Though at my house, we have a fish tank that comes out of the ground."

"Sorry to interrupt gentleman, but what's with the lackluster character analysis? I must say I'm quite disappointed, I thought I taught you better," She expressed.

"Alright Miss manager, how would you work Shiro into our collection of characters?" Tamaki queried. “He can't be the boy Lolita because Honey's already got that covered."

"You just don't get it, do you? Now listen up, there are plenty of girls out there who have a thing for younger boys or boys with baby faces," Renge told the group. "These girls would be considered Shota fans. Now, Shota can be a fairly broad category so it's important to know that the genre can be broken down into many different smaller sub-categories," She pointed.

"For example, shota fans with an interest in Lolita boys would favor a boy like Haninozuka-senpai," Renge told the boys, most of them listening carefully, Kyoya taking notes and Y/n peaking over to look at his notes. "But this little boy is different. If I had to pick a character for him... Yes! He'd be the naughty boy type without a doubt,"

"So tsundere?" Y/n voiced, looking at her friend who was currently trying to stifle a laugh.

"The naughty type?" Shiro repeated, someone blowing a whistle.

"Now to play up the naughty type, you should wear shorts," Renge bent down, noticing that he was wearing shorts, and she blew the whistle again. "You've got to have bumps and bruises, give him some scars!" She encouraged the twins who were putting bandages and drawing marks on Shiro.

"I don't think that Shiro needs to"

"Run like a spoiled child! Make it reckless!" Renge demanded. "Now I want you to trip and make it big!" Shiro ran and tripped on a rope, landing harshly. "Are you okay little boy? Now give them your catchphrase!"

"No big deal, it was nothing," He responded proudly.

"That was perfect! Absolutely perfect Shiro!" Renge beamed.

"That was outstanding," Tamaki clapped. "I never knew you were such a great coach, Renge."

"I've had enough of you people," Shiro yelled, gaining the attention of everyone. "This is so stupid, none of this is ever gonna help me make her happy.”

"Her?" Y/n pondered, watching the boy run away.

"Wait, Shiro! We haven't taught you how to apply the techniques you've learned yet," Tamaki called out to him.

"I swear younger boys are good for nothing. I went to all that trouble to coach him and he quits," Renge complained, disappearing back into the ground.

"I can't believe he ditched us just because he didn't like the lesson, what a selfish little brat," Tamaki ranted, clearly annoyed at losing his apprentice.

"I don't think he wanted us to assign him a personality. He had said 'she', he wants to impress a specific girl." Y/n tried to reason with the upset Tamaki.

"Also, didn't you hear him mention that he was going to run out of time," Haruhi added. "What could that mean?"

Soon enough the club came up with a plan. They knew that the young boy needed some help and they were going to be the ones to do it, after all, he needed help impressing a girl and that was the club's specialty. Their genius plan was to send in Y/n and Honey as students at the elementary school in hopes of finding out more about Shiro and the mystery lady.

"I don't get why I'm a part of this," Y/n whispered, pouting underneath her mask.

"It will be okay N/n-chan. It was so easy to sneak in," Honey reassured her, wearing an elementary school uniform himself. "And wearing this uniform, I look like I'm in elementary school."

"Yeah I agree, I get why they wanted you. But I don't get why they needed me, I don't exactly resemble an elementary schooler with my size. Not to forget that I'm wearing a middle school uniform," Y/n looked down at her dress, and moved a hand to feel her braid. Along with the new outfit Y/n also had to put some dark blush on her cheeks, putting it on the parts that could be seen above her mask. "I don't get the point of these disguises."

In front of the two club members, some actual students just peered at them in confusion.

"Oh there's a reason, a damn good one," Tamaki muttered before Honey grabbed onto Y/n’s wrist and helped lead her down the hall.

"Isn't she the cutest!" The twins adored.

"I don't think Y/n is happy about this," Haruhi commented.

"Look at her in that miniskirt, Y/n looks like a model," Tamaki admired.

"So, basically you just wanted to see her dressed up like that," Kyoya realized, watching Tamaki peek at the two 'undercover' members walking down the hall. Though Honey and Y/n weren’t easily seen since by then they had already made it into the classroom.

"This is it, Shiro-chan's classroom," Honey told her, opening the door.

"Okay, let's try not to cause any more attention than we already have," Y/n told him.

"When I was in elementary school, this was my classroom too!" Honey ran around.

"Wait, there is no one here," Y/n whispered to herself.

"So the kid's classroom is empty, is it?" Tamaki walked in.

"This surely takes me back," The twins reminisced, wandering around the classroom. The club members all walked around, looking around the desks, at the chalkboard, and checking out the bookshelves, they were reminded of their childhoods.

"I wonder if my doodles are still on my desk," Kaoru wondered.

"Doubtful, the school changes out the desks every year," Kyoya informed them.

"Every year, at our schools they keep the same ones. If we were lucky they would somewhat clean them," Haruhi mentioned, following after them.

"If you guys are just walking in like nothing, what was the point of us wearing these?" Y/n pondered, gesturing down to her uniform in annoyance.

"Don't worry about it," Hikaru voiced.

"There's no one here to catch us," Kaoru reassured her. But as if he had just jinxed everyone, soon enough they could hear the echoing of footsteps in the hall. In the assumption that it was a teacher, they all ducked down under the desks.

"If the teacher finds us," Hikaru began.

"We'll have a hard time explaining how we snuck in," Kaoru finished.

"This is why I told you guys we should wait outside," Haruhi scolded them, while the twins then commented back, now the three first years bickering.

"Be quiet, we don't want the teacher finding us," Y/n warned them, putting a finger to her lips. They waited a few silent moments before they could recognize that the footsteps had dispersed. Just to be sure, Y/n got up first and checked around before signaling everyone else to come out, "He's gone, but how are we going to find Shiro-kun?" She queried.

"Well, here's something interesting," Kyoya stated, looking at photos. The rest of the members surrounded Kyoya, all filing up beside him to look at what he had found.

"What did you find?" Haruhi questioned and in response, Kyoya pointed to a certain photo. "Hey! That's Shiro."

"So he's into classical music."

"He's also with a girl. Maybe that's the girl he was talking about," Y/n realized, turning around and looking at the group.

"There's Shiro-chan!" Honey pointed out to a classroom near the one they were in. He was seen talking with a girl before she had moved over to a piano bench to start playing. At the notice of another elementary girl from the same class exiting the classroom, Tamaki walked over to her.

"Excuse me, Mademoiselle," Tamaki started, catching her attention. "I've never seen a rose more lovely than you, my dear. Here, this is for you," He offered up the flower, bowing a little and then shortening his stance so they were more eye level. "I was wondering if you could tell me anything about that young lady playing the piano. Do you know her?"

"That's Kameeshido, Hina," The little girl told him.

"Her name is Hina?" Tamaki repeated.

"That's right, but you better not fall in love with her."

"Why?"

"Didn't you know? Hina has to move away soon. Her dad just got a new job in Germany, so they have to move there at the end of the week," She told him, waltzing away while smelling the pretty flower.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Shiro yelled. "I want you idiots to leave immediately!" He rushed over to where the group was, face as red as a beet. But Tamaki made no reaction, just picked up the smaller boy and put him over his shoulder. "Put me down! What are you doing? Ah!" Tamaki made no hesitation in making the way out of the building with the rest of the club following behind, still carrying the flailing boy.

"It's time to go, gentleman, Y/n,” He paused for a few seconds, turning his head around the best he could to peer at Shiro, “Quit thrashing around," Tamaki deadpanned.

Once they all finally made their way back to Ouran Highschool Tamaki had just plopped the boy onto the sofa.

"What is your problem, you big idiot!" Shiro snapped.

"I'm sorry, but you're the idiot. You said you wanted me to teach you how to make women happy. But that's not it, is it? You're not concerned with the happiness of just any woman. You've got your sights set on one woman in particular. You only care about one, and that's Kamishiro Hina," Tamaki objected. "When you care for someone, you must find the courage to express what is in your heart. You have to tell her how you feel about her."

"It doesn't matter anymore, I've run out of time. I just wanted to hear her play before she left for good, that's all," Shiro expressed, staring at his hands in his lap, refusing to make eye contact with Tamaki.

"That piece she played, it's Mozart Sonata in D major for two pianos, isn't it?" Tamaki wondered, walking over to a curtain in the corner and pulling it back to show a beautiful, shining piano.

Haruhi turned towards Y/n, "Wait a minute, since when is there a grand piano in here?"

"Well, this is a music room after all," Kaoru told her, shrugging his shoulders.

"So, why wouldn't it have a grand piano?" Hikaru asked her.

"It is a music room," Kyoya asserted.

"It is a music room," Mori repeated.

"It's always been there, we just had it covered up," Honey explained happily bouncing over to where the piano stayed.

"It's such a nice piano too," Y/n admired taking a few steps to the musical instrument herself. She placed a hand on the top, admiring the keys, and before reaching over to play one Tamaki had taken a spot on the bench. He peered up at the girl, a soft smile on his features, and began to play himself. Shiro watched Tamaki in his prime who was playing a mystical piece and taking multiple peaks up to look over at Y/n’s expression.

Whenever there was an ounce of free time Shiro would be right on the bench learning to mimic the rapid finger movements that Tamaki possessed, all working towards completing the goal of expressing himself to Hina.

It didn’t take long, with all the effort and time Tamaki had taken to teach the young boy soon enough he was prepared to play the piece himself. On a special day, the host club invited Hina to come to Music Room 3, dressing up for the young girl in anticipation of the cute moment that awaited.

"Welcome princess, we've been waiting," They all announced.

"I present to you, Takaoji Shiro’s piano recital," Tamaki introduced. He took Hina’s much smaller arm in his own, joining together at the arm, and pushed out a seat for her to sit near the piano and Shiro.

"Let's play together Hina," Shiro stated, and very happily the girl obliged. She pulled up her chair more to the other piano starting to play while he played his. It was a truly beautiful musical melody, the two kids glancing back at one another while passionately playing the piece. It was a comforting and rewarding scene for the club to witness. Just the two gleeful children indulging in some musical enjoyment.

"We did a good thing," Tamaki observed the two, with a smile on his face. Y/n looked at him, her eyes scrunched up a bit to show she was smiling underneath the mask. It was on this day she got to peak into Tamaki’s interior a bit more, he was a man who had such a large passion for guiding others.

"You did Tamaki-senpai, you aren't too bad," She laughed as a small blush appeared on his cheeks with a certain admiration sparkling in his eyes.

A week later Shiro came in to see the host club once again.

"So, you've been exchanging emails with Hina now that she's in Germany?" Haruhi inquired.

"That's great Shiro-kun," Y/n complemented.

"Yeah, I like her but she can get pretty jealous for an elementary school girl. She'd be upset if she knew I was with you ladies, so let's keep this our little secret," He confessed to the girls surrounding him on the couch and nearby chairs.

"Naughty boys are the best!"

"I could kiss you."

"Ah, you little brat, those are my guests!" Tamaki fumed.

"Well it looks like they have found someone they like better," Shiro voiced. "It was so easy to steal your customers, I think there's a new host king in town."

"I thought he'd make it through without exploding this time," Kaoru and his brother expressed holding down the blonde.

"We should have known he was gonna blow up sooner or later," Hikaru realized.

"I'm going to assume Tamaki-senpai was also a spoiled brat as a child," Y/n declared, making her way over to Kyoya.

"I was not a spoiled brat! I was nothing like him when I was a kid! I was a sweet, innocent, precocious, adorable child," He whined.

"Of course senpai," Y/n voiced sarcastically. "And I was living in a commoner's home growing up," To this comment the twins broke out in loud laughter.

"Wait what does that mean? Do you not believe me? Wait Y/n!"

next chapter - Jungle Pool SOS!

27 notes · View notes

esther-dot · 10 months

Note

Idk how attractive jon is supposed to be but he has the stark look and sansa has a thing for the stark look, i mean look at waymar and loras, their descriptions match jon's exactly. Sansa's opinion at the end of the day>>>

I love Sansa’s Waymar and Loras crushes! So cute! I kinda think a good part of what attracts Sansa to any given guy is the romantic notions she can attach to them, not strictly their physical appearance? So while I certainly agree with the Jon and Waymar parallels and think martin intentionally wrote similarities between Jon and her crushes, I believe her romanticized view of knight was a factor as well. Personally, I wish Martin talked about Sansa’s body/ how beautiful she is a lot less, so this isn't a topic I enjoy discussing, but the convo kicked off because of a poll and here’s a screenshot of my totally unremarkable tags:

And here’s what an angry Jon fan posted because they didn’t like the tags on the poll:

They go on to criticize other tags by Sansa fans/Jonsas, but mine were based on specific lines from the books because the question wasn’t vibes but canonical beauty, and it so happens, these are lines I am very fond of because I love NedCat:

And was it really such a terrible thing, to want a pretty wife? She remembered her own childish disappointment, the first time she had laid eyes on Eddard Stark. She had pictured him as a younger version of his brother Brandon, but that was wrong. Ned was shorter and plainer of face, and so somber. He spoke courteously enough, but beneath the words she sensed a coolness that was all at odds with Brandon, whose mirths had been as wild as his rages. Even when he took her maidenhood, their love had more of duty to it than of passion. We made Robb that night, though; we made a king together. And after the war, at Winterfell, I had love enough for any woman, once I found the good sweet heart beneath Ned's solemn face. (ASOS, Catelyn V)

It’s a beautiful passage with a lovely sentiment, so I take exception to classifying this as petty fandom shit when there was nothing intentionally insulting behind what I said, I just think Cat's thoughts about a man she dearly loves were pertinent. Also, Jon’s Stark looks are a big R+L=J clue which is teased a lot in AGOT so it’s intentional and important:

The boy absorbed that all in silence. He had the Stark face if not the name: long, solemn, guarded, a face that gave nothing away. Whoever his mother had been, she had left little of herself in her son. "What are you reading about?" he asked. (AGOT, Tyrion II)

Martin described Jon’s face the same way he does Ned’s here, although the point was ha ha! he has the Stark look not because of his father but because of his mother, Lyanna.

Jon had their father's face, as she did. They were the only ones. Robb and Sansa and Bran and even little Rickon all took after the Tullys, with easy smiles and fire in their hair. (AGOT, Arya I)

Arya heard and whirled around, glaring. "I don't care what you say, I'm going out riding." Her long horsey face got the stubborn look that meant she was going to do something willful. (AGOT, Sansa I)

Sansa could never understand how two sisters, born only two years apart, could be so different. It would have been easier if Arya had been a bastard, like their half brother Jon. She even looked like Jon, with the long face and brown hair of the Starks, and nothing of their lady mother in her face or her coloring. (AGOT, Sansa I)

"Lyanna might have carried a sword, if my lord father had allowed it. You remind me of her sometimes. You even look like her." (AGOT, Arya II)

Now, Ned goes on to say Lyanna is beautiful so a lot of fans really emphasize that and say it means Jon and Arya are/will be attractive, and maybe! It doesn't bother me for people to read it that way, but if you look at the other uses of long face in ASOIAF, or the Stark look, I think it indicates, it's not particularly attractive, and one might even say, it's unremarkable. I didn’t say ugly, its simply unexceptional imo. Obviously the horsey face/horse faced stuff is an insult so we don't have to take that to be a neutral assessment, but I don't think it actually means pretty either, not when you look at how it's used elsewhere.

Anyway, it doesn't matter if Jon is handsome or not because we all were supposed to have already learned that what matters is who he is, not his face. So, while I have no investment in how attractive/unattractive these characters are, I imagine that Jon being Jon is what will make Sansa fall for him, not how pretty he is. Something that might sound kinda like this:

I had love enough for any woman, once I found the good sweet heart beneath Ned's Jon's solemn face

#jonsa #nedcat #r+l=j #book jon #dot chat #discourse #< for filtering

94 notes · View notes

chasingmidnights · 3 months

Text

An Offshore Love - Part Two

Title: Delicate

Summary: While on the job, you made yourself one rule: no dating. But when you meet Ari, you consider throwing that rule out the window. But will you?

Warnings: First things first, this is 18+, minors DNI!! Things to look out for in this part would include: Lee being a bit of a jerk; Ari Levinson (yes, he’s a warning); some implied sexual content; minor cursing; and I think that’s everything. I apologize if I missed anything but you are responsible for what you read and your own media consumption. I do not claim to be a professional writer, any and all mistakes are my own; nothing is beta read.

Wordcount: 3,941

You stood off to the side with Jake as Lee gave the next crew their briefing and their assignments for the day. You listened to how he spoke to the men and you cringed internally with the way he talked to his crew. No wonder this rig was in rough shape, they had a manager who thought they were disposable and easily replaced. Lee’s southern drawl barked out orders and as you glanced out to the men, you could see the life being sucked out of them the longer Lee talked. This isn’t the first time that you’ve seen this and you made several mental notes about Lee and his behavior, you would be discussing with him at a later time. As you stood off to the side, you could feel the crew’s curiosity as you caught several of the men glancing your way. You looked down at your watch and found yourself wondering how much longer Lee was going to talk before he finally mentioned you and why you were here at The Jupiter. Lee was in the middle of handing out orders when one of the crew members interrupted him.

“Who’s the skirt and her lap dog?”

You had to keep a straight face as Jake stifled a laugh and Lee rolled his eyes at the interruption.

“Well, if you had waited a few more minutes for me to finish my briefing Curtis, you would’ve been introduced.” Lee snapped back, narrowing his gaze.

You wanted to slap Lee for the way he talked to his men. Sure the guy had interrupted, but Lee could’ve been the better man and not have been so rude to him. You didn’t blame them for being so curious, you had been standing off to the side for nearly twenty minutes. You hoped that the other rig drillers weren't as uncompassionate as Lee, a bad manager can be the sole cause alone for a crew not to care and to not give their one hundred percent.

“But since you’re asking, these two are here from Baizen Oil Industries, hopefully to get your asses whipped back into shape.” Lee introduced before he motioned for you and Jake to come over.

“Thank you, Mr. Bodecker, although I’m not sure I would’ve exactly phrased it like that.” You said as you took front and center. You introduced yourself before you introduced Jake as your assistant. “Mr. Baizen informed us that this is one of the more problematic offshore oil rigs that the company owns and my assistant and I are here to find out why. Jake and I are here to check on quality of life, to make sure safety protocols are up to date and possibly rearrange crew and management if we feel it necessary.”

“My quality of life just got better with you being here, sweetheart!” One of the crew members shouted, causing a few of the others to chuckle.

You were about to put that man in his place when his comment was quickly followed by a groan as another crew member slapped him on the back of the head.

“Show the lady some respect, Lloyd,” The other man growled. He then gave you a small nod for you to continue.

As the two of you made eye contact, you almost forgot where you were for a moment. Sure, you had seen blue eyes before but his were different. His reminded you of the ocean, that deep blue color and you had a hard time looking away from the man. You cleared your throat before you started talking again, bringing your attention back to the whole group.

“Right, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, there are a few things that I won’t allow. I won’t allow any form of disrespect.” You paused for a moment as you shot the man, Lloyd, a look before you continued. “I will also not tolerate laziness or tardiness. At the end of my time here, I hope to turn this whole rig around and make it less problematic for everyone’s benefits.”

“And what makes you so qualified?” The man with the ocean eyes asked, crossing his strong arms across his chest. You couldn’t help but notice that as he did that, the material of his shirt bulged from his muscular arms.

“Well, Mr.?” You started.

“Levinson. Ari Levinson.” Blue eyes introduced himself.

“Mr. Levinson, that’s an excellent question. I've been working for Baizen Oil Industries for the last ten years and the last five years going around to different rigs and doing exactly this kind of work.” You did your best to sound as confident as possible but with the way Ari was staring at you, it was hard.

The small, barely noticeable smirk on the corner of his mouth to his piercing stare caused a warmth to form in your body. You hoped that as you stared back at him, he couldn’t tell that he was having an affect on you.

“Alright you lazy lot, time to get back to work.” Lee finally said, interrupting the moment you and Ari were having.

The group of men then dispersed and headed off to do their jobs for the day. You let out a small sigh as you broke eye contact from Arri as he turned to leave, however the feeling that he had given you lingered. Your thoughts started to wander but you were quickly pulled out of them when Lee spoke up again.

“Ready for a day filled with meetings and training?”

You internally groaned at having to be in meetings all day, but since this was your job, you knew you had to suck it up. Besides, it was either this or being stuck at a desk back at the main office. But after meeting Ari, you would much rather be daydreaming about him, but since that wasn’t an option, you forced a smile and answered.

“Lead the way, Mr. Bodecker.”

After a long day of meetings and a few different safety training sessions, you were glad to get a moment to yourself. Well, almost a moment to yourself, Jake’s typing reminded you that you weren’t alone just yet. You had just finished up your last meeting and wanted nothing more than to take off your shoes and put your feet up. As you pinched the bridge of your nose, you tried to disassociate for a moment, but when Jake spoke up, you were brought back to reality.

“You alright there, boss?”

You let out a small sigh as you released the bridge of your nose. “Yeah, just been a long day.”

Jake nodded, seemingly accepting your answer. “It’s definitely been a long day, I don’t think we even breaked for lunch.”

As you thought about what Jake said, you knew he was right, especially when your stomach started to growl. A small laugh escaped you and you couldn’t believe you worked through lunch.

“Well, why don’t you go ahead and head to dinner while I clean up here? I’ll join you shortly.” You suggested as you started to organize and clean up.

“You sure boss? I can stay and help.” Jake offered as he watched you.

You had just started making different piles as you sorted through each piece of paper, you had gone through a good chunk of the rig’s books during some of these meetings. “I’m positive. Besides, you don’t know my system.”

“I’m a fast learner.” Jake countered, a bit curious as to what your system was exactly.

“Really Jake, I’m fine. Maybe I’ll teach you another day, but I really just want to get this done.” You said as you continued to sort.

“Alright, alright, if you insist. I’ll see you in a bit.” Jake said as he packed up his laptop and started to leave.

You gave Jake a small smile as he left, you couldn’t help but appreciate his willingness to learn. Honestly though, if you had taken him up on his offer to help, it would’ve taken twice as long to sort through everything. As you sorted, you tried not to think about anything in particular, wanting to give your brain a break after the long day that you just had. However, you didn’t exactly succeed as Ari popped into your mind, which didn’t exactly complain about. Ari was probably the only good thing about this oil rig, even though you barely knew the man. You couldn’t help but find him extremely attractive and exactly your type. The six foot, five inches of a man and he was big and burly as well. His long, shaggy brown hair and full beard suited him well, you especially like the beard. You wondered what it would feel like to have his face in between your legs and his beard rubbing - no, stop that. You quickly scolded yourself for that type of thinking. Years ago, you gave yourself one rule, no dating any of the men you meet while working on these oil rigs. A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you reminded yourself of this, this was going to be an interesting time here on The Jupiter.

When you were finally done organizing, you collected your things and put them in your bag before locking the door behind you as you left the office. You did your best to memorize your way to the offices so that you could get back to the Hub on your own. However, as you turned a corner and walked down the dimly lit hall, you opened the door when you reached it, but it wasn’t the right door. It opened up to what looked like the stem of the oil rig. You could just barely make out a metal staircase that was attached to the concrete wall and it spiraled down to the bottom. Wind howled through the funnell, giving you goosebumps but you couldn’t help yourself and found yourself peeking further into the concrete leg. After all of these years, you had never actually been inside one of these things, you knew they were hollow but that’s all you knew. You were just about to take a step forward to take another look, when you were suddenly being pulled back, causing you to gasp as you were pinned to the wall, an unhappy Ari glaring at you.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, uh? Do you realize you could’ve gotten hurt going in there?” Ari’s nostrils flared as he tightly held onto you.

You couldn’t help but feel incredibly small right now as Ari scolded you like a child.

“Sorry, I got lost.”

Ari scoffed at your answer as he let go of you. “Where were you trying to get too?”

“Back to the Hub for dinner. I got turned around.” You explained, watching Ari as h took a step back and ran his fingers through his hair.

Ari took a deep breath and exhaled it with a huff. “Come on, Rogue, follow me and I’ll take you safely back to the Hub.”

You scrunched up your face at the nickname that he just gave you before you corrected him and told him your name again.

“I know, I didn’t forget. I like Rogue better.” Ari replied with a smirk. “Now come on, let’s get going.”

Butterflies started to form in your stomach, he had given you a nickname. Granted, you had no idea where it came from or the meaning behind it and you made a mental note to ask him, but it was a nickname nonetheless. As Ari led you back to the Hub, you did your best to memorize the path that he took, but he moved so quickly and effortlessly that your main focus was to keep up with him. As the two of you were walking through the rig, you ended up tripping over a raised threshold. However, before you fell on your face, Ari had caught you.

“Careful, you alright?” Ari asked as he helped you over the threshold.

“Yeah, just clumsy I guess.” You said as you looked up at him, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms.

For a moment though, it felt as if time stood still as the two of you looked into each other’s eyes. Your heart began to race and you thought it was going to burst out of your chest with how fast it was racing. You had never felt such a connection or so strongly towards a guy before, at least not in a really long time. Also for a moment, it felt as if the two of you were about to kiss, but instead of that, Ari pulled away and let go of you. A wave of disappointment washed over you and you did your best not to let it show.

“You’re gonna be trouble, aren’t you Rogue?” Ari asked before he stood tall and combed his fingers through his thick hair.

You cleared your throat, not knowing how to respond to his question even though you had a feeling it was a rhetorical one. So, you thought it best to change the subject.

“So, how long have you been working here?”

A small smirk formed on the corner of his mouth. “This way.” Ari said as he pointed left. “And I’ve been working here for about eleven years.”

“Do you like it?” You asked, genuinely curious.

Ari glanced over at you, not expecting you to make this kind of conversation. “It’s not horrible. The job pays well and every couple of weeks I get to go to the mainland to recharge, see family if I want to.”

You nod your head along to what he was saying. “How do you feel about Mr. Bodecker as your manager?”

Ari stopped at your question before he spun around to face you. Once you saw the look on his face, you could tell that he was upset.

“What’s your game here?” He practically growled as his eyes narrowed at you.

You’re a bit taken aback at his reaction. “M-my game? I was only curious. If you ask me, he seems like a complete ass.”

Ari chuckled at your comment. “You’re not wrong about that, but around here, if you know what’s best for ya, you keep your mouth shut.”

The situation was a lot worse than you thought.

“Right, got it.” You said with a nod, dropping the matter almost instantly.

The rest of the way to the Hub was quiet. You thought about what Ari had said and pondered how to move forward, it was clear that Lee Bodecker was the problem.

The passion and pleasure that you were feeling almost felt too good to be true as you and Ari kissed each other hungrily. The feeling of his large hands roaming your body, squeezing you here and there, causing your body to heat up with every touch. Ari had you pinned against the door of his sleeping quarters and you were loving every minute of it, you didn’t want it to end. You let out a squeal as he picked you up and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. You weren’t sure why or when you decided to throw out your rule but at this exact moment, you really didn’t care as Ari gently laid you down on the mattress. The two of you pulled apart for a brief moment and as the two of you looked longingly at each other, it felt as if time ceased to exist. You knew things would be delicate after this but frankly, you just didn’t care. As things were about to continue, an annoying alarm started to go off. You squinted at Ari confused as to why there was an alarm going off. You leaned into his touch as he cupped your cheek, he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before he spoke up, his voice deep and raspy.

“It’s time to wake up, sweetheart.”

“What if I don’t wanna?” You questioned as you tried to steady your breathing.

Ari smirked, letting out a small chuckle before placing another kiss to your forehead. “You don’t really have a choice, sweetheart.”

You groaned as your dream started to fade and your eyes were met with a dimly lit room. You immediately felt cold as you were no longer in Ari’s embrace, even if it was just a dream. The alarm was still going off and you wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. A heavy sigh left your lips before you reached over to finally shut it off, slamming it a little harder than you meant too.

“God, was wondering when you were going to shut that awful thing off.” Jake commented as you saw already ready for the day.

“How long have you been up?” You asked as you sat up, stretching as you did.

Jake shrugged his shoulders. “About half an hour.”

“Early riser?” You questioned as you started to get up and ready yourself.

“Kinda. But honestly, I just don’t sleep well outside of my own bed.” Jake answered. He then stood up, grabbing his backpack as he did before continuing. “Room’s yours, I’ll see you down at breakfast.”

You gave Jake a nod of the head as he left the room before you laid back on your bed. You let out a groan as you ran a hand down your face once Jake had closed the door.

“Maybe a cold shower this morning.” You mumbled to yourself as you sat up again and started to get ready for the long day ahead.

Later that day, you and Jake found yourselves being shown some of the training that the men have to go through. As you walked in on one of the training sessions, you found Ari instructing a course and you found yourself staring at the man, remembering your dream from that morning. For a moment, you had almost forgotten where you were and you had to pull yourself out of that headspace. As you watched Ari giving the instructions, you could tell that the men that he was teaching were following his every word. You made several notes and scribbled a few of them down on your notepad. While you were writing down your notes, you could feel a pair of eyes on you. You did your best to be as subtle as possible as you glanced up and you were met with Ari’s beautiful blue eyes looking at you. You quickly tore your gaze away from him to finish your notes, but that didn’t stop the butterflies from forming. How in the world did this man have such a powerful grip on you? You were usually pretty level headed about this sort of thing but for some reason, Ari was different. You wanted to throw all caution to the wind and not care how complicated or delicate things might become afterwards.

You hadn’t realized how lost in your thoughts you’d been until Jake nudged you in your side. The small class that Ari had been teaching a safety training was being dismissed and the supervisor who had been showing you and Jake around was now talking to Ari. You couldn’t help but feel as if the two men were talking about you and Jake as they whispered and glanced your way every so often.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Jake leaned over and whispered into your ear.

“Shush, they’re coming back.” You answered quickly, nudging him in the side, like he did you moments ago.

The original supervisor walked right by you and Jake and you were about to say something when Ari stopped in front of the two of you.

“So, I guess I’m taking over for Mr. Humphrey, so you better keep up, don’t get lost, and don’t get hurt.” Ari said as he then pushed past the two of you.

Throughout the morning, Ari showed you various stations and talked about the importance of each one. You even witnessed a few of the men jumping off of the rig in full scuba equipment to work on something below. When you watched them jump, a shiver crawled down your spine, sure you could visit offshore oil rigs and even stay on them, but you couldn’t do half of what these men do on a daily basis. Every now and then, Jak would make small comments of wonderment and even asked Ari a few questions. As Ari went through the basic day-to-day with you and Jake, you made several notes, both mentally as well as short-handing some notes on your notepad.You also did your best not to stare at Ari’s ass as you walked behind him, though it was hard, especially since he had a masterpiece of an ass.

When lunch time came around, Ari said we could take a break but he was going to continue with his work. You couldn’t help but admire that, you could tell he was a hard worker and you could see him being a great leader. Jake had already started to head back to the Hub, when you decided to stay behind and talk to Ari.

“Ari, can we talk?” You asked as you placed your folder that contained your notepad in front of you, holding it against your chest.

Ari stopped and turned to face you, placing his hands on his hips. ‘God, he looked amazing,’ you thought to yourself as he did that.

“Sure, about what? What you’ve been making little notes on, Rogue?”

It was like he read right through you as he took a step forward. Your words seemed to fail you and all you could do was nod your head. Ari reached for your folder and took it from you, thankfully it only had today’s notes in it. Your heart raced as Ari read through your notes, his face unreadable and you felt like a fish trapped in a net.

“You really think all of this about me? You barely know me.” Ari said as he finally handed you your folder back.

You cleared your throat as you finally found your voice again. “I have a pretty good judgment of character, part of what makes me good at my job.”

Ari nodded his head at your answer as he took another step forward. “You really think I would make a good leader?”

“I do. The men seem to respect you and you seem to actually care about what you do and that things are done correctly.” You managed to get out, you’re not sure how because it felt like you had peanut butter on the roof of your mouth.

You’re not quite sure how it happened, and not that you were complaining, but you found yourself in a similar situation from your dream this morning. Ari had you pinned against the back of an office door that wasn’t too far from where you were. The two of you kissed each other hungrily and his tongue easily dominated yours with ease and you gladly let him. Your body was on fire as Ari roamed his hands all over it, eventually stopping on your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. You did your best to block out any irrational thought, or maybe it was rational but your brain was too muddled as Ari lifted you up and carried you over to an empty desk. Right now, all you cared about was enjoying this moment with Ari and nothing else. You knew deep down though just how delicate things between the two of you was going to be, but as Ari started to remove your shirt, you simply didn’t care.

#an offshore love #an offshore love mini series #mini series #part two #an offshore love part two #ari levinson #ari levison x reader #ari levinson mini series #roughneck!ari levinson x reader #roughneck!ari levinson #ari levison x f!reader #ari levinson fandom #ari levinson fanfiction #chris evans characters #chris evans fandom

34 notes · View notes

maddipoof · 1 year

Text

Room 217

Steve and his girlfriend just having a lovely moment in a hotel. Lots of banter, lots of teasing, every old woman wants Steve to propose, like yesterday, and John Mellencamp. CWs: No y/n, reader uses she/her pronouns and there are no descriptions besides wet hair. Old ladies being weird, mentions of skiing and they have a dog. Some references to the shining as well, also I've never been to colorado so if i get the 2 things I said about it wrong you have my endless apologies. If I missed anything, let me know and I'll add it here, also if you're any kind if enby and you would rather this with any other pronouns, as a fellow gender blender demifemme feels right atm, I'm more than happy to oblige and repost with whatever you'd prefer.

March, 1992

Steve thought he’d pay a visit to the nice ladies in the mailroom that afternoon after work, he’d been having a pretty good day so far, why not share the joy? “Hello, ladies. How’s today been treatin’ you two?” he asked them over the counter.

“Not too busy, thank you for asking. Always so charming isn’t he?” Mrs. Smith asked Mrs. Lowe, both their white hairs deflating by now from the curled, permed coifs they shaped and gelled and sprayed every morning.

“Oh yes, oh, and Steve, we saw your girl this morning. Looking lovely as ever.”

“Mhm, we saw her, but no ring.” Mrs. Smith reminded him again, twisting her own 2 carat diamond around her finger. Just 2 weeks ago she told him the whole story about it, how Mr. Smith scrimped and saved for ages to afford it, including selling his favorite tractor, to which they both side eyed his BMW through the window.

“Oh, Deirdre, didn’t you see her with a ring catalog this morning?” Mrs. Lowe asked her, both of them poorly hiding their schemes.

“I do think I did. I’d take notice of these things if I were you, Steve. How long have you been together again?”

“I’ve known her for 9 years, we’ve been together for 5, Mrs. Smith.” He wasn’t hurt by them asking again, in fact he expected it, as much as his tone expressed it. “And yes, I do notice, which is why I’ve been coming home so late these last few days, I need a bit more than 30 hours a week to afford this place and a ring.”

He saw the sneaky smiles on their faces as they wheeled around in their office chairs to get his mail. A few deliveries and a blush colored envelope with a floral postage stamp in the corner, a wax seal on the front. “Ooh, a wedding invitation?” Mrs. Lowe teased.

Steve nodded as he read the return address, “Looks like it’s from her cousin.” He checked his wrist watch and realized his girlfriend must have been expecting him, “I better be going, don’t want to be late for dinner.”

“Oh, you two going out?”

“No, staying in tonight, making risotto.”

Mrs. Smith gasped, “My recipe?”

“I think so.”

“Oh you watch out for that one, Steve, I used that recipe once and 9 months later I had Joey and Hannah,” Mrs. Lowe added.

Steve huffed a laugh. “You are bad.”

“Watch it Harrington.” “It’s very easy for mail to get lost down here.” “Packages stolen,” they joked back before waving him upstairs and calling for him to send their hellos to his girl.

“Hey, gorgeous, where you at?” He finally got to the fifth floor and held the door open with his foot while he took the keys out of the knob. “We got a fuck ton of mail.”

But he didn’t see any sign of her or their dog, Leo, a big black lab, anywhere. “Babe?” He walked further into the kitchen of their cramped apartment. Leo’s leash was gone too, but there was a scratchy note left on the counter, probably left in a rush accounting for the scribbly handwriting.

Hello my love, I hope you had a wonderful day. I was going to wait for you but Leo got antsy so I’m taking him for a walk. We’ll be back by 6:30 I promise —xoxo

It was already 6:25, and by the time he was worried enough to grab his sweatshirt and go out to look for her, there was already an incessant scratching at the door and a giggle of ‘I’m trying, I’m trying. Relax buddy, I gotta get my keys.’

It clearly sounded like a struggle, Steve assumed her keys must have been deeper in her pocket than she remembered. He could have waited and let her unlock the door herself, but the excitement to see her was too much to bear. Also because he didn’t want any complaints from the landlord about scratched paint on the door.

He heard her surprised little gasp when the handle turned from the other side, ‘Is Stevie home?’ He heard Leo make some sound like E.T. would have made in response, as well as the slamming of his tail on her leg.

“It’s 6:30.”

“What? No ‘hello’? No ‘how are you my beautiful, gorgeous, angel of a darling? Every hour in your absence has been agony.’ And here I was, thinking you were such a romantic.” She hung the leash up while Leo was shoving himself against Steve’s leg to get more attention and pets. She was about to walk out of the teeny tiny foyer after taking her shoes off but Steve caught her by the arm before she got the chance. Leo got out of the way while he pulled her shoulder into his chest, both hands on the other one furthest from him.

“Hello,” and she expected his usual schtick of saying everything she said back to her, a little teasing but she could always hear the truth underneath. “My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die.”

“Steve,” she groaned and pushed him off of her and into the coats, “You’re supposed to love me, not kill me. I don’t even have six fingers on my right hand.” She got louder as she walked further away, “And besides, you’re much more of a Westley anyway.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“How so? Wait, farm boy Westley or Pirate Westley?”

“Oh, Pirate Westley, definitely.”

He silently shooed her out of the kitchen and fed Leo before washing his hands and starting on their own dinner while she explained.

“I don’t know, you just love too much to be an Inigo, too smart to be him, also you know I love you but you have like zero loyalty to your father and you shouldn’t anyway, so definitely a Westley.”

“Like I’d carry you through the fire swamp and everything?”

“And everything.” Leo laid at her feet while she went through the mail on the couch, sinking deep into the cushions that were probably older than her since it was a hand-me-down from Hopper when he moved in with Joyce at the same time they moved into their apartment. A sparkling seal caught her eye. “A wedding invitation?”

“I was waiting for you to open it, I think it’s from your cousin.”

“Hm. Mr. Joseph and Mrs. Deanna Sampson cordially invite you to a renewal of their vows, the 12th of December, 1992, Colorado Springs, Colorado. It’s at a hotel, like the Shining.”

“Oh that cousin?” The renewal of vows is what caught his attention. “Must be a small venue then.”

“Not funny, Steven,” she didn’t take her eyes off her lap where she flipped through the details of the invitation but the slight quirk of her lip that Steve was always able to clock betrayed her amusement. A wedding with ample opportunity for skiing, her cousin’s husband, and now by extension her cousin, are kind of rich, at least his family is, so they're renting the biggest, nicest, fanciest lodge for the day and having the wedding and reception there. “I’d totally have a small wedding first with just the people I want there then a bigger one for all the people that are mad they didn’t make the cut.”

“Who’d be at this wedding? The small one.”

“Dustin, Eddie, Robin, the kids, Joyce and Hopper, and maybe my parents, I haven't decided.”

He knew he was pushing his luck asking this, but the ladies of the mail room planted a strong idea in his head and he just couldn’t let it go. “I’m not there?” but he stayed facing the near boiling pot.

“I thought you were a given,” She said so casually. Only looking at him when the clatter of the spoon falling on the floor pulled her attention his way. They’d discussed it before, in passing mostly. Saying a marriage and a family is something they both want, but he’d never heard her say it like that. Like marrying him is the only option she’d ever choose. Like he’s always going to be the obvious choice. “So we’re going?”

“Hm?”

“To the wedding?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. Deanna’s the best.”

December, 1992

They arrived two days before the wedding, Steve wanted to get more use out of his skis. She liked them because the bottoms were bright pink and she could find him anywhere. Checking in was a bear though. The mailroom part 2 for him since y/n was at a payphone to check in with Dustin about Leo.

“How can I help you, sir?” The woman who looked to be around Joyce’s age asked.

“Uh, I’d like to check in, please. Should be under Harrington.”

She scrolled through the system to find it, “Oh yes, you’re here for the wedding? Bride or groom?”

“Bride, she’s cousins with my-”

“You’re wife? I’ll get you an extra key then, one for both of you.”

“Thank you.”

“Enjoy your stay, room 217.”

“Thank you.”

***

“God, I’m exhausted.” Y/n threw herself down on the bed, wet hair and all. Everything about this room was so much bigger than their apartment. The bed, the bathtub; the kitchen was smaller though, but there was a much bigger space as a sort of living room. The fake fire was going and the tv above it was stuck on one of those MTV channels, the ones that only play music with slideshows of various album covers, because they couldn’t figure out the remote. She called the lobby about it and found Steve must have made quite an impression in the few days they’ve been there. “Hi, we’re in room 217, our remote kind of broke and it’s stuck on one channel.” “217, hmm… Oh you must be Steve’s wife, he’s quite the charmer down here.” “He usually is. Um, is there anyone who can help us with this?” “Unfortunately not at the moment, but we can send someone up first thing in the morning, just give us a ring and we’ll send maintenance right up there.” “Will do, thank you.” “Mhm, have a lovely night Mrs. Harrington.” “You as well.”

Steve came out of the bathroom with a cloud of steam surrounding him and a fluffy, white towel around his hips. “Steve?”

“Hm?” But his main focus was on digging through his drawers for pajamas.

“Have you been telling everyone in the lobby I’m your wife?”

He quickly straightened with his sweatpants clutched tight to his chest. “No-uh…no. They just assumed and, y’know like, who’d pass up a chance to have such a total knockout babe for a wife, right? So I just-didn’t correct them.”

“Mhm,” the look in her eyes feigned skepticism, but she really didn’t mind, she thought it was cute. “Can’t flirt your way out of this one, Harrington.”

“No flirting, just truthing.” He knew even that wouldn’t save him from his fate, her thinking he’s such a dork and then most likely going home to tell Robin all about it. He needed to think fast before she rolled over on the bed and picked up the phone to dial Robin’s number, he thought he could see her fingers already twitching in its direction. The song changed and while the intro played and he rushed to get dressed, inspiration struck. He held his hand out for her hoping she’d get the hint.

“What?”

“Come dance with me.”

“This is hardly a danceable song,” she swung her legs over the side.

“It’s John Mellencamp, of course it’s danceable.” Steve pulled her up by the hand even though she was already going to walk over.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Sh, sh, sh, let me listen.” He held their joined hands in the air, her left in his right, and his other was on her waist, swaying side to side and rotating around in a circle.

“You dance like such a dad,” she half whispered, half giggled.

“I’m a great dancer.”

“I never said you weren’t.”

“Could you listen to the song please, they’re like us,” and he started mouthing the words out with his breath.

A little ditty 'bout Jack and Diane; Two American kids growing up in the heart land

“Steve, we’re from Indiana.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“That’s not the heartland.”

“I’m pretty sure the heartland is all of the midwest.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Jack, he's gonna be a football star; Diane's debutante, backseat of Jacky's car

“You played basketball and swam, those are like the furthest things from football.”

“You’re really draining all the fun out of this,” but she could feel the rumbles of his laugh with her ear pressed to his sternum.

“And I’m not a debutante and we’ve never done anything in the back of your car.”

“The point that you’re purposely missing is that they’re in love.”

“I know they’re in love, but I’m in love-er with you.”

“Is that the right way to say that? Not ‘more in love?’”

“Well now look who’s being willingly obtuse.”

“I’m not obtuse, you’re obtuse.”

“I’m not obtuse, I’m in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you too.” He rested his head on top of hers, his eyes stuck on her bare fingers. “But those things can coexist.”

“Steve!”

This was not a request but I thought of it at work because all we listen to is fm radio and everyday John Tesh makes me want to strangle myself with receipt paper. But I had the idea and I thought it was cute, and as always, it got way out of hand. So here, have my first complete Steve Harrington one shot <3

Tagging some babes because I love you and I want to annoy you all @beezywriting @haydipoof @sw34terw34ther @esperisdrunkinwonderland @avipoof @loving-and-dreaming @katsu28 @manyfandomsfanvergent and if i think of anyone else and they don't get to this before I get to them <3

#Definitely did not choose that gif solely for its bbg qualities #pfft that'd be ridiculous #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #harrington #steve harrington x fem #Steve harrington fluff #ever have that moment when you look at a word so much it looks wrong #I just had a crisis thinking I spelt harrington wrong #steve stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things one shot #stranger things fluff #Dell's fics

111 notes · View notes

francesminos-tt · 8 months

Note

blind!joffrey au he and daeron fight for some reason (maybe a misunderstanding and lack of communication) but they make up at night :)

It turned out sillier than I expected, but I hope it’s still cute.

The most frustrating thing of being blind was that sometimes people acted as if you didn’t even exist. Joffrey knew this too well. He was right there, sitting in his favorite armchair and enjoying the warm sun on his skin, but the two chamber maids were gossiping to each other as if Joffrey was as deaf as he was blind.

Normally, he didn’t mind it too much. Some of the court gossips were entertaining, and Joffrey could use them to start a conversation with his husband during dinner. The thought of Daeron put a smile on his face. Joffrey brushed his fingertip against his wedding ring, feeling the cool metal band and the large gemstone in the middle. Daeron told him the gemstone was called opal, a soft brown gem that was the same shade of brown as Joffrey’s eyes. Joffrey had no idea what opal or the color brown was, but he appreciated Daeron’s gesture.

“Do you know Prince Daeron’s new hobby?” One of the chamber maids said in a hushed tone.

“What can interest the prince except for swords training and dragon riding?” The other maid chuckled, “I have never seen him pay attention to anything other than these two things.”

“Well, you are in for a surprise then.” The first maid paused, “I saw his grace with Lady Farman in the garden three days in a row!”

“Lady Farman? From Fair Isle?”

“The one and only. It is said that maidens from the Fair Isle all live up to their names. Let me tell you, Lady Farman surely does! She’s so pretty! Especially her brown eyes. Like melting chocolate.”

“But,” the second maid paused, “Prince Daeron is married to Prince Joffrey?”

“Oh, come on,” Her companion scoffed, “it’s a political union! How could someone as handsome as Prince Daeron be willing to marry a blind man? It’s to unite the two factions. Surely his grace wants someone who can actually keep him company.”

Joffrey bit his lip and tried his best to stay silent. What good would it do, if he reminded them that he had been listening to the conversation all along? That he was only blind, not deaf? That it was his husband they were talking about?

No. Joffrey didn’t think it would make any difference. Their words were not wrong. Joffrey had only taken on a stroll with Daeron in the garden once. He remembered that he clung to his husband the entire time, and Daeron had to keep telling him to mind his steps. It was a hilarious experience for them, and Joffrey had never suspected otherwise. But now, he wasn’t so sure. What if Daeron didn’t find it hilarious at all? What if Daeron found him annoying? What if Daeron was lying when he said he had loved Joffrey for years? What if Daeron realized that Joffrey’s unfocused brown eyes were not gems, and decided to find a pair of better ones? Such as Lady Farman’s pretty brown eyes that looked like melting chocolate?

The more Joffrey thought about that, the more he was convinced that Daeron had lied to him from the beginning. The maids had already moved on to other topics, leaving Joffrey to dwell on his thoughts alone. Joffrey tried his best to ignore the tug on his heart, the disappointment, the anger, the pain of being played like a fool.

When Daeron returned to his quarters, Joffrey was not there. Strange. Joffrey always welcomed him with a kiss and a bright smile. Where could Joffrey go? It was already dark.

Daeron put the gift he got for Joffrey down on the table before leaving the room again. He didn’t need to search for long, for Joffrey was seldom seen without him, the Keep’s servants were quick to tell him that Prince Joffrey had gone to the Dragon Pit.

What could Joffrey possibly do in the Dragon Pit after dark? He couldn’t fly, and today was not his scheduled day to see Tyraxes.

Daeron met Joffrey outside the Dragon Pit, the brunette trying to mount his black dragon but to no avail.

“Watch out!” Daeron rushed to Joffrey’s side, just in time to catch the boy falling off from Tyraxes, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

Joffrey didn’t reply, only struggled to get free from Daeron.

“Joffrey!” Daeron’s voice hardened instinctively. His heart almost stopped when he saw Joffrey failed to grab the slick black scale. Tyraxes was young dragon, but it was still tall. Several meters fall was no joke.

“Let me go.” Joffrey hissed, keeping his head down.

“No. Unless you promise me not to do anything stupid again.” Daeron tightened his grip of Joffrey’s wrist, his heart still pounding in his chest, hard enough to hurt.

“It’s not stupid!” Joffrey struggled again, “I want to ride my dragon! I am entitled to do this!”

“You can’t ride a dragon, Joffrey! You are blind!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Daeron knew he had pushed too far. Joffrey hated to be called blind to his face. Daeron knew that Joffrey’s biggest regret of being blind was that he could not ride his dragon. Joffrey loved Tyraxes, and he felt guilty of robbing the black drake of the right to fly. Daeron had really hit a sore point.

“Is that what I am to you?” Joffrey said after a long pause, his voice cold as stone, “A blind man?”

“No, Joff, you know I didn’t mean it-”

“Fuck off.” Joffrey bit Daeron’s hand, and took the opportunity to run. He had no idea where he was heading, of course, but he had to leave. He couldn’t be with Daeron right now. How dare his husband say that word to his face? How dare Daeron dismiss his desire to ride Tyraxes?

If only. If only he was not blind, Joffrey could have flown away on Tyraxes by now. He wouldn’t stumble on some damn rock and fall to the ground like a sack.

Shit.

Joffrey groaned as he tried to get back to his feet, but a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist and picked him up, the familiar scent unmistakably belonging to Daeron.

“Stop fighting, please.” Daeron said softly to Joffrey, “You will hurt yourself.”

“None of your business.” Joffrey murmured, too tired to struggle. He would never admit that he missed Daeron’s scent and his husband’s warm embrace.

“You are my husband, Joffrey. You are my business.” Daeron pressed Joffrey’s face to his own chest and began to walk back, “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have said the word.”

Joffrey sniffed, but remained silent.

By the time they arrived at their quarters, dinner had already gone cold. Daeron put Joffrey down on the bed and ordered the maids to bring something light and warm.

“And some candied almonds and honey cakes, please.”

Joffrey deliberately ignored the fact that Daeron had just ordered his favorite dessert. If Daeron wanted to sooth Joffrey’s anger with desserts, he thought wrong.

“Can I see your hand, Joff? I want to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself.”

“No,” Joffrey hid his hand behind his back, “I can take care of myself. I don’t need your pity.”

Daeron sighed heavily. On one hand, he was pleased that Joffrey acted so difficult around him. Don’t get him wrong. It was not easy to be on the receiving end of Joffrey’s temper, but Daeron was glad that Joffrey felt comfortable enough to act so free around him. But on the other hand, he didn’t know what had gotten to Joffrey this time, which made it more difficult to sooth his husband’s anger.

“I am not pitying you.” Daeron said gently and sat down on the bed as well, “I worry about you, Joff. You almost scared me to death when you fell from Tyraxes.”

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? If I die, you can finally get rid of me.” Joffrey said through clenched teeth, “You can be with someone else who is not blind.”

“What makes you think of such nonsense?” Daeron’s patience was wearing thin right now. He couldn’t stand someone belittling his love for Joffrey. not even Joffrey himself.

“You.” Joffrey said flatly, “Do you enjoy your time with Lady Farman, husband? Is she nice? Pretty? Pleasant? I bet she’s a delight to be with.”

Oh.

Oh. Daeron finally figured out where did Joffrey’s anger come from. Was Joffrey jealous?

“Are you jealous?” Daeron chuckled, kicking off his shoes and climbing to the bed. He settled next to Joffrey and trapped the brunette in his arms.

“What’s there to be jealous of?” Joffrey tried to get away, but the king-sized bed could not hold off his husband for long. He found himself surrounded by Daeron’s warmth before he even realized what was happening.

“There is nothing wrong to feel jealous.” Daeron tightened his arms, kissing the top of Joffrey’s head, “I think you are rather cute when you are jealous.”

“I am not-” Joffrey wasn’t sure which claim he wanted to deny, jealous or cute?

Fortunately, Joffrey didn’t have to choose because Daeron sealed their lips together in a tender kiss. Joffrey melted immediately, much to his chagrin, but he had yearned for Daeron’s touch whole day, now he couldn’t resist wanting for more. Joffrey moaned into the kiss, his hands finding their way into Daeron’s silver curls.

“Though I love seeing you jealous, you really don’t need to be.” Daeron whispered against Joffrey’s lips, “I am not attracted to Lady Farman and I will never be.”

“But you took her on a stroll.” Joffrey said, embarrassed by how ridiculous he sounded.

“That’s because I wanted to consult her something and keep it a secret.”

“You have a secret with her?” Joffrey’s unsaid words couldn’t be more clearer. With her? Not me?

“No, silly.” Daeron stroked Joffrey’s cheek before planting a small kiss on the brunette’s lips, “Here, have this.”

Something was pushed into his hands. It was a long, cylinder thing, smooth to the touch, with several holes on one end.

“A flute?”

“You said you wanted one, and Lady Farman happens to have a profound knowledge of this instrument.” Daeron helped Joffrey to put his fingers on each hole, “She also offered to teach you, but I refused.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t like the idea of you spending time alone with her.”

“Are you jealous, husband?” Joffrey asked, a phantom smile on his lips.

“Maybe.” Daeron pushed Joffrey to the bed and covered the brunette’s body with his own.

The gossip of Prince Daeron taking a liking for Lady Farman soon died down, replaced by a juicy tale of how Prince Daeron almost bent Prince Joffrey in half and pounded into the blind prince with abandon.

#house of the dragon #hotd #joffron #joffrey velaryon #my asks #daeron x joffrey #daeron the daring

26 notes · View notes

jodithann827 · 24 days

Text

One Night Stand (Revised)/chapter 1/13

Rating:Explicit (some chapters)/Posted on Ao3/@today-in-fic

Friday, May 8th, 1990

Bar Louie

“Dana, come on,” Ellen deafeningly squeals, pulling her quiet and hesitant friend through the lively, albeit smoke-filled, entrance. It’s a crowded Friday night and the music was blaring; not typically how Dana Katherine Scully was used to spending her evenings, however, her best friend insisted. She said they required celebrating. Dana pauses momentarily before allowing Ellen to lead her in. Grabbing her hand, Ellen guides her right up to the crowded bar.

“What’ll ya have?” a 20-something, green-eyed, dimpled-cheeked, bartender greets them.

“Two long islands,” Ellen yells over the house band.

“El…” Dana starts to argue. Not one to usually throw back the alcohol, she knows that amount could do a fair bit of damage.

“Oh come on Dana, live a little. We’re marking the moment. We’re commemorating the day. You can go back to being studious and boring tomorrow,” Ellen informs her—some friend, Dana thinks, though it comes to her mind in jest. Truthfully, Ellen was one of Dana’s oldest and closest friends. They’d been through a lot together and Dana knew Ellen was only trying to bring her out of her shell. She would have to thank her later.

“What are you ladies celebrating?” the bartender asks, making chit-chat while filling their order. It was tough to talk over the thumping of the music, but Dana could mostly hear the conversation.

“My best friend here has not only finished medical school but she just found out she’s been recruited by the FBI!” Ellen shrieks, sounding as though she may have already had a few drinks under her belt. “It took her weeks to finally make a decision but she decided to go for it.” The bartender hands over one of the Long Islands, of which Ellen accepts eagerly, and takes a long sip.

“Impressive red,” the bartender states while also making a sly comment regarding Dana’s auburn locks. Her hand flew self-consciously to her hair and she smooths it down, pretending to ignore the comment. People were always making comments about her hair; it’s like the color gave everyone a free pass to speak their minds. He hands Dana her drink, along with a flirtatious wink. Dana blushes, cursing her pale skin and Irish heritage. She looks down at the glass in her hand and lifts it cautiously to her lips for a sip.

“Thanks,” she tells him, then quickly adds, “I don’t think it’s fully sunk in yet.”

“Your parents must be thrilled with you not continuing medicine,” he tells her, sarcastically.

Dana rolls her eyes and replies, “You have no idea!”

“Well, you ladies enjoy your night, and if you need anything else, anything at all, the name’s Mark” he winks again. Ellen waves and Dana blushes, bending her head forward and down slightly, avoiding Mark’s eyes.

Ellen pulled her from the bar. “He’s some nice eye candy,” Ellen yells in Dana’s ear, as the music becomes louder, the closer to the dance floor they get.

“Come on El, I am not interested. You know how long it took me to get over Ryan,” she sighs.

“Dana, you come on,” Ellen says, rolling her eyes at her friend. “You broke up with him, and, might I remind you, it was almost 10 months ago. You need to let your guard down and have some fun. Live a little. Heaven forbid you make a life-changing, life-altering, decision and not take a moment and enjoy it.” Ellen escorts Dana closer to the dance floor.

“What? You think I’m just going to lay eyes on some guy and hop into bed with him?” she innocently asks her friend. Ellen’s not wrong and Dana knows it. She has always been studious, a bookworm most would call her. She loves being at the library, reading, and solving puzzles. She loves medicine and science. A good time for Dana Scully consisted of curling up on the couch on a weekend evening and reading published journals. She was glad Ellen suggested going out, but that didn’t mean she would bed the first guy she laid eyes on.

“That’s the spirit,” replies Ellen, a sinister giggle leaving her lips. Dana exasperatedly glances away, not amused by her companion. “Dana, I’m just asking you to let loose, have some fun, and enjoy this night. You made a huge decision that has been weighing on you for weeks. No more anxiety when thinking about your path in life, or thinking about having to tell your parents. Speaking of, what did Mom and Ahab say anyway?” They move to a corner, finding a small table with two chairs close to the dance floor.

“Oh my dad was over the moon,” Dana says flatly, sipping her drink as she watches people dance, and chat, and even a few were making out like animals across the room. A young guy, probably around her age, catches her eye, though he isn’t looking in her direction.

“Really?” Ellen asks, surprise showing on her face.

Scully snorts into her drink and looks at her friend. “No! Come on Ellen, you know my parents. It was a hard pill for them to swallow, but at the end of the day I told them that this was my life and I felt like it was the path I needed to follow and that at least they could respect that”. She swirls the drink in her hand.

“Aw my little Dana all grown up,” Ellen cooes at her friend. Dana gives her a look that instantly says shut the hell up. “Come on,” Ellen says, suddenly, tossing back the last of the alcohol in her glass, and grabbing Dana’s free hand. “We are going to drink, dance, toast the moment. If we happen to meet some cute guys, while doing so, then so be it.”

Throwing caution into the wind, Dana takes a final swig of her drink and puts the glass on the table. This is going to be a long night, Dana thinks, her mind churning with consideration of the evening ahead.

*****

“Dude, if this is how you celebrate a big break I cannot imagine how you commemorate other events in your life,” Derek yells into the ear of his colleague, Fox William Mulder, whose head is currently bowed, sheepishly. “You kicked some ass, my friend. Your profile nailed that son of a bitch.”

Fox Mulder takes a swig of his beer but doesn’t answer. He looks around the dance floor; singles dancing shamelessly up against each other. He sighs. This isn’t his scene; bumping and grinding next to total strangers. However, he and his team had just broken a huge case they had been working on for weeks. They had lived and breathed it. They slept very little, and ate very little. They had lived at work for weeks on end. His friends were right. This was a momentous event and a celebration was called for. He reluctantly agreed to join the guys for a few beers at a local bar at the end of the workday. If he had anything to say about it he would enjoy one more round and sneak out before his colleagues noticed.

Suddenly, he feels a presence in his shadow and then hears a sultry voice, “Would you care to dance?” He looks to his left and sees a long-legged blonde. Mulder sits, frozen in his thoughts.

“Yo, earth to Mulder!” Derek exclaims as he attempts to gain his friend’s attention.

“Sorry,” Mulder snaps back to reality, shaking himself out of his fog. He looks up at the woman, then turns and glances at his friend, who simply eggs him on. “Sure thing,” he gives in, taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor.

As he dances, he takes in his surroundings. Singles, couples, and groups; a typical Friday night. As his eyes wander, and he focuses his attention on the front corner of the dance floor. His eyes catch a young woman with fiery red hair. He captures her gaze, holding it for a beat, and then she turns away. He smiles and continues dancing with the blonde. As the song comes to an end his dancing companion shifts closer to him.

“Want to get out of here?” she purrs into his ear, her voice sending goosebumps down his arm. He looks back over to the redhead, intrigued. Something about her captures his attention. At that moment he knows he needs to meet her.

“No thanks,” he replies, stepping out of her embrace, and leaving her on the dance floor, utterly stunned. His eyes scan the bar for the pretty redhead but apparently, she’d left her spot, as he can’t locate her.

“Mulder, what are you doing?” Derek, who had been dancing with his own blonde, follows him off the dance floor. “That chick was a hot piece of ass. She asked you to go home and have sex with her. What is wrong with you? What the hell are you still doing here?” Mulder waves him off and makes his way to the bar to get another beer. He squeezes his way in between waves of people.

While waiting to order his drink, he scans the room again but doesn’t see the mystery woman. And then, unexpectedly, she’s there, on his left, like she’d appeared out of thin air. They eye each other as they wait patiently for one of the bartenders. Mulder, still intrigued, decides to take a leap and make small talk.

“I saw you over by the dance floor earlier,” he leans over, practically shouting in her ear to combat the noise which is making communication difficult. She turns to look at him and smiles, shyly. “You weren’t dancing,” Mulder continues his poor attempt at making small talk. She smiles again and opens her mouth, but is unfortunately interrupted by the bartender.

“What can I get ya?” he asks, looking at Dana first.

“Rum and diet coke please,” she orders. Before the bartender can walk away, Mulder interjects, “And I’ll have a hopper. You can put the lady’s drink on my tab”. His futile attempt at being smooth. She turns and looks at him.

“You didn’t have to do that, I would have talked to you for free,” she tells him, giving him a wide, flirtatious, smile. Mulder, stunned speechless for a minute, is enraptured by her beauty. “But thank you,” she continues, “And no, I wasn’t on the dance floor. This is, well I’m not really a ‘go out on Friday night, especially to a bar’, kind of person.”

“So what brings you out to a bar on a Friday night if you aren’t a bar person?” Mulder asks, leaning his back against the counter.

Dana lifts her hand and points in the direction of the dance floor. “My best friend, Ellen. She had this crazy idea that we needed to celebrate and she thought staying at home on a Friday night wouldn’t accomplish that.”

The bartender clears his throat. Mulder turns, reaching for the drinks. He sets them close and then reaches for his wallet and pays the bill, leaving a generous tip. He hands Dana her drink.

Taking a sip, he feels the cool taste of beer wash over his mouth and down his throat. “What are you celebrating?” he asks nonchalantly.

“A new career,” Dana replies, keeping the details light. She takes a sip of her drink. Usually not one to drink liquor, she figures, when in Rome.

“Congratulations,” he tells her, sincerely. “When do you start?”

“Not for a few weeks. There’s some training I need to go through first, but I’m looking forward to it–”

“Dane, you need to come dance!” Ellen abruptly barges into their conversation, almost spilling her drink on Dana’s new friend. As much as she loves Ellen, she can be a sloppy drunk. Ellen looks towards Mulder, almost as an afterthought, and then realizes her friend is chatting with him. “Hey, who's your friend? He’s cuuuute” Her words stagger like her legs. Blushing at first, but overcoming it quickly, Scully turns to introduce him but then realizes she has no idea who he is.

“William,” Mulder says, extending his hand, allowing Ellen to shake it. Just then a tall and lanky guy in his mid-20s with jet-black hair comes and pulls Ellen back towards the dance floor.

“I’m Dana,” Dana says, looking at William, then takes another sip of her drink.

“Nice to meet you,” Mulder responds. He likes talking to this mystery woman, Dana. There’s something about her, a feeling that had come over him since he’d been standing with her. He doesn’t want to let her go, figuratively speaking. To hell with it, he thinks, and then says aloud, “Would you like to da–”

“Yes,” she replies before he can finish his question. They each chuckle bashfully.

They make their way to the crowded dance floor, overflowing with sweaty young coeds. They rock their bodies in time with the music, occasionally making small talk, though it’s tough to hear each other.

“Born and raised in the area?” Mulder asks as he bends his head close to her ear.

“Born, not raised,” she answers, biting softly on her lower lip. Mulder groans internally. “I’m part of a Navy family. My dad is a captain. I grew up traveling the world,” she continues. Mulder nods, intent on keeping his body in close.

“What about you?” Dana asks, swaying her hips. Mulder, whose hands are close to her hips moves them ever so slightly.

“I grew up in Martha’s Vineyard and went to school at Oxford. But now I call this place home.”

Dana nods, listening to him talk, mesmerized by his voice and lips. She can’t quite articulate what’s come over her. Very rarely has she ever been so enraptured by a guy, especially one she just met.

“Can I tell you something strange?” Mulder asks, slowing his movements. Dana gestures silently, lacking confidence in her voice. “I feel like you’re a person I have known forever, and I swear that is not a pickup line,” he says, smirking.

Dana smiles, understanding what he is saying. She leans closer to him and, after biting her bottom lip again, whispers, “Do you want to go somewhere and talk?” Mulder nods sheepishly, but enthusiastically, and allows this red-headed stranger to lead him off the dance floor.

#dana scully #fox mulder #the x files fanfic #au fanfiction #one night stand #x files

9 notes · View notes

imaginepirates · 2 years

Text

Warmth

As of yet, this is my first Davy Jones fic. The reader (gender neutral) has known him for years, and ends up aboard the Flying Dutchman after drowning, reuniting them. Unfortunately, Jones isn't exactly the same person as he used to be. Beware, angst ahead.

@emdrabbles @tesserphantom @viper-official @hellspawn-brownies @groovy-lady @wordsinwinters

~3,320 words

~~~~~~~

The last time you’d seen him, his hair had finally lapsed into grey.

The tall grasses waved at the ocean from their position above the beach, fingers grasping your legs and ankles as you walked. Jones was there, under the dark sky, loading up a fishing boat to haul in the morning’s catch. He smiled at you, when he saw you picking your way towards him, barefoot through the shifting sands. There was rain on the air; you could smell it.

It was his smile that caught your eye. Always, his smile. Lopsided, almost tentative, in the way that it didn’t quite know if it belonged but wanted to stay anyways. There was always warmth behind those smiles, even when they were nervous. They reminded you of crackling fires and blankets and hot soup. Comforting things. Homey things.

That was what Jones had been to you. A comfort. A part of home.

You lived in a small house along an empty stretch of beach characterized by its regular gloom. Clouds constantly hung in the sky like overripe fruit. Wind bit at exposed gooseflesh, and mist clouded the vision, the threat of rain always on the horizon. It was what the poets would call a dreary place, with all its grey. You didn’t mind. The lull of the ocean and cry of the gulls made up for the muted colors and chill, though even those were part of your home’s charm.

You were alone there, the two of you, living in small houses not too far apart. The nearest farm sat a few miles inland, and the nearest town farther than that. You were each others’ only company in solitude. It was best that way; neither of you were too keen on the company of others, but sometimes, when the bitter cold set in and the damp crept within your bones, you would find yourselves curled up together, sharing soup and stories in front of fireplaces full of driftwood.

“Leaving me again, are you?” You gazed into the creaking rigging of the fishing boat.

“Not for too long, this time,” he rasped.

You smiled softly, knowing all too well that he couldn’t keep such a promise. He would catch fish for days, and sail down the coast to sell them, bringing back what he could spare. Sometimes, he was gone for months at a time, and you sat inside worrying the ends of your sleeves until he returned. Once, he’d been gone for almost a year. You thought he had died. When he showed up again, white sails on the horizon, and when his feet finally hit solid ground, you had been there to jump into his arms. You’d never quite clung to anyone the way you had him, and though it made you bashful to recall, the knowledge of his safety had left you overwhelmingly thankful.

“Stay safe. And come back.”

“Have I ever not come back?”

“You cannot tame the sea, Jones,” you whispered. “No matter how much you love her.” In a moment of courage, you slipped your hand into his, rubbing your thumb over the top of his weather-worn knuckles.

“I don’t need tame.” He watched your hand at its place on his, never pulling you closer, but never pushing you away. When he raised the back of your hand to his mouth, pressing a light kiss there with chapped lips, your chest felt like it might explode, and the warmth of his mouth at your hand traveled all the way up your arm.

He let go, and you felt the loss acutely. He turned, as he always did, out to sea, making his last preparations before setting off across choppy waters. You would watch, as you always did, until he had passed into the offing and you were alone again.

That was the last time you saw him.

~~~~~~~~~

Ironic how it happened, really. That the sea, which you had lived by for so long, no longer had mercy for you, and opened its maw to swallow you up whole. It was like being Jonah without the whale. Salt accosted your mouth and nose, stinging your eyes each time a wave tried to drag you under. You clung to the bit of wood you had managed to grasp hold of, but you knew it was only a matter of time. You were nowhere near shore, and there would be no help on the open waters.

It had been ten years since Jones disappeared. The first year, you reminded yourself that such a thing had happened before. The second, you weren’t so sure, but you held out hope. The third, you knew he was gone. You left your home, then, to go stay with family in the city, unable to stand the silence and solitude and the empty house next to yours. A storm overwhelmed the boat you’d been on, pulling it under and its passengers with it. You’d managed to escape going under, though you weren’t sure you were faring much better.

Waves buffeted you from all sides. Roaring whitecaps and claps of thunder were deafening, starting a ringing in your ears that you couldn’t shake. Not that you could try very hard. All you could do was cling to the wood, knuckles white against the edges.

A wall of water washed over you, making your fingers slip from their hold. A moment of panic overtook you, but exhaustion soon overcame even the will to live, to fight against the waves, and you sank ever lower, letting the sea fill your mouth and nose and lungs.

When you drown in saltwater, it pulls blood out of the bloodstream and into the lungs. Your own body drowns itself. The sea never kills you: every death at sea is an unconscious suicide.

Someone had told you that once, though your hazy thoughts couldn’t pick out who.

Jones, maybe.

~~~~~~~~~

The creaking of the ship’s wood caught your attention first. Sensation returned to your fingertips and the backs of your legs, telling you of the planks underneath you before you took the willpower to open your eyes.

The space was small, and almost too dimly lit to see. Your eyes adjusted, slowly, to the gloom, and you stretched each part of your body, flexing it from its cramped position on the ground. Something slick found your palm. Seaweed, you realized. The walls were covered in it—it grew on them. You turned to find yourself closed in by bars. They looked almost like the type you might find in a ship’s brig, but the barnacles plastered across the iron made them look a hundred years too old for effective use. If you pressed on them, you felt they might break.

Weakly, you pushed yourself up to a sitting position, immediately cradling your head as the blood rushed from it. Nothing around you moved. You worried the wood beneath you with a finger; where you were, you couldn’t tell. You wondered briefly if you were dead. There were stories about where the soul goes, when it dies at sea. Perhaps you had made it to one of those places.

No daylight found its way into your little prison, only a never-ending dark. Finally, you managed to pace the area, getting up to touch the little creatures that lived in the cell with you. Once, a hermit crab skittered across the floor, and you debated eating it. God, but you hadn’t eaten in so long. When you began to think about it, you found you weren’t even hungry.

The first time the door opened, you were asleep. Sleep was the only way to fight off the oppressive boredom that came with being locked away. You could barely make out the face of the man who stood there, but you watched his wide, scared eyes and listened to his voice, barely above a whisper, and knew wherever you were was not a place you wanted to be.

Sunlight blinded you as you climbed through the hatch and on deck. You closed your eyes against it, missing for a moment the dim of your cell, but thankful for the clean ocean air cycling through your mouth and nose. It was better than the musk of the hull.

It was much better than the salt water.

Your eyes fluttered open. You began to wish they hadn’t. Men worked the deck in front of you in tattered clothing, shaking, walking as if dead across the slimy wood. Some of them were barefoot—younger boys, you noticed, ship’s boys with haunted eyes sunken halfway into their skulls. One looked at you, owlish, and you could have sworn a small crab skittered across his shoulder.

The sea around you was blissfully calm, a stark contrast to the crashing waves you’d almost drowned in. Almost, you thought to yourself. Then, almost? Looking around, you weren’t quite sure you’d survived, after all.

It was the man at the helm that made your heart stop. Oh, his hair was matted and his clothes were torn, he was too thin and his skin had taken on a sickly tint, his eyes were too hard and a starfish stuck to the side of his face, but it was still him.

You recalled that day, jumping into his arms after having thought him dead. It felt so long ago, now.

An emptiness hung in your chest. Not warmth, not relief, but an almost neutral exhaustion. You weren’t angry. You weren’t even sad, really. You were nothing at all. And even through that, through that hollowness, the temptation to press your fingers against the waxy skin of his cheek burned your fingertips.

He saw you, then, staring. For a moment, nothing. Then, almost tentatively, he passed the helm off to some other poor soul.

He climbed down the short ladder between decks. You stood, facing each other, close enough to reach out, to embrace, but still, stiller than marble or masts, stiller than death.

“You didn’t come back.” It wasn’t an accusation, really. More of a statement. A fact.

“No.”

“Why?”

Jones scowled. “It doesn’t matter why.”

You hesitated. He never used to be like this. All noise died in your throat as you contemplated whether or not you should speak. “It matters to me.”

He stared at you then, a brief look of pain replaced almost immediately by coldness. “Don’t let it.”

What happened to him? The reproach stung. As if you could allow yourself not to care for him. As if, after all these years, your heart did not still hold a tenderness for him, a tenderness in the way a bruise was tender, where poking at it only made it hurt more, but you could never stop yourself from touching the purple.

The next few days you spent figuring out how to work on a ship. The men there already had experience, you found, and you looked to them for guidance. Even the young one, the one with the crab, as you had been right in that, tutored you in tying knots. You were a silent group, but sometimes he flashed you a toothy teenaged grin, and you couldn’t help the warmth that created the small smiles you gave in return.

Where Jones’ smiles had gone, you feared you would never find out. The line of his mouth sat in a permanent frown, interrupted only by orders spat at bone-tired sailors. You were reminded of uneaten soups, tepid on the counter, chilling by the minute in your little house by the sea. There had been so many uneaten soups in those last few months. Still a soup, just without any of the warmth. All the ingredients, none of the enjoyment.

It took you another few days to gather the courage to ask the poor owlish boy where exactly you were.

“We’re on the Flying Dutchman, miss. Ferries souls across to the other side, it does.” He frowned. “Or so it’s supposed to.”

“Supposed to?”

“Jones isn’t too fond of the job, as it were. I should’ve just chosen to let myself die. This isn’t really living anyway.” He gestured around at the gaunt figures.

Your eyes passed up to Jones. “No, it’s not. Are we all dead, here?”

“Don’t think Jones is. Not really.” The boy looked at you, eyes scanning your form. “I think you might be, though. You weren’t really breathing when we pulled you from the depths.” The last bit was a whisper, like some sort of secret. You supposed he might be ashamed of being dead, and thought you would be, too.

Ashamed of being dead. Never thought of that one. All that left your mouth was a small “oh”.

The rest of the crew paid you little mind. You did your best to stay out of their way, flitting around like some sort of caged bird, unable to escape the confines of the ship. Jones remained ever-present in your peripheral, almost a phantom fading in and out of your vision. If you touched him, you feared your hand might pass right through. Then again, I’m the ghost.

It explained why you were never hungry, why, though tired, you didn’t actually need to sleep, why your skin was clammy and the tips of your fingers tinged blue. You were sure your lips were, too, though you had no mirror in which to see yourself. Once, you even put a hand to your chest to check for a heartbeat. None was there.

It was during the night, when you wandered instead of sleeping, that you heard it. An organ, echoing through the bowels of the ship, reverberating through the wood as if the ship itself were singing, music curling and twisting and sad, so desperately sad.

You found yourself there, one night, watching from inside the almost cavernous room in which the organ lived. Jones sat there, eyes closed, fingers caressing the keys. Who taught him to play like that?

You stood for what seemed like endless hours, watching, listening.

The music grew soft again. Then, “why are you here?”

You hadn’t even known that Jones was aware of you. You stood in the corner—hovered, you supposed, because could you really do anything a human could?—unsure of what to say. Your hands slipped through each other as you wrung them together, much like Jones used to do, so long ago. “What happened to you?” You were almost certain he would turn you away, but you stayed, no matter how nervous he made you, now. No matter how sad.

Jones sighed. “She betrayed me.” A cracked whisper.

Ah. So there was a woman. It shouldn’t have stung half as much as it did.

“She was wild, and beautiful, and enticing as the waves. She tasked me with this.” Jones’ fingers stilled at the organ. “Once every ten years. That was the agreement. Once every ten years, I could go on land to meet her. And when I went, she wasn’t there.” Jones turned to you. “You were right. I cannot tame the sea.”

You reached out to him then, your chilled fingers glancing every so lightly against his cheek. A bold move, you felt, even after having known him for so long. “Were you always with her, when you were away?”

“Sometimes,” Jones breathed, leaning into the touch. Your hand didn’t pass through him as you’d feared. It rested against his skin. It was warmer than yours, but only just. “She would come to me, up from the waters, a goddess of sea spray. How could I do anything but love her? She was the ocean itself.”

“What was her name?” A very live, very human ache settled in your chest. The more I know her, the more I know him.

“Calypso.”

A name had never been spoken more reverently, you were sure. You wondered, briefly, whether your own name could escape his lips so well loved.

“She was everything a man could want.”

Your throat closed over, at that.

“Water in human form, but always shifting, always flowing. Easy to get lost in.” Jones sucked in a sharp mouthful of air, leaning away from your hand. “But she betrayed me. She tempted me, and left me to rot. Love,” he scoffed, “love is worthing nothing to her.”

“I’m sorry.” It was all you could think to say, even if now, your hand held nothing but empty air.

He stared at you, eyes flinty, an edge of hardness to them that had never been there, before. “Love is worth nothing to me either.”

A test. Would you walk out of the room? Would you believe him?

No.

“I don’t believe that.”

“I don’t have the heart for love.”

“That’s not true.” Your hand had fallen back to your side, itching to reach out again. “You had love, once. Curled up by the fire, eating warm food, laughing, that nervous smile always on your face.” A lifetime ago, it seemed. But it had happened.

Jones shifted, grabbing your hand with one of his own. You flinched, surprised by the contact, and he pulled your hand to his chest, resting it over the space of his heart. The space where his heart should have been. Nothing beat in that empty cavity. His other hand went to the collar of his shirt, unlacing the stained fabric, letting it fall open until you could see the shimmering top of a twisted scar.

“I don’t have the heart.” His voice cracked.

“Oh Jones.” you sighed, twisting the fabric of his shirt beneath your fingers. “What have you done?”

“I didn’t want to feel it. The weight of it. So I cut it out, and hid it from the world. A place where no one will find it.”

I could have kept it for you, your own heart screamed. I could have kept it for you without hurting it. Without hurting you. Instead, a different thought escaped your lips, unbidden. “Did you ever miss me?”

A breathy laugh. “Did I ever miss you.” A statement more than a question. “If I hadn’t, do you think I would have ever come back? Do you think I would have left the sea?” An unstated question: do you think I ever would have left her?

A small smile sat on Jones face, the first you’d seen in years. You wanted to capture it, that moment, save it forever and keep it to yourself, always able to return to that smile, that hesitant smile, still asking permission to be seen ten years later. So you’d had some power over him, some importance over that woman. It shouldn’t have made you so happy, but the feeling tugged at you even so, the relief that Jones had, in fact, cared for you.

“I couldn’t even let you die. I missed you too much to give you the choice. It was selfish of me.” His voice was solemn again.

“Selfish of you to keep me here, selfish of me to wish you home for all those years. Selfish of me to wish, every time you sailed away, that you’d never left.”

“Why did you never tell me?”

“I couldn’t form the words.” Doubt overtook you, then. “Would I have been enough? Would solid ground and human flesh have been enough for you? I’m no deity.”

“No,” Jones whispered. “You’re no deity. You’re kinder, gentler.” His eyes had lost their sharpness, finally, and he looked more like the man you were so used to. “Even seeing me now, you haven’t tried to leave me.”

“Leave you? After all these years spent longing?”

“We’ve both served our decade of lost love, haven’t we?” One of Jones’ hands brushed against your cheek, the pad of his thumb resting just at the curve of your jaw.

“Yes. Let’s go get your heart back. I think you might need it.”

Jones only smiled, melancholy music forgotten, and finally, finally, you felt some warmth in your fingertips.

#potc #pirates of the caribbean #davy jones #davy jones x reader #potc x reader

196 notes · View notes

soap-lady · 5 months

Text

Being productive? Not when there's fanfic to write

@angelqueen13art @idreamtofmanderleyagain @tenebrare

Well, here you go. It's a little rough but I hope you guys like it.

Hot Dad Shopping

“I don’t understand,” Elliot said as he allowed Kirsty and Tiffany to pull him closer to the assemblage of department stores known as a “Mall”. My wardrobe is perfectly adequate. I don’t need much and your father’s clothes are in good condition-”

“We need a new wardrobe for Tiffany anyway,” Kirsty reminded him as she nodded at her new little sister. “Sure, it’s a private school and she’ll have to wear a uniform but she’ll need clothes for after school and weekends. Cute stuff.”

The blonde girl could get away with wearing the few pieces they’d managed to scrounge for her during the summer but with school about to start she’d need better clothes. It was a posh school and Kirsty didn’t want her made fun of by her classmates.

“It’ll be fun!” Tiffany was looking forward to some cute new clothes for herself, especially those she could pick out on her own. She was equally looking forward to seeing how Elliot would look in new clothes.

“I love my dad,” Kirsty couldn’t stop herself from referring to him in the present tense. “But he had little to no sense of style. He tends to wear the same clothes he bought ten years ago unless I or…his wife bought him something.” Her smile turned a little awkward. “They’re old fashioned and don’t fit you quite right.”

Elliot was taller and leaner than Larry Cotton and so the dead man’s clothes were ill-fitting. Still he hated to complain or spend money on something he already had. “Really, Kirsty. I can see buying Tiffany school clothing but it’s perfectly all right for me to wear your father’s clothing-”

“It really isn’t,” she interrupted with a polite but troubled smile and turned away from him, still leading the charge to an upscale department store that started with an “N”.

Elliot understood. To wear Larry’s clothing must be a constant reminder to his daughter that the man wasn’t here to wear them himself. Plus, to Kirsty’s mind it must be as if he were wearing the man’s skin and she didn’t need a reminder of that. He mumbled “sorry” and Tiffany changed the subject. “So, who are we shopping for first? Me or Elliot?”

He was grateful to her. “Ladies first, naturally. I’m sure I won’t need much anyway.”

Both young women looked at him and gave him a “aw, he’s cute when he’s naive” look and continued into the “Juniors” section.

Tiffany oohed over some dresses but Kirsty brought her over to a circular display of trousers. “Dresses are great and we’ll get to them but it’s good to start with some basics.” Clothes shopping was one of the few things her former stepmother had bothered to teach her and the woman even relaxed a bit the few times they’d gone out together. “You want some separates that you can build into a lot of different outfits. Start with pants, jeans and skirts if you like them and add blouses, tees and sweaters, maybe a jacket or two. Then we can move on to shoes and accessories and um,” she bit her lip, knowing Elliot was listening. “New undergarments. We’ll get you measured for a proper fit.”

“I’ll excuse myself during that part of the trip, if neither of you ladies mind,” he was sure under clothing had changed since his day, Cenobites never bothered to wear any, and he’d rather not watch his underaged ward pick them out. He found himself wondering what men wore these days.

Tiffany nodded and together she and Kirsty picked out a few trousers in neutral shades and a few others in bright colors. Elliot found himself being used as a living clothing rack as they moved on to blouses and other tops and located a sales representative to lead them to a dressing room. To her credit, the woman didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow at the strange little family but unlocked a door for Tiffany. She hung an “in use” sign above the door and gave them all a professional smile (lingering a bit on Elliot) and gave them some privacy.

The next hour was spent approving or rejecting certain outfits. Elliot found it strange to see a young girl in trousers but Kirsty teased him about “wearing the same thing for nearly a century” and he gave up. He was glad to see that their faux arguments made Tiffany giggle and he loved hearing it. The poor child had had little joy in the past year or so and he was glad to see her enjoy herself. Even if it was at his expense.

“Just you wait until it’s your turn,” he told Kirsty. “I will give you the exact amount of grief you’ve given me.”

“Bring it on, Captain”, she taunted and Tiffany laughed again.

The salesperson occasionally brought in suggestions, like a sleeveless dress and a turtleneck to be worn underneath it. She also brought a jumpsuit and a coordinating cardigan, a few knee length pleated skirts, and a belted pea coat. She also brought in some leggings and a big puffy jacket with a hood. After selecting nearly everything Tiffany tried on and liked they moved on to shoes. She would need some flats and loafers for school, sneakers for PE, and some low-heeled dress shoes. Then came belts and purses.

The last item Tiffany would need is the aforementioned undergarments and Elliot wandered over to the men’s department to select his own.

*****

A young man wearing a nametag that read “Arthur” nearly pounced on him as soon as he’d crossed over. “Hello, sir? Are you shopping for yourself or someone else today?”

“Myself,” Elliot was feeling a little flustered at the man’s overly friendly behavior. He hadn’t been to a tailor’s in decades and those were usually private discrete appointments either at home or at the shop, not as part of a crowd. He lowered his voice and said, “I’m looking for…undergarments.”

The man’s eyes lit up and he looked Elliot over. “So! What kind? Boxers? Briefs? Maybe some boxer briefs?” The young man’s grin turned sly. “Bikinis?”

“Er…boxers I think,” Elliot decided. “Perhaps some boxer briefs as well, please.”

The salesperson looked slightly disappointed but still smiled. “Of course, sir. Just step into the dressing room and I’ll measure you for size.”

“Yes, thank you,” Elliot smiled politely and followed the younger man.

After some careful (and exact) measuring, especially in his inseam, the salesperson determined that Elliot was a “medium” and brought him several different styles that would “flatter that lean, swimmer’s body you have”. He also brought over some undershirts and socks. Elliot paid for everything with the credit card Kirsty had given him. She told him cash was impractical and carrying around large bills was ill-advised.

The salesperson rang up all his purchases and slipped his business card into one of the bags in case Elliot ever needed some style consulting. He’d just taken his bags when Kirsty and Tiffany came over with a few rolling suitcases.

“This place doesn’t have silly things like shopping carts so we bought something to take everything home in.” She handed him a large case that nearly came up to his hip. “We got one for you too.”

The salesperson gave Tiffany a polite smile, his eyes roaming over Kirsty just as they had over Elliot. “Aw, family shopping day?”

“In a way,” Kirsty answered before Elliot could think of something. She pointed between Tiffany and Elliot. “They’re cousins. I’m just their friend turned landlord.”

“Ah,” the other man nodded in understanding. “I should have guessed they were related. They have the same beautiful blue eyes.”

“Blue eyes do run in my family,” Elliot agreed. It wasn’t a lie, just misdirection.

“And now my dear platonic friend Elliot,” Kirsty told the salesperson with a wink, “needs a new wardrobe. Any suggestions?”

She had clearly made the man’s Christmas. “Tons!” She couldn’t tell if the man was more excited for his possible commission, or the fact that Elliot was currently single. “Why don’t you go back to the dressing room, sir? The ladies and I will bring you some pieces you’re sure to love!”

“C’mon, cousin,” Tiffany smiled at him. “Let us pick out some outfits for you. It’ll be fun!”

He grumbled under his breath about torture but complied.

His three personal shoppers threw clothing over the top of the dressing room door at him; trousers in every color they could find, denim trousers called “jeans”, lightweight khaki pants called chinos, turtlenecks, jumpers, button downs in every color, an olive jacket with large buttons down the front, a navy jacket with a zip up the front and a leather black jacket with a faux fur collar that reminded him of the kind of jackets pilots used to wear.

The young man also fitted him with three different suits; one gray, one black, and another in navy. They then moved on to shoes; casual shoes, trainers, and dress shoes. He also allowed Kirsty to talk him into buying a watch. She’d bought all of them mobile phones so the watch was just for effect and he liked it all the same. The salesperson also recommended belts and ties, even a wallet or two..

Somehow the clothes he’d had on when he came in disappeared so he exited the dressing room in a navy button down with the first two buttons undone and a pair of khaki chinos. He also decided to match the outfit with some casual loafers. He adjusted the cuffs of the shirt sleeves, feeling a bit out of his element. “So, how do I look?”

“Hot!” Tiffany blurted out before she could stop herself. “You look like a hot dad.”

Kirsty nodded. “A really young, hot dad. Like, unbelievably young to have a teenager type of dad.”

The salesperson agreed. “Oh yes, it’s totally you. And very on-trend. Think of John Legend or Ryan Reynolds. They both have the Hot Dad look down pat.” He sighed. “You’ll turn heads and break hearts. Trust me.”

Elliot thought he was much too old and too experienced to be able to blush but the idea of drawing attention to himself as plain old Elliot Spencer, the man he hadn’t been in decades was a bit of an adjustment. A flattering one.

The salesperson wrapped up his purchases and accepted payment. His smile was very eager and not altogether professional. “Anything else I can help you with today, Mister…” he glanced at the name on the card. “…Spencer?”

He thought they’d all had quite enough fun at his expense. “For myself, no,” he clapped an all too friendly hand on Kirsty’s shoulder. “But my dear Miss Cotton has yet to have bought anything for herself, sans the luggage of course. Can you direct us to some lovely clothing for her?”

Kirsty glared at him but he pretended not to see. Her altruism was commendable but he wouldn’t allow her to neglect herself. Nor would he miss the opportunity to tease her as well.

The young man sighed. “Women’s clothing isn’t my area and my coworkers can be a little…territorial.” He seemed disappointed he couldn’t pick out clothes for Kirsty as well. Then he brightened. “Amy is working today and she’s a sweetheart. I trained her myself so you know she’s good. Follow me.”

*****

They made their way over to the women’s department and their salesperson introduced them to a young redhead, the aforementioned Amy. After he’d walked back to his own department she gave Kirsty a look of dismay. “Oh, sweetie. Who hurt you?”

“Lost most of my clothes in a house fire,” she told the saleswoman bluntly. Elliot blinked at her response but Tiffany just nodded in agreement. He mentally shrugged. It was better and easier than the truth.

The saleswoman looked horrified. “I’m so sorry! Well, I’m glad you’re alright. Let’s put together a replacement wardrobe. What would you like to start with?”

Kirsty shot Elliot a mocking glance. If he thought she’d take his teasing without a fight he clearly didn’t know her. “Lingerie.”

His eyebrows rose as he briefly imagined her…in things…they’d passed rows of women’s underclothing, skimpier than he remembered and he told himself he was being judgemental. “Yes, well. In the meantime Tiffany and I will pick out some outer clothing for you to try, if that’s all right.”

“Oh, great idea. That’ll save time.” Amy answered for Kirsty and took out her measuring tape. Let’s just go in the dressing room and I’ll get your size.”

Tiffany and Elliot went to the sales floor to pick clothes for Kirsty. He initially grabbed a paisley blouse as a joke but Tiffany grabbed it out of his hands and put it back on the rack. “She didn’t pick anything ugly for you. Don’t pick ugly shit for her,” she admonished and he felt ashamed for being petty.

Once she saw his understanding she gave him a grin and a conspiratorial wink. “Let’s pick pretty things but let’s pick a lot.” *****

And a lot they did pick out. First a camel colored trench coat for the upcoming chillier weather, then some button up blouses in colors they knew Kirsty liked. Tiffany found some pretty patterned skirts and maxi skirts she thought would look nice with solid tops and Elliot added them to their pile. Next were a few cardigans and turtlenecks that could be layered, plus some tailored trousers. Tiffany threw in a blazer and some denim jeans and a jacket or two. Neither of them knew what size shoe Kirsty wore but they did find some socks, belts and bags they thought she’d like.

Amy popped out of the dressing room, took their selections, and added a casual dress and some t-shirts and camisoles as well. Elliot also thought she’d look nice in a boatneck shirt with horizontal stripes, like some of the French girls he’d met in the past. Last came some sweaters and they decided Kirsty could pick her own shoes.

Kirsty finally came out of the dressing room wearing something Tiffany and Elliot had selected for her; a plain t-shirt with wide-legged trousers and an aviator jacket similar to the one she picked out for Elliot. Her clothes were also mysteriously gone. She looked at both of them. “Well?”

“It suits you,” Elliot managed after a few tries.

Tiffany did a few slow circles around Kirsty and rubbed her face. “Not Hot Dad style but I think the Cool Big Sis look is perfect for you.”

Everyone agreed and after Kirsty had picked out some sneakers, loafers, and dress heels for herself Amy had rung her up and they put all her purchases in the rolling suitcases. Kirsty sighed and looked at her friends.

“Shopping’s done. Who wants lunch and ice cream?”

Tiffany raised hers and Elliot’s hands while Kirsty told Elliot all about the joys of Haagen-Dazs.

#Pinsty #kirsty cotton #hellraiser #domestic fluff #Tiffany is their daughter/little sister #Captain Elliot Spencer is human catnip

10 notes · View notes

zarvasace · 7 months

Text

PROGRESS POST

(10/4/23)

This is partly for accountability and partly just to get all this out of my head! This last month or two have felt so hectic, getting used to a new work and sleep schedule and all. I'm still not quite there.

If you're curious about what I've been working on and what my plans are in terms of writing and art for the rest of the year, read on. :)

I will say, though, that if you want more of a specific AU or story, the way to get it is by asking questions and leaving comments! Asks and comments remind me about things I'm doing and get me excited about them again! I have these plans, but I also am very good at chasing inspiration to unknown (and sometimes unimportant) corners!

By Fandom

Linked Universe Projects

I've been feeling less motivated to work on LU stuff, but I still plan on at least finishing what I have open, so you can look forward to some of that!

Writing

Disability AU—one small mobility trio fic in the works. A few vague ideas for doing backstory fics.

Council (1931 vampire AU)—this is still the "backburner to backburner" fic, but I do have some fun ideas. I just have been distracted with other things! I think this AU is a lot of fun and I'd love to do more with it. We'll have to see.

The Marvelous Misadventures of Wind and His Merry Band of Maybe-Human Misfits—chapter 7 (out of 9 or so) is in progress. I have it all outlined out, and it's fun to work on, but I have (again) been distracted! This is, I hope, going to be my main December project. It'd be nice to finish before it turns 2 years old next summer. Oops.

I have several other WIPs that aren't very exciting and probably won't see daylight, but they're there if I feel like them

Art

Coloring book—I'm part of the coloring book project! :) I have already finished 1/2 drawings, and they went so well, I'm considering doing more.

Shatterproof manga page—still on my radar! I'm doing the end scene from dazzling diamond danger, and my ambition keeps outgrowing my time.

Four Swords Projects

Writing

Fairytale AU—man I've started this Vidow BatB fic literally five times. I have an almost-complete draft sitting at like... 20k?? iirc, but I kind of hate a lot of it. I also like a lot of it. It's a bit difficult for me to work on rewriting something in that situation. Anyway. Another December thing probably.

Fright Fight—I have ideas for every week, but am currently unsure if I want to draw or write for them. Most of my October will be focused on filling these prompts!

Vampire Lords AU—I have strange as severe is this my fate open right now, with a fair amount of material... it just needs to be edited a bit. I do want to keep working on that, I've just... well. Distraction. A common theme. XD I might be feeling another little bite fic coming on, too.

Art

Fright Fight—see above

Fright Fight part 2—I have a few side things to do for this, like making graphics that I haven't quite finished yet. They shouldn't take long, I just gotta do em!

Non-Fandom

Stickers—I am in the process of drawing some stickers! Yay! These are for my work, but also just for me. I want some Halloween stickers. This is a backburner project.

Nanowrimo project—I need to spend some time figuring out a few things to really get going on my princess-verse. I'm going to be doing Nanolympics this year, so hopefully some of their preptober stuff will help!

Hearts Linked Together—my super-cool Linkverse. XD I love my dumb timeline, and all the characters, they're just filler drawings that I haven't had time to continue.

Secret Zelda project—I really really need to do this! I can't say much right now, but it involves a fair amount of work, both writing and art. I think I haven't gotten very far on it yet because I'm intimidated. Stop that.

Zine edits—I worked really really hard on an art piece for a LoZ zine coming up! This week is critique, and I anticipate a few edits later.

By Month

Facebook posts—a lady I know wants to commission pretty quote images to post on her Facebook. I need to reply to her text. And do them.

September

I primarily worked on the fic Blood-Sucker's Guide to High School. I also worked on and submitted one fic and one piece of art to two different zines, which I hope you'll see soon.

October

If you care, you may have noticed I'm not doing Whumptober this year! Part of this is because I'm a bit burned out from the above, and part of it is that the prompts just didn't seem very inspiring to me this year. Maybe that's just my mindset. I haven't been in a very whumpy mood.

I'm planning on filling weekly prompts for @fsfrightfight this month and maybe chipping away at some other fics, in addition to one more zine contribution. I'm also going to be planning for November and doing some scattered art work here and there.

November

NaNoWriMo! I considered skipping this... but I'm feeling really inspired and motivated to do it, especially with October as a break. I'm going to write some original work, and that will be the focus of my November. I'll likely get some other art done, too.

December

I hope to dedicate this month to finishing things up from this year! That means working on "backburner" projects.

#i speak from the coffin

11 notes · View notes

lumelii · 2 years

Text

This AU and this Megumi has been living in my head rent free ever since I answered the first prompt. I used a first line generator and wrote this up in response. Hope you like it <3

—

“Please try to persuade him to come, for my sake.”

You looked at Tsumiki, laying on her sick bed with more color in her cheeks than you had seen in weeks. She was smiling though the sheen of sweat on her brow remained. The ‘him’ in question had stormed out of her room after the two siblings had gotten into an argument while you were only able to sit and watch. Gojo had insisted on throwing a party for the new year, to which Megumi had vehemently objected. From what Tsumiki had told you, Gojo hadn’t hosted guests at his estate since she fell ill several years before. But at the sudden uptick in her health and her assurance, the duke had seen fit to take the opportunity for a large gathering after enjoying a small Christmas with just the four of them.

Megumi had expected her to go along with his objection in the interest of her health. When she disagreed and showed enthusiasm, however, he could barely contain his anger. You had never heard him raise his voice at his sister, but it was bordering on disrespectful until he finally left the room to compose himself.

“I don’t think it’s my place to interfere.” You chose your words carefully. “It’s a family matter, and his personal decision on whether or not he attends the party is his to make, not mine to influence.”

“You’re his wife.” Her hand reached out to grab your wrist with a strength you didn’t know she possessed. “Surely you can convince him.”

Your heart twisted at the reminder of your deception. Everyone around you thought you had made a love match. You still couldn’t bear to acknowledge your father’s well wishes in the letters he sent. He was happy you had found a husband you had chosen, and the heir to the Gojo estate at that. How could you ever face him again if he knew you only married Megumi because you had been caught by the man you had wanted to marry?

Then there was Tsumiki. Tsumiki, who had embraced you as a sister even before you and Megumi had married. Who was ecstatic Megumi had seemingly found someone he loved he would marry, who pushed herself to attend your wedding even if it had forced her to stay in bed the whole week following. She made sure to help you in any way she could as you grew into your role as lady of the house. And you spat on her kindness every day with your deception.

“It’s not my place.” You managed to free yourself and stood. The air was too close, the room too suffocating. You needed to get out. “If he doesn’t want to attend, that is his choice.”

“He used to have such fun when Gojo used to throw his New Year parties. We both did. I hoped it would help him feel better.” How was it possible that she was wasting away, and yet she was concerned with her younger brother?

“I’m sure he’s objecting for your benefit.” You suggested in hopes it made her feel better. “It’s not right to hold a party when you can’t attend.”

Tsumiki seemed like she wanted to say something but just smiled and nodded instead.

“Could you check on him?” She asked. “I’m sure he’s upset, I don’t want him to feel that way.”

Why me? The pleading look she gave you won you over and made you nod. You hated dealing with Megumi when he was in a foul mood. It was enough you had to be married to each other now, you didn’t choose ‘for better or worse’ voluntarily.

You found him outside on the back lawn. He was throwing a ball as hard as he could across the grass, watching as his two dogs raced after it and bring it back, only for the process to start again. Lucifer, the black one, was the winner of the latest round and returned the ball to Megumi while Raphael, the white one, spotted you coming out of the house and raced to your side escort you to Megumi, butting his large head into your side for pets.

Megumi looked over his shoulder as his dog ran away but turned back around when he saw who had come to disturb his solitude. He didn’t speak even as you stopped beside him. He threw the ball again and crossed his arms against the chill of the December air.

“I’ll be going to London the day after Christmas.” He finally announced. “I have business to attend, I won’t be back until after the New Year.”

You nodded. What else was there to say? He seemed determined. Nothing would convince him. If he didn’t want to attend Gojo’s party, you couldn’t make him. Why would he listen to you? He’d made it clear this wasn’t a partnership in any way, and you should both continue your lives as you always had.

When you didn’t say anything, he turned to face you fully. His closeness made you take a step back. The rage on his face made you retreat further. What had you done in such a short time to be the recipient of his displeasure?

“Nothing to say?” He spat out.

You blinked at him a few times. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your husband just told you he would be leaving for an extended period of time, and would be missing a major holiday. You have nothing to say?”

“What would I say?” You questioned. “It’s your choice to attend the New Year’s party.”

He stared at you for a moment before scoffing. “Now you choose not to have an opinion? That’s uncharacteristic.”

“Why are you cross with me?” You demanded. “I told you it’s your choice whether or not you attend, and you’re upset by that?”

“You should agree that the party shouldn’t happen and tell Gojo as such, not help him plan.” Megumi spat.

“What would it look like, if the lady of the house didn’t help plan the party?” You couldn’t help poison seeping into your words. He was being unnecessarily mean. He was being a petulant child all because he wasn’t getting his way. Why should you be the recipient of his frustration?

His face went neutral then split into a familiar sardonic smile. “You know, maybe I’ll leave tomorrow. Shouldn’t put off work, should I?”

It was too much. “Is your absence meant to hurt me?” You shot back. “I’ve been alone the entirety of our arrangement, why would a holiday be any different?”

A brief look of shock crossed his face at your vitriol. You had always avoided giving into foul moods. One of you had to stay positive, and it wasn’t going to be him. Even at home, where he was most comfortable, he always seemed to be pained when he was around you. If he hated you so much, why would he bother spending time with you? Why would he care what you think? You were tired of being his dumping ground.

He quickly composed himself, the familiar mask of calculated indifference returning to its place as he regarded you. A moment later he was walking back to the house, leaving you alone with the nagging feeling that whatever progress you had made in coexisting peacefully had just gone up in smoke.

#regency!megumi #regency!au #megumi x reader #jujutsu megumi #megumi fushiguro #jjk fandom #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #my writing

70 notes · View notes

shootingxstardust · 25 days

Text

Jurassic Dead (2017) Review

Jurassic Dead

So this movie was one that I bought on a whim. I was at a used CD and DVD place with my dad, and bought this while on vacation. I spent $4.00 and I regret nothing.

A couple nights ago, I watched this movie with @shxxtteredfantasy. This movie.. It was entertaining to say the least. And yes as the polls said, I am going full spoilers with this review because I am pretty sure none of you will watch this.

So the film begins with this professor dude. He's getting this secret green formula that brings dead thing back to life. The guy who gives him said formula is threatening to kill him. The professor guy injects a dinosaur and the dinosaur kills everyone at the scene, but the professor guy.

Skip to one year later, the professor guy is teaching his class about reanimation, and injects a dead cat, with the green formula. This scene bothered me because he said "You need a lot for it to work" HE USED LESS WHEN BRINGING BACK A FRICKEN DINOSAUR... Also where's the dinosaur during this?? Who knows... Well because of this professor being Frankenstein levels of insane, he gets fired, vows to get his revenge, and then gets hit by a truck...

Some time later we meet two groups of characters

the Black ops in which we have Duque (who looks like Duke Nukem... and yes they reference this), Stick, the only person of color in the film and one of the few who survive, some asshole guy with a bandana, and a badass token lady character who... I don't think had one line of dialogue.. At least none that I can remember... oh and one guy that dies in the very begining

The second group we have a stereotypical blonde.. (like so stereotypically stupid I'm surprised she didn't need to be reminded to breathe, by the characters.), a stereotypical jock...( who has a gun for some reason... and brings up the 2nd amendment for some reason when he's asked why he as one...), a nerdy girl playing Game Boy, and a nerdy guy doing weed.

After a meteor causes all the electricity in the area to stop. (phones, cars, gameboy, etc) the gang of high schoolers find themselves in a weird science facility. The same facility that the black ops people are investigating. The facility soon fills with green smoke, one of the black ops guys who had separated from his crew, breathes in the smoke and becomes zombie.

The high schoolers and the Black ops team soon run into each other, and the douche in the bandana (whom a couple scenes ago pointed a gun at them while they were driving, confiscated the nerd girl's and guy's weed.

A TV then comes on. It turns out the professor guy who got hit with a truck is not dead. He is wearing a cloak because he is evil, and a gas mask.. and he sounds like grocery store Darth Vader. He then announces his very evil plan to turn off all the electricity in every major city, and then turn everyone into Zombies. He then of course, announces that no one in the facility is going to survive and releases his dinosaur to kill him.

Duque walks right over to the dinosaur and decks him in the face. The dinosaur is then presumed dead and they walk away. However, of course, the dinosaur is not dead! Now it wants revenge on Duque and the crew!

The groups have now split up for some reason.. It's the jock guy with the bandana guy. The Bandana guy gives the jock some beanie weenies, and then starts smoking weed and talking about chemtrails and other conspiracy theories, but their time of smoking weed and enjoying beanie weenies is cut short as the dinosaur grabs the jock guy. Instead of doing anything to help, Bandana guy books it,

Bandana guy regroups with the rest of the crew. However, the Jock guy is dead, but not completely. he is now a zombie. He arrives at the scene and says to the blonde (his girlfriend) "I love you." The blonde then runs over to hug him, despite him being a zombie. Duque however is on the scene and shoots him before he can bite/ kill her, but not before getting bit himself. The blonde is hysterical, crying about her boyfriend being murdered, despite him being a zombie, and while Stick is trying to convince her that she needs to get going.. The Blonde stupidly does not leave, and then gets eaten by the dinosaur that has shown up yet again.

The crew have two missions now, to stop the villain's evil plot, and get out alive, but.. when ya gotta go, ya gotta go. The nerd girl went quickly, not wanting to take her time while there's zombies on the loose, however, the nerd boy criticizes her on her bathroom hygiene. He then goes to the bathroom, presumably number 2, because he's taking forever... However, Duque isn't doing so hot... While in the stall, he becomes a zombie..

The bandana guy is also using the bathroom, and says that he's suffering from a case of the bubble guys. He then does some more weed... As he's doing his business, Zombie Duque opens the stall and starts strangling bandana man. The nerd guy during all of this... just stays in the stall, instead of doing the logical thing of leaving. Bandana man tries to get his gun out, but accidentally shoots the nerd guy right in the head.

Okay okay what next

Assassin lady kills the now zombie bandana man, the nerd girl somehow knows code and hacks into the system, but the system has a safeguard and now the facility is about to blow up.

The professor realizes he has to leave, but then the dinosaur shows up and eats him.

The remaining crew find a military vehicle equipped with a turret, they kill Zombie Duque and the dinosaur with it. They then escape the facility by somehow crashing the military vehicle through the wall and escaping, but it's too late, the villain won, and all the characters are zombies... but sentient... and they adopted the dinosaurs head as their pet.. They then drive off into the desert sunset.... The end..

This movie was a nonsensical mess, but... I love these type of movies. I was never bored. All in all I give it 6.5/10

#Out of Blue Flames {OOC}#review

2 notes · View notes