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galacticxangel · 7 days

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Wait I saw your comment on the meeting your mutuals/stranger danger post. You said you married your mutual? That's so cute. Have you shared that anywhere and if not would you share it here?

I’m pretty sure I’ve shared it passively, but I never shared the full thing just on its own, so I’ll do that here!

So back in Ye Olde Days (13 years ago), Ask Blogs were a big thing on Tumblr, and also, so was Minecraft! And wouldn’t you know it, I was running a little Minecraft ask blog. And then I came across another, which had amazing art and characters and I adored what I was seeing, so I followed, they followed back, I sent little asks, and we communicated that way! The blog I found was run by two people, @cosmic-anchor (Silvia), and her friend Lazzy (boyo where’s your blog). He’s still a mutual bestie today, as are a few other folks we met via ask blog shenanigans, like @knightlymoon and @ragnarode .

ANYWAY. We get to playing on a server together (we actually use a Minecraft version release date as our meeting anniversary, because it was right around the prerelease of Beta 1.8: September 9, 2011. How do we remember? Well, that’s when they released Endermen! And anyone familiar with Minecraft aakblogs knows just how popular those are today. But back then? HOLY crap. Everyone and their grandma has a Sexy Broody Enderman or a Sexy Broody Enderman Hybrid. It was. A lot), take to each other like a church on fire, and become besties! We have a little house together.

Long time passes, and we’re on pretty much daily communication, still playing games, etc. I went through basic training and she was one of the folks I sent letters to while I was there. We played D&D together (This was an entire fiasco where we lost one bestie due to an abusive relationship. She’s back now tho! Love you Lynn <3). Even in the military, when I got DEEPLY depressed, she was there for me and helped me out (I credit her for being alive today. I’m not sure I’d be here if she hadn’t talked me down and convinced me to see a mental health specialist). I get out of the military, get my own little apartment, and go ‘wait a minute. I can do what I want. I have a best friend I’ve known for like six years now. Let’s invite her down!’ And so we start planning our first

‘Down’ is an understatement. See, I live in Texas. She lives in Kentucky, literally a thousand miles away. And while I’ve got all my documents and paperwork and driving skills and travel under my belt, she… doesn’t. As the older sibling of a special needs person, and not from a very high income household, she didn’t have this stuff. So it’s up to me, and I’m too fired up about taking my bestie to a renaissance faire (yah we. Really nerdy lol) to consider anything but!

We get her costume ready. Her plane tickets. Her ids and everything, sorted. It comes to like. Two weeks before the flight. And I get a call at work. It’s Via. Now, this is weird. Over the years, we’ve kinda fallen into a system. Common communication falls into just a message (Skype at the time iirc, Discord didn’t exist just yet). Something kinda urgent gets you an alert ping (like @ing someone). Dire is a call. And my phone’s ringing.

Not good.

So I hurriedly excuse myself from the office to take it, and she’s in tears. Her dad’s gotten cold feet, and won’t take her to the airport like he promised because ‘what if I’m an internet predator’. I mean. I get it. I have a Southern Style family, too (This will come up later). But damn it, she’s an adult. We’re BOTH adults. Also, I just bought a round trip plane ticket! Also, at this point I know more about her than he does. He still thinks she’s straight. But he won’t take her because we’ve never met face-to-face.

It’s Wednesday. I look at my office door. I have my best friend, current queerplat partner on the line, sobbing apologies.

“Hey. Tell him to pick a place to eat. Dinner on Friday. My treat, okay?”

“What?”

“Tell him to pick a place for dinner on Friday. I’ll see you then.”

Thus begins the trek that cements me as ‘most unhinged friend when others need something’ in our friend group to the day. I go into my office, spinning a sob story about how some nondescript family member just passed and funeral and blah blah I need to go but I’ll be back on Monday.

Green light acquired.

I go home, and immediately go to sleep. I wake up around midnight, pack my bags into my little Kia, and off I go. 1000 miles. Now, remember when I said my family would come up later? Here’s later: I didn’t tell them. There was NO WAY they were going to just sit idle while I drove a thousand miles, ALONE, to meet someone I’d never met in person. I’d never driven quite that far, either. Not to say no one knew, I would plot two hours on my gps, send the path to Lazzy and Via, and check in when I hit the next stop. If I didn’t check in, they were told to call my parents if I was over an hour late. Which, obviously, I never was, because I’m typing this and not like, dead or anything.

I roll up to her local Cracker Barrel at 8pm on Friday, after easily one of the best experiences of my life (was out between cities on a clear, late summer night, got to see the Milky Way for the first time, got ‘adopted’ by a bunch of truckers at a truck stop I paused for a nap at). My hair’s a bit frizzy and I’m wearing a shirt that says ‘Watch Closely: I’m About To Do Something Stupid’. But her dad gets the firmest, friendliest Texan handshake I can give, and a bright smile.

Apparently, he never expected me to show. According to Via, I humbled him that day. I don’t pay for dinner, despite offering. I even stay the night.

She’s on a plane for Texas two weeks later.

(Bonus: it’s at the point I send a picture of the big ol ‘Welcome To Kentucky’ state line sign to my parents. This. Was not a good idea lol. But I had my big Texas meat swangin my ego and I was damn proud to be functionally unhinged. My dad scolds me and then gets me a hotel room in Little Rock, DEMANDING I stop half way on the way back. My mom calls me, yells at me, and then hangs up on me. Calls back an hour later to apologize because she wasn’t mad I went, she was mad that I was right when I told her ‘you’d have tried to stop me’. Ultimately fine, in the end).

There’s at least one other travel adventure (much easier this time! We were supposed to go to PAX South but were too lazy that morning so we ate pizza and played video games.

I move out of my apartment and start renting a house. I have extra room. And I think about my friend, who’s only left her tristate area twice now, both because of me. And I think ‘that’s my best friend! I wonder if she wants to move down here!’

Another 2k miles on my poor little Kia (who’s STILL KICKING BTW), and she now lives in Texas. This was about five years ago. We live in my little granny house that’s older than both occupants combined. You heard that right, though. Oh my god, We Were Roommates.

It’s about this time that apparently Via starts Getting The Feelings but BLESS HER she’s being SO GOOD because at this point I’m defining as Aro/Ace. Turns out it was just some anxiety/aversion because my previous relationship was turbo unhealthy! But I really like this chick, and I’m like ‘you know what, I’m scared I’ll mess up our friendship, but I’ll try these things. We already go on ‘dates’ and I buy you flowers occasionally just because I was thinking of you and we already snuggle every night because it helps us go to sleep’ yeah I was. Hm. Dense.

Anyway it takes off HARD and within the year, we’re married on the coast where I took her to see the ocean for the very first time, on September 9, 2023.

Our first anniversary is soon. 💕

#Wife Posting #MINECRAFT LESBIANS BAYBEE

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hardestgrove · 2 years

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A small thing I wrote because I’d mentioned ages ago the cute concept of Billy teaching my littlest oc in my stranger things oc family Alison how to swim and I finally decided to write it. While you can read more about Alison and her family (mainly the older siblings and not Alison lol) in my Black Planet series all you really need for context for this is that it’s like May and Billy is close with the King family via Emily who’s in his and Steve’s class at school and their mutual friend/partner.

black planet taglist: @emeraldwitches @darkovempire @hargroveshaunt @iwigyounot @polaris-talks-fandom @rebsmoonn @znxvvallvsfi (unable to tag)

He’d come over to the King place to use their pool, Harrington’s was heated sure but his parents were actually around right now and Billy didn’t wanna talk to them. It was warm enough out anyway it wasn’t that big of a deal. Emily had given him cart blanche to come over whenever so he just let himself in and made his way through to the pool. Thing was when Alison, the littlest King, had noticed him and his swim shorts she decided it was play time for her too.

He’d been hoping to get some sun and some laps in but she came charging back down in her own little pink bathing suit he knew he was on kiddie duty. It was kind of a pain but he didn’t mind it too much really, he liked Alison. She was cute kind. A little blonde haired bundle of sweetness. So he dumped his shit on one of the pool chairs and hopped in the pool with her.

Alison was 7 now so she could swim but he knew when he was her age he could’ve swam circles around her. Most likely she got taken to those “how not to drown” lessons for babies since they had a pool and anything else she learned just swimming in it. He figured while he was here he might as well help her out on that.

“Hey princess wanna get some swimming lessons?”

“But I can swim! Why would I need lessons?”

“Check this out—“

Billy left her in the shallow end to do an quick and easy backstroke lap to the deep end and back. When he came back to the shallow end and she latched onto him all excited.

“Yeah! I wanna learn! Teach meeee!”

Billy laughed and put an arm around her to keep her up.

“Okay I gotcha.” He waded over to the side and peeled her off of him. “Alright first things first little missy I’m gonna teach you how to push off from the side and then I’m gonna help you with the back glide okay?”

He got in position, hands grabbing the rim, feet flat on the side of the pool, head back looking up at the sky. “Start off like this okay?”

He nodded to Alison and she mimicked him and he looked over her form before moving on.

“Lookin’ good. Okay from here we’re gonna push off and we’re gonna keep our chin up, our hips up at the surface and we’re gonna point our toes okay? Even when we’re kicking. Got that?”

Alison nodded excitedly. “Got it!”

He smiled. “Okay, 3…2… 1…”

They pushed off, Alison full throttle and Billy nowhere near and as they glided into the pool Billy shifted so he could place his hand on her back and keep her hips up.

“Okay princess lookin’ good I’m gonna help you stay up now alright? Remember chin up” He adjusted her chin, “Hips up” He pushed gently at her back “And toes pointed even when you’re kicking got that?”

“Yup!”

“Okay good girl. Now gimme some kicks.”

Alison started kicking as he gently guided her around the pool.

“Arms stuck to your sides— that’s it Ally girl real good.”

Alison grinned up at him and he couldn’t help but grin back as he guided them back to the side.

“Okay great job. Let’s do it again a few times then I’m gonna let you try on your own okay?”

They easily spent something like 40 minutes just working her up to the point where she really didn’t need him at all before they moved onto adding in the arms. She was pretty good, and a pleasure to have as a student. She was just so excited and happy to be there. He liked Alison a lot, she reminded him about how fun being a kid could be. Sometimes Billy felt like all he did was fucking break everything around him but Alison always looked at him like he was her hero. She didn’t look at him and see someone scary. She was always excited for him to be there. It was a fucking head trip and yeah it did make him feel pretty cool. Eventually though it was pretty clear she was getting tuckered out and he figured it was best to call it a day.

“Okay okay, great job but I think that’s enough for the day. Let’s just hang out for a bit alright?”

“But I didn’t learn it all yet!” She whined and pouted.

Billy held her up easily, scrunched his nose and smiled down at her conspiratorially.

“And this ain’t gonna be your only lesson kid so don’t worry. I’ll teach you all the tricks alright? When we’re done you’ll be as good as any chump on the swim team.”

Alison looked like she was fit to burst. “Really Billy!? You’re gonna keep teaching me!”

“Yeah sure princess. I’ll talk to Ems and we’ll work it aaall out .”

Alison screamed happily, nearly taking out his fucking ear drums, and launched herself at him. Her little arms locked around his neck and Billy laughed and held her close. He’d kill for this kid. She was all sunshine and rainbows. Her siblings all worked overtime to keep the worst of their parents away from her and Billy’d decided months ago he’d throw himself in on that. Just to keep this kinda goodness alive and safe. Ally refused to let go of him so he walked them up and out of the pool and wrapped them both up in a big fluffy beach towel. She weighed basically nothing to him so he really didn’t care that she was insisting on hanging on to him, talking all about the big events of her little first grader life. He sat them down on a pool chair directly in the sun knowing he was in for even more babysitting time than he’d already given.

And honestly, he was alright with that.

#stranger things ocs #ocappreciation #stranger things fanfic #billy hargrove #alison king #writing.doc #billy teaching kiddies my beloved #I JUST WANTED NICE BILLY CONTENT #bp content

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gonegrove · 2 years

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originally posted on hardestgrove which is trapped in hell now. reposted completely unedited.

black planet taglist: @emeraldwitches @darkovempire @hargroveshaunt @iwigyounot @polaris-talks-fandom @rebsmoonn @znxvvallvsfi (unable to tag)

“Hey princess wanna get some swimming lessons?”

“But I can swim! Why would I need lessons?”

“Check this out—“

Billy left her in the shallow end to do an quick and easy backstroke lap to the deep end and back. When he came back to the shallow end and she latched onto him all excited.

“Yeah! I wanna learn! Teach meeee!”

Billy laughed and put an arm around her to keep her up.

He got in position, hands grabbing the rim, feet flat on the side of the pool, head back looking up at the sky. “Start off like this okay?”

He nodded to Alison and she mimicked him and he looked over her form before moving on.

“Lookin’ good. Okay from here we’re gonna push off and we’re gonna keep our chin up, our hips up at the surface and we’re gonna point our toes okay? Even when we’re kicking. Got that?”

Alison nodded excitedly. “Got it!”

He smiled. “Okay, 3…2… 1…”

They pushed off, Alison full throttle and Billy nowhere near and as they glided into the pool Billy shifted so he could place his hand on her back and keep her hips up.

“Yup!”

“Okay good girl. Now gimme some kicks.”

Alison started kicking as he gently guided her around the pool.

“Arms stuck to your sides— that’s it Ally girl real good.”

Alison grinned up at him and he couldn’t help but grin back as he guided them back to the side.

“Okay great job. Let’s do it again a few times then I’m gonna let you try on your own okay?”

“Okay okay, great job but I think that’s enough for the day. Let’s just hang out for a bit alright?”

“But I didn’t learn it all yet!” She whined and pouted.

Billy held her up easily, scrunched his nose and smiled down at her conspiratorially.

“And this ain’t gonna be your only lesson kid so don’t worry. I’ll teach you all the tricks alright? When we’re done you’ll be as good as any chump on the swim team.”

Alison looked like she was fit to burst. “Really Billy!? You’re gonna keep teaching me!”

“Yeah sure princess. I’ll talk to Ems and we’ll work it aaall out .”

And honestly, he was alright with that.

#stranger things ocs #ocappreciation #fyeahstrangerthingsocs #stranger things fanfic #billy hargrove #alison king #writing.doc #billy teaching kiddies my beloved #I JUST WANTED NICE BILLY CONTENT #bp content #the ancient texts

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iliveiloveiwrite · 3 years

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I wonder what it’s like to be loved by you // Benedict Bridgerton

Summary: You’ve loved him for as long as you can remember. Is this the season where he finally realises?

A/N: I LOVE BENEDICT. I love him so much. What do I have to do to get a Benedict? Title is from Shawn Mendes - Wonder. I had so much fun writing this fic, I can’t wait to write more for the Bridgerton fandom! I truly hope you all like it, let me know what you think please?

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of food and drink, fluff, pining, mutual pining, dancing, balls, obliviousness, friends to lovers, she/her pronouns, a lot of history - I am a historian after all and this is the regency era.

Word count: 4.8k

Lady Danbury never spared any expense on the balls she held every season. She knew full well that many a match could be made that night so there was not only pressure from the ton, but also a responsibility that this ball must outdo all others thrown before – by herself and other matriarchs in society.

A feat she always managed to achieve, the elder thinks to herself as she watches your eyes widen upon entering the ornately decorated room. Looking you up and down, she approves of your outfit – a dark blue dress punctuated with silver jewellery, hair twisted into an updo with only a few strands hanging loose to frame your face. From her spot across the ballroom, Lady Danbury wonders how you hadn’t married yet.

As the band strikes up, Lady Danbury walks into the fray, greeting her guests with a smile. All the while, she keeps a trained eye on you, wondering who on earth had captured your heart but had not noticed.

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

No matter how hard he tried, the charcoal would not wash from his fingers. Having scrubbed and scrubbed at his hands, Benedict could only offer you a smile of apology as you not only noted his lateness but the state of his hands.

“It’s very fortunate that you are a talented artist,” You comment with a teasing smile.

Benedict reaches for your hand, dropping a kiss to the back of it before answering. “I class myself as very fortunate to have a friend like you who understands how easy it is to get lost in a sketch or a painting.”

You roll your eyes, careful not to let anyone else but Benedict see your act of impropriety. He smirks, unable to help himself.

“You’re a shameful flatterer, Benedict.”

“Some might even call me a ‘rake’,” He replies, his tone teasing.

“I shall save that for when you’ve really annoyed me.”

He laughs; a loud chuckle that draws the attention of those closest to you. Most notably, Benedict’s mother, Violet Bridgerton and Lady Danbury.

Benedict clears his throat; cheeks flushed not only from the attention but from the knowledge that his mother would soon be making her way over to him. He adored his mother; was grateful for her every day, but he could happily admit he could live without the meddling in his love life. He grabs your gloved hand once more; kissing the back of it in parting before asking, “Save me a dance on your card?”

“Always,” You answer, watching his back as he stalks away. Benedict narrowly avoids being collared by his mother, an act to which you find yourself smiling at.

With thoughts of Benedict in mind, you wander around the outskirts of the ballroom, your dark blue skirts swishing pleasantly under foot. You pause only to grab a lemonade from the table, sipping happily at the cold drink.

You catch sight of the brunette that had stolen your heart dancing with Penelope Featherington and though you know there is no romance there, your heart is unable to stop the hurt that lashes through it. Schooling your face into a mask of polite delight, you force yourself to turn away from the sight of the man you had so readily given your heart to dancing with someone else.

“How long have you been in love with my brother?” A raspy voice asks from behind you.

Your lemonade splashes slightly as you turn to face your interrogator. “Eloise!” You laugh, smiling too wide to be comfortable, “Whatever do you mean?”

Eloise’s shrewd blue eyes narrow slightly as she takes in your dismissal. She waves her hand in the general direction of Benedict though you knew exactly where he was – could feel his location thrumming in your veins.

“Don’t play coy, (Y/N). It doesn’t become you. Now, how long have you been in love with Benedict?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? How long had you loved Benedict? Thinking back on it, you’re sure that you’ve always loved him. Your family had been good friends with the Bridgerton family for as long as you could remember. Your mother was always having tea with Violet and you were always thrust upon the eight siblings without much worry. Your friendship with Benedict had started in earnest when you had complimented his art skills, bringing up how you liked to draw too. From there, a close friendship was forged.

By your twentieth year on this earth, you realised that your feelings for the second Bridgerton were no longer platonic… that you craved something more. Falling for Benedict Bridgerton felt inevitable almost; that your heart was destined to be his whether he knew it or not.

Sighing heavily, you see no point in lying to the second eldest Bridgerton girl. “For as long as I can remember,” You admit, rushing to add on, “But he doesn’t know so please don’t tell him!”

Eloise’s eyes widen at your confession, not only shocked that you readily admitted your feelings for her elder brother, but for how long you have harboured them. “Is that why you have not yet married?” She demands, “Because you loved him?”

Biting your lip, you nod. “It wouldn’t be fair to my husband. Their wife in love with another man – it doesn’t exactly set stable foundations for a long, prosperous marriage and…”

“And…” Eloise prompts, her innate curiosity getting the better of her. If her mother could hear her now, she would surely receive a scolding.

You ball your hands into fists before letting them drop to your sides; letting them hang there like the constant hope you have for Benedict.

“And I still hope he’ll notice I’m here. That I have been here all along,” You voice cracks on the admission causing a pang of upset to flash through Eloise. She’d reach out to comfort you, but it would only draw attention from the many mothers circling and no doubt, Lady Whistledown.

“(Y/N)…” Eloise begins but you hold a single hand up to stop her before she starts. With a strained smile, you reassure her. “It’s fine, Eloise. I accept it with every season that passes that it is unlikely he shall ever return my feelings.”

“Then he is a fool,” Eloise states plaining, sending a glare in the direction of her beloved brother. She had no qualms admitting that Benedict was indeed her favourite sibling, but he had his moments where he vexed her beyond belief.

“Who is a fool?” A voice questions to the right of you. Benedict.

Freezing in place, you cast a helpless look at Eloise, begging her silently to take control of this situation. Eloise smiles and nods imperceptibly. She turns towards her brother, hooking her arm through yours as she declares, “The men that have not offered their hand to (Y/N) yet. They’re all fools, aren’t they dear brother.”

Benedict casts his gaze towards you; his eyes scanning your face for what, he does not know. “Fools,” He agrees quietly though he is heard perfectly over the music. “Would you care to dance?” He asks, wanting you to himself for a little while. As much as he loved his younger sister, she was a keen observer, and he wasn’t ready for her to figure out his feelings just yet. Not when he hadn’t admitted them to you.

Nodding your head, you take his outstretched hand, bidding goodbye to Eloise for now. The brunette shakes her head as the both of you walk away. Oblivious, she thinks to herself, completely oblivious.

As the music strikes up once more, it becomes obvious that the next dance is a waltz, requiring the closeness of your partner. It was only years ago that this dance had scandalised the ton for its closeness – now, it was required at every ball, many married couples savouring the intimacy.

Benedict’s hand settles on the small of your back as his other grips your hand. Your hand rests comfortably on his shoulder as he begins to lead you through the steps you have known since your youth.

Music around you fades as do the other couples. The only two people in the room are Benedict and yourself. The feel of his hand on your back and the look in his eyes; it’s enough to have you accept your fate then and there. It’s enough for you to admit that you have been ruined for any and all men; finding yourself in love with the man who holds you so tenderly and has always held you in high regard. Is this it? You ask yourself, is this what it feels like to be loved by him? To feel like the only one in the world. If it is, you’ll take it with open hands.

Your eyes do not leave his as Benedict leads you through the rises and falls of the dance. His hand remains a steady presence on your lower back; the feeling just enough to distract you from the crowd now watching you and instead, leading you to wonder what his hands would feel like elsewhere on your body.

As the music falls into another song; this one more upbeat, Benedict drops his hands, letting you free. He hadn’t wanted to; had wanted to pull you from the ballroom, to confess the feelings that have haunted him for years and to ask you to be his for better or for worse.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he bows and smiles, reaches for your hand to kiss it and then lets himself breathe as he turns and walks away.

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

Dear Reader,

Though there is much to report from Lady Danbury’s ball last night – the fashion, the food, the décor – This Author wants to focus on one moment in particular.

Now, Dear Reader, whilst you may wonder the importance of such a moment, remember that it is one’s job to observe all. That is why I want to bring attention to Mr. Benedict Bridgerton who found himself extremely popular last night, dancing with many eligible women and delighting them with his talents.

However, Dear Reader, this is not the moment I want to focus on.

No. Instead, I want to bring attention to the heart most likely suffering in silence as Mr. Bridgerton continues to charm the ton.

As you all know, I am not one to beat around the proverbial bush and hide identities, but for the sake of the woman who has found herself in love with the second eldest Bridgerton for as long she can remember, I shall endeavour to keep her name a secret.

Know, however, that This Author’s sympathies lie with you.

To love another unrequitedly is a dear shame.

----------

The gossip sheet is scrunched to a ball in your hands. It’s all you can do to keep the tears from falling down your face. As if you didn’t know your love was unrequited; as if you didn’t know you had all but doomed yourself to being a spinster as you wait for a man who did not know you loved him.

Lady Whistledown knew your secret, and your identity. As a result, the whole ton knew your secret but whatever morals the author possesses, she had not revealed your identity.

Summoning the carriage, you ask to be taken to Bridgerton House where you can speak to Eloise in confidence and ask for her advice on what she might do. Deep down, you had to know whether Benedict had read the paper too.

It doesn’t take long for Eloise to find you in the tea room; a cup of tea in your hands but readily ignored as you chew on the inside of your cheek. Her brown hair tied up in her usual bun, her eyes hold the pity you didn’t want to see or hear as of this moment.

“I didn’t know she was listening, I swear,” Eloise promises, sitting by your side and reaching for your hand.

“I know,” You comfort, “You would never tell a soul.”

“At least she didn’t reveal your identity,” Eloise chirps, trying to find a silver lining.

“Yet she has revealed my secret to the entirety of London society,” You sigh. Removing your hand from Eloise’s, you press your palm to your forehead, feeling overwhelmingly tired and desperate for the day to be over already. “Does he know?”

Eloise chews on her bottom lip, deciding whether to answer you. “He has read it,” She admits, but rushes to add, “He doesn’t know it’s you! He doesn’t have a clue really. He’s angrier at himself for not noticing anything was amiss.”

“I don’t know what to do,” You whisper, feeling helpless.

“For now,” Eloise states, “We do nothing.”

---------

Your heels sink into the soft carpet as you wander down the stairs, pausing only to check you have everything. Your mind remains elsewhere as you check your bag out of habit, the conversation with Eloise, the latest gossip sheet, your feelings for Benedict. They circle around your mind, leaving you dizzy in their wake as you try to make sense of them all, try to find your next step in and amongst the mess.

“(Y/N),” Benedict greets, hurrying down the final few stairs, pleasantly surprised, “What are you doing here? I didn’t know you were visiting.”

“I came to drop in on Eloise. I wanted to thank her for last night; she was an ear when I needed someone to listen.”

“Is it anything I can help with?” He asks, voice taking on a concerned note as he reaches out for you.

You shake your head, squeezing his hand in return. “For now, everything is okay.”

Benedict clears his throat. “I’m glad to hear it, but please come to me next time. I want to help if I can.”

“I will,” You promise, your eyes now scanning over his fine clothes. “Where are you off to?”

“An art exhibition at Somerset House. They’re showing some Holbein’s from the Royal collection.”

“Holbein’s?” You ask, shocked at the name falling from Benedict’s mouth.

He nods, just as excited. It was a rare thing indeed to have Holbein’s on display; they were usually kept in whatever royal residence they found themselves in; hidden away from the public eye. Art was the very foundation of your friendship; having seen so many of his sketches as a young boy and watching them develop into surer lines and confident strokes. Benedict was an exceptionally talented artist – something he would say about yourself. Benedict was the only person to see such work; the watercolours in your sketchpad leaving him breathless as you bring life to the inanimate.

“Would you like to join me?” He asks before he can talk himself out of it. He had barely seen you all season; you had closed in yourself, as if accepting a fate that you did not want. Benedict would do what he could to ensure your happiness for a little bit longer.

“Unchaperoned?”

A faint blush rises on Benedict’s cheeks as he realises what he has asked of you. “I shall ask Eloise to accompany us,” He suggests, turning to face the direction in which you had just come, “Did she mention any plans to you?”

You shake your head to which Benedict leases a sigh of relief. “I’ll go ask her now. I’m sure she won’t mind… much.”

Laughing quietly, you wait patiently in the entryway of Bridgerton House. The house in London so often felt like a second home to you; spending so much of childhood summers here when your mother would take tea with the Bridgerton matriarch. As you grew into your teens, you would begin to visit the house with just your maid, calling on the family for social niceties. The friendship with Benedict and Eloise only solidified your standing in the close family unit.

Eloise’s voice brings you back to the present. She walks down the stairs, accompanied by her brother. Taking one look at you, waiting patiently for the both of them, Eloise gets a mischievous look in her eye. It isn’t a look that leaves you in comfort, but rather leaves you wondering just what she has planned for the art exhibition.

“Eloise has so graciously accepted to join us,” Benedict announces, sounding rather pleased with himself.

Eloise smiles: a smile that sets Benedict’s nerves on edge. He would owe her for this, that much he knew. “I would be more than happy to accompany you, brother.”

Benedict resists the urge to groan; he’s in deep shit for this.

“Thank you, Eloise,” You murmur with a smile. Something in Eloise softens at your tone as if she would be unable to deny you this time with Benedict when it was their mother’s mission to see him married off this very season.

“Of course,” Eloise allows, glancing between you and Benedict – noting the longing in both sets of eyes. She shakes her head, gesturing to the door and where the carriages waits just beyond it. “Shall we?”

--------

“He wasn’t a handsome monarch, was he?” Eloise murmurs quietly, staring up at the grand portrait of the fearsome king who preferred executing his wives rather than loving them.

The walls of Somerset House have become dedicated to the eyes of the past. Past monarchs and relatives decorate the walls; their eyes following each attendant, as if curious to see how society is progressing less than three hundred years after the death of the artist.

Benedict chuckles; the very sound raising goosebumps across your skin. You barely repress the shiver the sound elicits. Trying your best to listen as the siblings argue about the reign of this particular monarch – the pros and the cons to what he did for the very country he ruled over for decades.

“Oh!” Eloise gasps, interrupting the argument and loosening her grip on your arm, she waves frantically at Penelope Featherington. “Would you mind terribly if I go say hello?”

“Not at all,” You laugh.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay with Benedict?”

The man in question scoffs, rolling his eyes at his little sister. “Off with you,” He dismisses, “I’ll escort (Y/N) – someone who actually appreciates the art.”

Eloise laughs as she turns away, but you do not miss the wink she sends in your direction. It hits you all at once; her mischievous look before you all left the house. She had concocted this plan in her head; accepting to accompany you as a rouse to get you and Benedict alone.

You didn’t know whether to appreciate her genius or hide her favourite book.

Jumping at the sound of someone clearing their throat, you focus your attention on Benedict. He watches you with an amused look, and it’s then that you realise that he has stood beside you waiting with his arm out for a minute or so whilst you glared after his younger sister. Taking his arm, you rid yourself of any thoughts of violence against Eloise. Instead, focusing on the man beside you.

“How are you?” You ask, hand resting gently on Benedict’s forearm.

“Do you mean in general or after today’s publication?”

“Both, I suppose.”

“In general, I am quite well. I have a wonderful lady on my arm, and I am in the presence of excellent art work. However, after today’s publication, I must admit I am rather angry.”

“Oh?” You sound, trying hard not to let his words affect you so much but they rattle around your mind on repeat, committing themselves where they will last for an eternity.

“I’ve never been the focus of the gossip paper and now after one ball, I am. I don’t think I like the attention.”

“I don’t believe that for one second, Benedict Bridgerton.”

He pauses, smiling widely down at you. His eyes light up with the smile and your heart begins to pound at the sight of it. “Alright, I do like the attention,” He concedes, “But what I don’t like are the looks I’m getting from all mothers.”

“Why?”

“They all look like I’m about to break their daughter’s heart.”

“I’m sure you’re just imagining things,” You reassure, tightening your grip on his arm.

“I don’t think I am,” He states, nodding politely at Lady Whitelaw who in turn glares at the younger man. He turns his gaze to you as if to say, see?

You turn your face away from him, trying your best to hide the smile and laugh that threatens to break free. “You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?” Benedict guesses, a smile in his own voice.

“I’m not,” You promise, schooling your face into a mask of indifference, focusing on the closest sketch to you. A graphite sketch of Anne Boleyn; marking her beauty only years before her death.

“You are,” Benedict argues, standing beside you, admiring the same sketch. Throwing him a knowing smile, you turn your attentions to rest of the exhibition, unable to hide your awe at just what is being shown to the public.

The art is incredible; your watercolours barely compare to what is being shown in Somerset House. He would disagree in a heartbeat, but Benedict could come close to producing something of this calibre. He had shown his portraits of his mother and brothers; Anthony making the perfect candidate for a painting.

You come to a natural stop in front of a portrait of a young women. A young queen, in fact. This particular queen had never got to reign in the manner that she was capable, dying after giving birth the king’s heir. His one true love, the king had called her after he death.

“She’s beautiful,” You whisper, admiring not only the artistry but also the focus on the painting.

Benedict watches you admiring the portrait painted so carefully by Holbein. Though the portrait is indeed beautiful, Benedict finds himself agreeing that they do not hold a candle to you. As he watches you lift a single hand, trying to dampen the urge to run your fingers over the brush strokes, he thinks to himself that there would be no artist on this earth that would be so talented to capture your beauty.

His breath comes faster; his heart rate increases. He recognises the symptoms; he’s only experienced such signs before. He had been eighteen then; barely a man but man enough to accept that he had fallen in love with his best friend. Years later, here he was, experiencing such feelings once more. Once more, he wonders what it would be like to be loved by you. He cannot help but hope that the mystery woman in the society papers is you.

-------

Dear Reader,

It seems that Mr. Benedict Bridgerton reads my paper!

He was overheard at the Somerset House Holbein exhibition, complaining to Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) about my last column in which I criticised his treatment of the lady in love with him.

All I have to say on the matter is this:

Mr. Bridgerton, for every complaint you offer, you break her heart further. Stop now before you do irreparable damage.

-----

“What does she mean ‘break her heart further’? I’ve been trying to figure out who it is so I can put a stop to it!”

“It doesn’t matter whether you know who it is, Benedict,” You argue, placing your teacup on the table, “But rather the fact that you unknowingly hurt whoever it is that is in love with you.”

“Do my feelings not matter?” He demands, throwing the damned paper onto the table. Benedict runs a hand through his hair, sighing in frustration. “I’m sorry,” He apologises, “I should not have taken that tone with you. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“You’re forgiven,” You laugh, “I’ve heard you say a lot worse.”

He smiles though it doesn’t reach his eyes. Leaning forward on your chair, you wring your hands together, working up the nerve. “What feelings haven’t they taken into account?”

“Lady Whistledown,” He spits the name with derision, “Hasn’t taken into account that I may not have noticed someone in love with me because I am in love with someone myself.”

It’s as if the chair is pulled out from under you; your stomach dips and flips as the world crashes around you and Benedict is none the wiser. He’s none the wiser to the palpable shift that has taken place. Instead, he’s sat down across from, looking utterly defeated.

“Does she know?” You ask after a moment of silence, using the time to pull yourself back together, to compile it all and put it away for later.

Benedict shakes his head; eyes sad as he watches you. “Why haven’t you told her?” You ask, unable to stop the questions now they’re on the tip of your tongue.

“I suppose for the same reason she hasn’t told me. Fear maybe?”

“Fear of what? I’ve never known you to be afraid of anything.”

“Fear of rejection. Fear of humiliation. Fear of ruining a friendship,” He lists off, counting the reasons on his fingers, holding them up for you to see.

“Have you thought about telling her?”

“All the time,” He answers honestly, and you wonder whether the crack your heart makes was audible to the whole of the ton.

“Do you plan on telling them?”

“Eventually.”

You take a deep breath, staring at the teacup instead of him, readying yourself to offer up your broken heart. To confess that the two most recent society papers have been about you; have shown your heart to the whole of London.

“It’s me,” You confess quietly, voice no louder than a whisper but he hears you all the same.

Benedict’s head whips towards you. Had this been another situation, it would have been funny, but the look on his face… “What?” He whispers, shocked.

“It’s me,” You announce; louder this time, ready to lay your heart out on the floor for him to break entirely. “It’s me, Benedict. Lady Whistledown must have overheard Eloise and myself talking at Lady Danbury’s ball the other night. She had caught me watching you dance and asked me outright. I couldn’t deny it. I’ve been in love with you for years, Benedict. For as long as I can remember.”

“For as long as you can remember?”

You nod, wringing your hands together once more. “I didn’t realise until I turned twenty, just what my feelings meant. I think I’ve always been in love with you, Benedict.”

Benedict remains silent; eyes wide, hands slack as they rest on his thighs. He looks like he doesn't believe the very words leaving your mouth; as if he is unworthy of the love you offer him so willingly.

“Say something, please,” You plead, “I know it isn’t proper for the woman to announce her feelings for the man, but I couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. Not when it is the focus for Lady Whistledown to sell more copies of her paper.”

“I didn’t know,” He whispers after a prolonged silence.

“You weren’t to know. You don’t have to feel the same, Benedict.”

“I do as it happens.”

“What?”

“I do feel the same,” Benedict clarifies, standing from his chair, “I’ve loved you since I was eighteen.”

You sniffle slightly; emotional from hearing the words you have longed to hear for years. The words that have haunted your dreams; had you rushing from sleep, so you didn’t let yourself believe an alternate reality.

“You do?”

Benedict nods, “I do. I love you very much.”

“I love you too,” You reply, standing from your chair, reaching for him – not wanting anymore space between the two of you.

He dips his head, pausing mere millimetres away from your lips. The question burns in his eyes; desperate to know whether he can kiss you after so long waiting. Your nod is barely imperceptible but it’s nod, nonetheless.

Slowly, almost wanting to savour every moment, Benedict presses his lips to yours. Reaching up, you haul him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him pressed against you after having waited so long, after having dreamed of this moment for too long.

He tastes like tea and his hands bring to life the butterflies in your stomach as they wander the path of your back, settling on your lower back, dipping you slightly. Benedict groans softly at the feel of you lined up against him. If he had known heaven was this close, he would not have waited this long.

Benedict breaks the kiss; not out of need of air, but to stop himself from taking this too far when you feel like heaven pressed against him. You smile widely, kissing his jaw lovingly before starting to laugh lightly. Benedict’s hands on your waist tighten possessively as he joins you in laughter.

Briefly, he wonders whether this is what it feels like to be loved by you.

********

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagines

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crowdedimagines · 3 years

Text

Familiar Love - Harry Styles

harry and y/n have a hard time staying out of each other’s arms, not that there’s a place they’d rather be Famous!Y/n

“Well well well.” Harry grins, opening his door wider to his home for me.

“Why are you acting all surprised? You invited me here.” I get on my toes to steal a fast peck from him as I walk by. I walk into the living room I have grown very familiar with over the years. Harry’s London home never changes, his one taste of consistency.

“Of course I did, we’re both in London at the same time.”

“I know.” I roll my eyes, backing up the stairs to his room. He matches my steps evenly, pacing us like predator and prey. I slide my jacket off my shoulder, ditching it for the floor. His eyes never leave mine. If I didn’t know this house so well, I would be on my ass by now.

“It’s been a while since this has worked out.” He presses a stolen kiss to my cheek, then another and another, “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed me or a muse?” I bite down lightly on his earlobe, he backs me into his bedroom finally.

“Always miss you.”

“That’s right, you are pretty obsessed with me.” I smirk.

“M’not obsessed with you.” He defends, finally pulling his face away from my neck.

“Well your discography would beg to differ.”

“Shh.” He works on the spot he knows would normally occupy my mind enough that I couldn’t banter. The spot just below my ear where my neck and jaw meet.

“Temporary Fix, Perfect, Change Your Ticket-”

“Alright alright” Harry rolls his eyes, dimples showing up on his cheeks while he fights a smile.

“-and that’s not even counting your solo career” I tease, letting him back me onto his bed. “Only Angel, She-”

“You’re such an ass sometimes.” He shakes his head, as if in disbelief, but his smile only grows wider.

“What?” I scoff feigning shock, “You love my ass.” He presses a kiss to my collarbone.

“Yes, I do. Now shut up so I can love on you for the first time in eight months.”

- - -

Harry and I were the worst and best things to ever happen to each other. We met when we were too young. My career had just started, I had a singular album to my name and was lucky to open for any band that was on a tour. Harry was a couple years into One Direction by the time we met.

It was on a red carpet, thankfully not my first, but my first time being on the carpet for an award show that I actually had a nomination for. This was huge for me. My album had done well, but never expected a recognition like this.

I met Niall before I met Harry. I had bumped into him walking in and he complimented my music, even claiming one of his mates ‘couldn’t get enough of it’. When he said that I wasn’t expecting him to walk me over to meet the rest of the band. Harry had been the ‘mate’ Niall had been referring to.

I lost that night, to Ariana Grande, who in my own opinion deserved it more than me. That night didn’t feel like a loss though, because I got Harry out of it. We quickly became friends, texting, calling, facetiming any time we got the opportunity. One Direction was touring on a constant cycle, and I had just finished mine. I was in the process of writing my sophomore album, Harry flew me out and I ended up staying for the rest of the tour.

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that we started dating, the calls and giddy smiles were enough already to clue in everyone around us. I was able to get a glimpse at the world he lived in with his stardom, and soak in every second he wasn’t on stage. It didn’t take long for fans and the public to catch on. A few too many paparazzi pictures at each concert venue to avoid.

Both of our managements allowed us to openly date, officially coming out to everyone with PDA and everything. It was amazing. I flew back home to Los Angeles to record my second album and before I could blink I was touring it.

Things got hard for Harry and I at that point, we could never manage to be in the same city, or get time off to visit the other. My name was quickly becoming a household one, and One Direction had yet to ever even stall in popularity.

It broke us both completely that after three happy years together, we had to call it quits. Neither of us were ready to give up our lives and it was no longer working to never see each other. We both needed to feel loved, and on opposite ends of the planet it wasn’t enough anymore. It was only a few months after our split that One Direction went on hiatus.

Harry and I remained close. Some would say too close. It started with just being friendly whenever we saw each other at events or things with mutual events. It took one slip up that sent us back into each other’s arms. It was a New Year's party, we agreed to be with each other, because we didn’t have anyone else to kiss at midnight.

Once you get a taste for someone you never stopped loving, it gets pretty hard to stop. So that’s how it all began. Harry and I decided to see each other, date, love, fuck, anytime we both happened to be in the same city. It didn’t happen as often as you would think. We both still had home across the world, and varying tour schedules. We both had on and off again partners, that then the deal would be off, but neither of our partners were ever in the picture for very long. For years it went on like this. It was heartbreak all over again though, once we knew that someone had to leave.

- - -

“Well, that was fun! It’s been a while, Styles.” I let out a sigh to try and gain back my breath. We practically just ran a marathon. Maybe two. He does the same, a grin plastered to his face.

“Too long.” He tilts his head to press a kiss to my bare shoulder.

“Well I do believe a plane works two ways.” I turn on my side to face him, my head resting in my palm.

“Mmm, I’ve been stuck in the studio. I’ve been working on new stuff.”

“Ooh, a new album perhaps?”

“Yeah, it’s been a whole process trying to get all my thoughts out and sorted.” He clears his throat.

“So why not go to Jamaica like you did for your first? A new environment that you can just throw yourself into it.” I question.

“I don’t know, it doesn’t feel like that for me. I did that because it was the first time I was doing music without One Direction. This time it’s a little more on me and how I feel.”

We catch up for nearly an hour before we both feel gross from our previous activity and decide to take a shower. Together obviously.

“Mum and Gem are coming over for brunch tomorrow.” He states.

“Hmm?” I turn away from the shower head to face him again.

“I think they’re going to be here close to 10:00.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” He places a hand on my hip, trapping me between him and the cool tile on the walls. “Never.”

“So what do you want?” I ask, tilting my head up to fully look at him. To read every expression that crosses his face as the water pours over both of us.

“I want you to stay. Have brunch with us.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, pressing a kiss to his peck.

“Yeah, if you can.”

“My fitting isn’t until 2:00 so that should give me plenty of time.” I smile, “Are you sure they aren’t going to think it’s weird that I’m there?”

“They won’t think it’s weird. They’ll both be thrilled to see you. I swear everytime I pick up the phone they’re asking me how you’re doing.”

“That’s funny considering how often that Gemma texts me.” I smile.

“So you’ll stay for brunch?”

“Mhm.” I pull him down to my height for a kiss.

- - -

“Well if it isn’t the one that got away.” Anne teases as she pulls me in for a tight hug.

“Fuck-” Harry sighs, letting out air as if he took an actual physical hit.

“Hi, Anne.” I laugh.

“You just get more and more beautiful every-time I see you.” She holds my face in her hands and she studies me closely. Over the years Anne and I have only grown to be more close, even though I am no longer dating her son she still treats me as family which I can’t help but love her for.

“Let me give her a hug!” Gemma pushes her way in and pulls me in tight against her chest.

“Gem!” I grin.

Harry and Anne walk into the kitchen together with Gemma and I following, arm in arm. I remember this from years ago. The Styles family would like to make brunches together every couple of weeks when they could.

Obviously if Harry was touring or over in the States they couldn’t, but when they could they make the most of it. Everything is made from scratch, together. Nothing is decided until everyone gets there that morning.

“How do we feel about waffles?” Gemma asks.

“And eggs.” Harry adds.

“And bacon.” Anne adds.

Everyone turns to me waiting for my request.

“And fresh fruit.” I smile.

We all get to work and quickly become a well oiled machine. Them it’s not too surprising due to them doing this over the years, but I have to say I am able to jump in with ease.

I cut up various fruits arranging them as beautifully as I can. A vibrant display of colors on the platter.

“Excuse me, love.” He presses a kiss to my temple, a steadying hand at my waist as he reaches for a knife from the island.

I prepare everyone’s drinks around the table as well considering my task went the quickest. Shortly, everyone joins me and we dig in. Everything tastes immaculate.

We dive into conversation, the table never getting quiet for a second. Something I love so much about this family. There’s always something to be said.

“Well, I actually should be going it’s one o clock now, and I still need to drive to the other side of town.” I pick up my plate from the table. We’ve all been done eating for a while now, but the conversation kept us at the table.

“Where are you off to?” Anne asks.

“She’s got a fitting with Gucci.” Harry grins.

“Wipe that smug little grin off your face.” I smack his shoulder lightly.

“Gucci?” Gemma grins even wider than Harry did.

“I am going to be the new face to the brand.” I smile, feeling pink raise up on my cheeks.

“For the whole company?” Gemma cheers.

I simply nod as I grab a few other plates off of the table as I go.

“Can I come with you?” Gemma asks, the two Styles siblings following my into the kitchen.

“Why didn’t you act like this when I modeled for Gucci?” Harry asks, his jealous side coming out.

“Harry, you got a cologne, but she’s getting the whole company!” She huffs, “Do you know what cool clothes she’s going to be trying one?”

“I’m not getting the company!” I roll my eyes, putting the dishes in the wash.

“You didn’t answer the question.” Gemma smirks.

“Yes, Gem.” I laugh, “As long as you can be out the door in five minutes.”

Gemma leaves the kitchen and goes back to tell Anne, leaving Harry and I alone.

“You’re coming back here after, right?” He asks, trapping me against the counter.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll actually be in London for almost the entire campaign. You’re going to be sick of me soon.” I smirk.

“Never.”

- - -

“I am OBSESSED with that yellow jacket you had on!” Gemma sighs dreamily as we enter Harry’s flat several hours later. “It’s to die for!”

“Well, I can see if I can get it for you after the shoot.”

We make our way to the living room where Harry is settled in on the couch with a book.

“An angel.” She turns to her brother, “Did you know this one is an angel?”

“You give me too much credit.” I laugh.

“Thanks for the reminder, Gem.” Harry chuckles.

“Okay, now I will get out of your hair. I’ve already stolen all afternoon with you. Hopefully see you soon!” She pulls me in for a hug, “Love you.” I let Harry walk her to the door to say their goodbyes.

Harry comes back after a few minutes and pulls me down in a hug on the couch. He lets out a deep sigh into my neck, pulling my head in even closer.

“You okay, babe?” I ask, taking note of his obvious mood.

“Mmm, I was just thinking while you were out.”

“And what were you thinking?” I pull back so I can get a good look at his face. It’s always been an easy way to see how he’s feeling.

“I was just thinking that we’re both in such a better place than we were all those years ago. I don’t tour every year anymore, and I’m signed with good management that actually lets me make my own decisions.”

“What are you saying?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck and studying his face closely.

“I’m saying that you only tour ever other year, at max. I do the same now. Why can’t we make this work for real again? We’re both more established now and have the right to chose when and where we do things. I know, we make time for each other when we’re in the same city, but there’s nothing saying we can’t be in the same city. I could live in Los Angeles full time. I could live with you. Or we could both go to New York. I don’t care, as long as we can be together.”

“Harry, you’re sure about this? We haven’t truly been together in a long time. I love spending my time with you, truly, but I don’t want you to uproot your life just for me.” I clarify. He’s saying what I’ve wanted to hear for years, but I just want to make sure we’ve thought things through before I give either of us false hope.

“It wouldn’t just be for you, it would be for us. I love you so much, I feel like I’m wasting time. It seems like a waste to know exactly who your soulmate is, and not do everything in your power to make it work.”

“I love you, too.” I press a fast and passionate kiss to his lips, “Although, I do have one thing that I think we should change.”

“Anything.” He answers, his eyes all gooey and lovey making me break out in a grin. I couldn’t keep a straight face over how I’m feeling if it tried.

“Let me move here.”

“What?” He asks shocked.

“You love London and being close to your family more than anything, I could never ask you to change that.”

“But-”

“And I love being close to them too. If today proves anything, you are my family.”

“Let me make the move” I grin.

“Happily.” Harry’s dimples are on full display.

“Hey, isn’t that another song you wrote about me?” I tease.

“Oh, shut up.” He rolls his eyes, pushing me back against the couch.

plz give me some feedback! i thought this was so cute

#harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #Harry Styles

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warriorsbutnotreally · 2 years

Text

February Types Of Love - Warrior Cats Challenge

for the month of February I want to do types of love and specifically draw some of my favorite Warrior Cats characters with it and I'm posting this to invite you all to do the same with the same prompts.

these specifically will be exploring different types of love, love tropes, etc. Some are meant to be platonic, some are meant to be for family, and some are just straight up romantic love.

I also just wanted an excuse to draw and if you're also looking for an excuse to draw [or write if you don't wanna draw/can't draw], here it is;

1. Self Love

an obvious one, to love one's self. can be for a character that already expresses self love or one you wish deserved to feel like, in the narrative, that they are worthy of loving themselves

2. Friendship

another easy one; your favorite friendship in the books, even if it's one where you have to really read between the lines

3. "Best Friends"

"and history will say they were best friends" even though all signs point to these cats being in love

bit of a play on how straight people try to rewrite gay history

4. Healing Together

can be romantic, platonic, etc. just two [or more] cats who went through hell and are leaning on each other for support as they recover [either physically, emotionally, or both]

5. Parent & Child

the love a parent has for their child is strong and this day is for celebrating your favorite parent with their child [or children]

6. Friends To Lovers

a sadly overlooked, but sweet trope, friends to lovers celebrates people who were already close becoming even closer, while still being the best of friends

7. Platonic

any non-romantic, non-familial love

8. Fake Love Turned True

or "we pretended to get married/date and we're now in love"

9. Soulmates

another classic trope where they're pieces of a missing whole brought together

10. Love Triangle / Three Way Love

and either/or situation; if you have a favorite love triangle, you can go with that one. if not, then you're free to choose a relationship that consists of specifically three characters

11. Siblings

when siblings have a strong bond, it's nearly impossible to break. this day is for celebrating those who are siblings by chance and best friends by choice

12. Familiar Love

can be platonic or familial, but it's a strong bond, kinship, and familiarity between people. non-romantic.

13. Polyamorous

love beyond the boundaries of monogamy

14. Childhood Best Friends

platonic or romantic, but a bond between those who grew up together for as long as either of them could remember

15. Shy Affection

a small touch, a simple look, a flustered smile - a love that makes you weak in the knees and can turn the brave meek

16. Rivals To Lovers

a competitiveness turns to a strange, yet powerful love

17. Selfless Love

a love for those around you that doesn't just stop at those close, but a care for the well-being of all.

18. The One That Got Away / One-Sided

another either-or; it could be a love that slipped away to someone else, or love that stays hidden as the other watches the center of their affection without letting them know how they feel

19. Forbidden Love

technically you can do a forbidden relationship for any of these, but this one is specifically for forbidden love

20. Star-Crossed

love that was meant to be - maybe even one that felt like destiny

21. Finding Love Again

after the pain of either being scorned, losing a loved one, or being burned by a flame too bright, this is for a character finding that they can find a second chance in love

22. Showering With Gifts

admittedly not my cup of tea, but some love languages can be spoken through sharing or giving to one's partner

23. "High School" Sweethearts

high school in quotes cause it's more of a mutual apprentice crush that turned into a relationship after the two got colder

24. Playful Love / "Puppy Love"

a soft and childish love filled with affection - a honeymoon phase that never ends because they fall in love each time they see each other

25. Soft Love

laying in silence, enjoying each other's company, little whispers but nothing too loud. cuddling together, letting the warmth of your partner[s] overtake you and just being happy they're there.

26. Adorned With Flowers

very specifically chosen for flower language. flowers that perfectly describe a relationship or, at least, the two characters in the relationship. flower crowns optional.

27. "Don't Go"

can be sad or bittersweet or even just someone needing to wake up to go on patrol, it's love in which when one party doesn't want to see the other one go

28. "I Adore You"

adoration of any kind - from a powerful love to a deep respect. no matter the type of feelings, it's devotion until the end.

///

if you follow along, feel free to tag me in the posts! I'd love to see what you do! All I ask is to respect my blacklist and not tag me in anything that's listed there.

also if you're doing it as well, you're free to choose between canon or OCs or even both

either way, I have some designs I need to get done before next month comes around so this blog may be a little quiet fdsakh

#warriors #warrior cats #art challenge #writing challenge #either way #you can do whatever makes you happy #i had to check how many days were in this february #cause admittedly #i forgot #i don't keep track of leap years

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clydesdonovan · 2 years

Note

tell me ur cryde thoughts rn!! 🔫

I’m so sorry this is such a delayed reply fksjdkb I started writing up an elaborate answer to this but I was like “actually I don’t like this” so I scrapped it and decided to just write out any thoughts that came to my head instead lol

So!! Here they are :^) Some of these I want to flesh out more and maybe turn into fics, while others are just silly little blurbs

Fake dating au where they (aka Clyde, it’s his idea) decide to pretend to become a real couple to prank their friends, because they constantly tease them for being attached at the hip already. Things are going well and they both have fun messing with everyone… until they both mutually (but like, secretly) realize, oh crap, I think I actually do want to date my best friend???? Sos

Spaceman Craig lives on forever. I love the idea of Craig being knowledge about the planets, stars, constellations etc. They spend a lot of time laying around outside, usually in their backyards, where Craig shows Clyde all of the constellations he can spot. Sometimes he’ll point out any visible planets and just talk about them. Clyde loves listening to Craig happily ramble about space :’)

Clyde lives in Craig’s hoodies. Like, at least 80% of the hoodies in his closet belong to Craig. (He also steals his t-shirts and even his sweatpants. He just steals all of Craig’s clothes over time!) Craig has given up on trying to find his favorite sweatshirts whenever they go missing because, odds are, it’s somewhere in Clyde’s room and he’s never going to get it back because it belongs to Clyde now.

Tricia and Clyde are besties. Clyde loves spoiling her and messing with her like she’s his little sister, since he’s the youngest of his family (remember his sister?? She’s an enigma) and doesn’t have a baby sibling of his own. It annoys Craig sometimes, because Clyde is his boyfriend and they’re supposed to be hanging out but instead, he’s busy playing video games with Craig’s little sister of all people. But he also finds it really cute how much Clyde adores her, and how Tricia really enjoys his company too. So he doesn’t mind that much.

Likewise, Roger loves Craig and he always has. Clyde told his dad that he thought he liked boys when he was in middle school, but he wasn’t seeing anyone or anything. Though he never said so to Clyde, Roger always kinda guessed Craig was part of Clyde’s self discovery and assumed it would just be a matter of time before they actually got together as a couple. Then, a few years later, he officially introduced Craig as his boyfriend and Roger was seriously thrilled. There is no better partner for his son, as far as he’s concerned.

Like the nerds that they are, they used to climb through each other’s windows in the middle of the night. It was fun and made them feel ~cool~. It lasted until Clyde lost his balance and nearly fell straight to the ground, and the ruckus of Craig scrambling to pull him inside woke his parents… who were just like, “ugh whatever, Clyde please just use the door next time. We already know you come like every night anyway.”

Hockey player Clyde (my beloved) injures his knee during a game. He’s fine, but he has a little trouble walking, and he’s very over dramatic about it. So Craig takes it upon himself to give him piggy backs whenever Clyde starts complaining that his knee hurts. Craig tells him it’s because he just wants him to shut up, but it’s really because Craig feels bad for him (and he kinda has fun doing it anyway).

College based au where they’ve sorta faded out of contact as life got in the way, but they reconnect when they go home for the holidays. They fall back together easily and soon enough, it’s like they’ve never even left. But!! This rekindling of their friendship brings a lot of old, buried and unsaid feelings back to the surface. Since things already fell apart once, they’re left with the question of “well, what do we do now?”

Another college au of sorts, maybe, but one where they become roommates instead of splitting up. Oh my god, they were roommates!!

This isn’t a headcanon really but I just love the idea of Craig with braces (a classic) and Clyde with glasses, and the two of them looking like “two halves of a whole dork” (as stated lovingly by Token).

I don’t have anything fleshed out for this either, but I want to try and write an adult cryde fic where they have kids too. All of the style content with future Kyle’s kids has made me feel really inspired lol. Maybe their future kids can be bffs :^)

And finally, honorary shoutout to this cryde scream au that has taken over my life for the past week or so 🖤

#asks #amporella #I’m gonna tag this actually #cryde #:^)#fellow crydes come give me your thoughts

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softrozene · 4 years

Text

Reacting to their crush/future significant other who has scars

I hope I have Katakuri’s character down! It is my first time writing for him officially, so I am excited! As for this whole request? You got me excited the second you mentioned John Marston’s scar. I got too pumped up for this that I ended up doing these as scenarios with bonus headcanons! I really hope you like this Lovely and apologies for it taking so long to get to!

Charlotte Katakuri, Trafalgar Law x Reader (Gender Neutral/Non-Binary)

Warnings: Slight angst, Fluff, hints of past violence/trauma from battles, scars

Words: 1758

Charlotte Katakuri-

*Uh this bro is so tall so um pretend you are the same height, he’s hunching down, or you are on a ladder or something lol

Katakuri glances around the room feeling a slight annoyance. His betrothed is late. Though thinking of them does make him feel emotionally calmer it does not excuse that they are late. Especially since he wanted to speak with them about something important.

Just then, the door to his room flies open and his betrothed comes in panting from an obvious rush. You look a bit flustered from being late, but you quickly compose yourself. It is something Katakuri admires since you are similar to him. Calm and levelheaded most of the time but upon getting this arranged marriage- Both of you have become accustomed to different fluttery feelings when with each other.

Katakuri has no idea how to feel about it (and is not aware that he is crushing) but he concludes it to be a good thing since he enjoys your company.

“Sorry I am late Katakuri. Perospero and I were having tea and he wanted me to start calling him Brother Peros from now on then on the way here I ran into Compote who wanted to have a serious talk about my family’s new alliance with Big Mom. I assured her that I am with you guys all the way and that they will follow her. Anyway, enough excuses, what did you wish to talk about?” You ask trying to stop your fingers from fidgeting.

Since you walked in all he has done is stare you down and usually, it would not bother you, but you honestly felt bad for being late. You wanted to be the perfect partner for him since all he has done is shown you kindness since the announcement of your engagement.

“I wanted to finally speak-“ He pauses as he hesitates.

This is something he does a bit often with you- Use his Observation Haki to foresee into the future is something he often does but he does more so with you when you have talked so he does not misstep. He quickly continues after you are about to ask him what is wrong.

“I apologize for that. I just was about to get straight to the point, but I feel like I need to emphasize something before I do. We are getting married soon. The date is coming up fast and I wanted to show you something but just now I saw you crying. Before I do, I need to let you know that I see you as my equal and I am proud to have you as my betrothed. I have never seen my siblings actually want to get to know an in-law as much as they do you so thank you for wanting to genuinely be apart of our family,” Katakuri states.

His words make your heart beat fast, but you nod for him to continue. “I wanted to show you my mouth. I do not like others seeing it, but we will soon be married, and you will have the right to see all of me as I do you,” He continues.

He pauses once more to make sure that he did change the future even if it was just a little bit. The amount of trust he places in you does make you want to cry but instead, you feel like you want to meet him on the trust to. You decide you will finally show him your other scars.

After he deems you okay, he takes off his mouth covering and stares at you waiting for any response. He knows that you would never make fun of him but that amount of insecurity he has to tell him otherwise. So, he is surprised when he feels your warm hand cup his scarred face.

You give him a gentle smile and say, “We do not nearly match but I do think we are the perfect match for each other.”

His heart melts at this and he is quick to cup your own scarred cheek. His thumb rubs against them and then your eyes downcast. You back up from his touch and he grows irritated momentarily from no longer touching you when you turn around and begin to take off your shirt. His eyes scan what he sees immediately. More scars litter your back.

You let him view it a moment longer before fixing your shirt.

“I think we are good now. We both have seen more of each other,” You say a bit worried he may not find you attractive anymore.

He returns to touching your cheek and with the mouth covering no longer on him, he gives you a genuine smile that washes away your doubts. “Yes, we have. I can’t wait until you officially become my spouse.”

Bonus Headcanons:

His initial reaction is neutral

He does not exactly care until he has an emotional connection then he will wonder

I think Katakuri would love his significant other with or without scars- He would want to know the story behind them, but he won’t straight up ask either

He loves to trace them when he gets sleepy and it becomes one of his favorite things to do when it is just you two alone

He will only tell you once, but he also likes when you trace his facial scars or pepper his mouth with kisses

Since he is very serious (even more so) with family members and you become his spouse he will definitely be putting lotion on your scars- He believes in taking care of them since they tell a story about you

Trafalgar Law-

“Hey Cap, (Name) fell asleep on Bepo again,” Penguin states coming into Law’s office/infirmary.

Law stares and waits for more words because there is just no way his crew is bothering him over this. Sachi who peeks in continues thankfully. “And their shirt lifted up- I think you should come see this,” Shachi murmurs.

The serious nature of the two surprises Law and he almost thinks they are sick. He says nothing, as he gets up and wordlessly, follows them- Sleep very much wanting to cloud his mind after being up all night. They lead Law to Bepo who has not moved a muscle since you fell asleep on him. Nothing so far out of the normal until Law’s observant eyes look for the part of the shirt that is lifted up and indeed-

His eyes widen and he sighs.

“Let them sleep longer. Then send them to my room,” Law orders.

He is careful as he quickly fixes their shirt and leaves. His thoughts are immediate. Something bad happened to you in the past, that much is clear, and it honestly explains a lot. How you are so slow with opening up and he honestly can’t blame you. That is why he likes you and the little moments when you do open up to him.

They mean something to him and those scars on your back are from stories you are not ready to tell. He will tell you of this mishap, but he will not push you- He would not even dream of it because he cares about you so much it hurts. He knows what this feeling is, and he wants to chase it but you both are holding back with your pasts latching onto you. That is why he has not really said anything about his feelings despite him wanting to.

They are nothing like the ones on your face either. The ones are on your face are just two/three long scars across your face- Almost like an animal attack, the ones on your back must be from previous battles or something equally terrifying if they have you closed off.

With a sigh, Law goes to his room and waits until you are up.

When Law opens his eyes, he realizes that he has taken a brief nap but immediately sees you come in and close the door behind you. Your expression tells him that someone said something. He groans and quickly says something to reverse the damage.

“Penguin and Shachi saw them and told me. You do not need to explain yourself in any way. I am not surprised, to be frank, because you are incredibly strong and have proven to be a valuable asset to my crew,” He states.

He watches your expression for a moment until you turn around and without any hesitation pull off your shirt. Law is surprised and a bit guilty for feeling his heart flutter at the bold action. Quickly pulling his mind from the gutter he takes small steps to you.

“I do not want to explain yet, but you are the person I trust most Law. I want you to at least look at what I have been hiding since I know you are the least to pity me for them,” You state.

The air feels like it turns intimate the second Law puts a finger on your back, but it remains full of trust as he casually traces each large and long battle scar. When he finishes you put your shirt back on and turn to look at him.

“I will tell you everything soon. I- Thank you for being a trustworthy and… an attractive captain,” You say with a wink.

Ah, it appears it was not just law feeling the connection. His cheeks feel warm and he smirks. He is happy to know that the attraction is mutual.

Bonus headcanons:

Law’s initial reaction is concern- Only because you are a member of his crew, when feelings get involved his concern worsens but, of course, he will not voice it unless this doctor decides to play therapist too

He will not voice it until you two are actually dating and involved with each other

Then he will be happy to know everything about you and may hint towards it, but he would never push for it

If the face scars make you feel bad about yourself he will definitely be like “oh hell no you are perfect” and obliterate anyone who says otherwise

As for the back scars, if it is a lot and from battles, you do not wish to remember he will hint towards getting a tattoo

And let’s face it

Law would definitely have matching tattoos with his significant other

Much like Katakur- Law would love to trace your scars and does so when he is sleepy

He also melts when you trace his tattoos

#my writing #charlotte katakuri #trafalgar law #one piece x reader #one piece #katakuri x reader #trafalgar law x reader #gender neutral reader #nonbinary reader #fanfiction #scenarios #headcanons #one piece fanfiction #one piece scenarios #one piece headcanons

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highnonsenselogic · 2 years

Text

So you´re gay

A little hc I had on the topic of Nico coming out to Camp Halfblood

„So you never wanted to stay at camp because you were afraid we would judge you for your sexuality?“, Percy asked, his mesmerizing green eyes swirling with an emotion that seemingly couldn´t decide between sadness, humour and exasperation.

I answered him blatantly annoyed: „I was already an outcast for who my father is, can you imagine what would have happened if certain people found out I was gay on top of that?!“

Was that really so hard to understand? I mean, yes, Percy could be dense sometimes, but even he must have noticed the glances and murmurs whenever I had dared to set foot into camp after my powers outed me as a child of the underworld.

„Nico… when I first came here, they called me a cursed child, a herold of tragedy and disaster. In fact, they were pretty much sceptic of every halfblood with an uncommon parentage. Most of that changed after the second Titan War. I am sorry I couldn´t make you feel welcome enough to maybe give it a chance. They would have get used to you pretty quickly. I mean, how could they not? You are an awesome guy! And about your second argument: Look over there, in the arena. What do you see?“

I looked to where he was pointing and recognized two figures who where engaged in a heated session of sword practice. „That´s Alex and … Lewis?“

„Levin, but close. What are they doing?“

„Sparring??“

Percy didn´t seem quite satisfied with my answer. „Look a little bit closer.“ I turned my gaze back on the two fighting demigods. It was a pretty balanced match, a mesmerizing display of strength and speed. They exchanged blow after blow without being able to land a hit. Finally Levin got a little bit too engrossed in his elaborate moves, thus leaving his right side vulnerable. It was just for a second, but it was enough. Alex changed the direction of his sword mid attack and punished Levin for his thoughtlessness by slamming him into the closest wall, leaving Levin momentarily stunned.

I watched with rapt attention as he stepped closer and closer until his body was just barely brushing the toned figure of his opponent. Then he slowly shifted his weight and leaned in, moving his face to Levin´s until it looked like he was whispering something into the other´s ear. Levin tensed and in the blink of an eye Alex found himself flipped onto the sandy floor, arms pinned over his head and thoroughly secured by the full weight of one seriously ripped demigod. Levin smirked at his friend below him, then mirroring the other`s earlier actions he began leaning down towards Alex´s face.

Even from where I was standing I could feel the loaded atmosphere. Finally, finally their lips got almost close enough to touch, softly grazing – just for Levin to pull away laughing, leaving Alex gasping and pouting at his partner.

„Are they … were they just…“ My mind felt like funny string stuck in a fan as I struggled to form a coherent sentence. „Teasing each other?“ Percy helpfully put in, „Yes, this is actually a pretty common form of flirting around here.“

By now the two boys in the arena were full on making out with each other, no regard at all for any possible spectators. „Oh my gods, are they gonna - “ „No, absolutely not!“, Percy interrupted, seeming whole heartedly disturbed by what I was implying.

„Officially camp has a strict no sex policy. Unofficially, demigods or not, teenagers are terribly horny so we have some rules. Rule one: No sexual intercourse in public areas. Two: Always use protection. Three: Give your siblings a heads up if you wanna use your cabin. Four: no sex under fourteen. Five: Remember that the trees have eyes. And the most important one: mutual outspoken consent before any advances into sexual terrain. It doesn´t matter if you´ve had sex just five minutes prior, give a quick yes yourself and wait for your partner to do the same before you go there again.“

Halfway through this lecture Percy´s voice had taken on a practiced tone, like he was reciting something he had told many times before. „What, are you the sex-ed teacher around here or something?“

Percy chuckled. „Nah, but I´m head counselor of my cabin. All counselors are required to take a seminar about mental health, sex education and so on to be able to help their siblings. That includes sitting down any new inhabitant to give them The Talk. You can actually go to any counsellor and talk to them about your problems or ask for advice in any matter, we are all sworn to secrecy. Unless we think your planning on committing suicide or something, in that case we are obliged to tell Chiron or Mr D.“

I still registered Percy´s words, but my mind was stuck on the image of Percy sitting down some poor new camper and explaining to them about the birds and the bees. If I hadn´t had a reputation to uphold I might have started giggling, as it was I did my best to not let my amusement be shown on my features.

„Are you laughing at me?“ Percy pouted, futilely trying to figth the smile appearing on his face. „Just wait till things have settled down a bit. You are the only resident Hades child, which means you´re gonna have to attend the same seminars to be able to educate any future siblings or nephews and nieces you might get!“ By the end of the sentence he was positively smirking and I didn´t even try to mask the horror consuming me at the thought.

I desperately looked around for anything I could use to change the subject. My eyes fell on Milena Müller and another girl I didn´t know yet sitting on the wall surrounding the archery range. There was nothing suspicious about the way they were talking, but with my newfound insight I looked at their joined hands and narrowed my eyes. „So it´s okay to be gay here?“

Percy gave me a playfully unbelieving look: „Dude, we are GREEK! We have the gayest history to ever gay! Have you never read the Iliad??“

„So how many campers like me are there?“

„You mean queer or strictly gay?“

„Queer?“

„Well at LEAST half of the Aphrodite and Apollo cabins are bi or pan, many of the Athena kids are ace or demi. The Ares campers are usually just naturally attracted to warriors, wether it be a soldier, a civil rights activist, a nurse, fire fighter or cancer survivor. The rest of us are pretty evenly mixed I´d say.“

„No, that´s - well that´s nice, but I actually I meant what is „queer“. Or any of the other terms you just used for that matter.“

Percy laughed and then let out a dramatic sigh while throwing an arm around my shoulders. „Fear not, young padawan, I shall teach you everything you need to know to sail the oceans of the queer!“

#percy jackson #heroes of olympus #nico di angelo #camp halfblood #chb #gay #coming out #greek #queer #sparring equals flirting #highnonsenselogic

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gaawachan · 3 years

Text

Critical Role 135 Discord Convo (Topic: Shipping?)

Some pre-convo context: This conversation meandered a bit so there's a lot of stuff that may turn up in other conversations later; it was really late and so a lot of things were only briefly touched on.

Me: You know... people are gonna freak out if LoB doesn't just cave and romance Essek at this point. If he wasn't planning on doing so then his roleplay during the past few episodes is gonna cause backlash, I think.

Sibling: I think he was on the fence and then Matt was like, "Okay, I have to push this because I currently have plans to make Astrid a victim of Trent and/or the big bad of Caleb's arc."

Me: Certainly feels that way, lol. Matt's definitely the one that's been doing the pushing post-boat scene.

Sibling: Pretty much-- Matt has kept Essek near Caleb for every moment that he can

Me: (Caleb did tell Essek to stay close, lol) But in the past couple of episodes Liam's gone back to reciprocating. If he isn't planning on shipping it, he shouldn't do that.

Sibling: Despite Lucien's eyes. Oh for sure. I think he is though. Why else would LoB post stuff like *examples of LoB's twitter activity*? He doesn't egg on Astrid/Caleb shippers lol

Me: That's true.

Sibling: Plus, Essek is purple.

Me: Of course we weren't in the fandom when Vaxmore happened and then dropped, so we don't know if Liam did the same thing with that ship.

Sibling: God I hope not... C'mon, give us a bit of beeg yoshi

Me: Having watched half of season 1, I can say that there was way, waaaaaaaay less tension and such between Vax and Gilmore. Vax liked Shaun a lot, and Shaun was in love with Vax... but they had nothing in common, they didn't have any real theme/plot/setting/interest ties or anything. Just a vanilla relationship, like, they went out on lunch dates.

Sibling: It's funny because OTHER non-shippers came onto that ship-positive trend and started talking about Vaxmore and how more "real" it was. And I'm like, I feel like slow-burn romances are far more "real" than people hopping on each other as soon as that they get a chance (COUGH COUGH BEAUYASHA I'M SORRY COUGH). Don't disparage lunch dates, btw; there's nothing gayer than that.

Me: No, don’t get me wrong, I was actually about to post that "I can see why people like that because it feels realistic" The bigger problem with Vaxmore was simply that they didn't see Gilmore very often. I think Liam would have been more interested in continuing that ship if Gilmore had not been... well, the Pumat Sol of the campaign. Just not very relevant. This isn't the case for Essek; he is THE npc of this campaign, basically. He's more involved than any other NPC in either season. Side note: if C1 and C2 had happened concurrently, I'd have totally shipped Gilmore with Mollymauk.

Sibling: OH TOTALLY

Me: Lol

Sibling: Essek and Caleb have many interests in common, and Liam has CANONIZED Caleb's attraction to him, both intellectually and physically. They have expressed a desire to spend time together, platonically? to improve their craft. They have worked to improve with each other, speak with each other in a way that they don't with others-- not even people they're supposedly closer to. Essek has had a turn of his morals BECAUSE of Caleb's actions... What do other ships in this season have? Caleb and Astrid; they have shared misery and a past that stains ALL of their interactions. Maybe there is love left, but it would need a TON of work, and she is never onscreen long enough for that to be established. There's not really any tension aside from the viewers' "is this a villain" tension. Not even the dance felt good, it was transactional and there to hide information being exchanged and then they LEFT. Caleb and Eodwulf; Caleb said his forearms were hot, lol? But Eodwulf has even less time than Astrid, and hasn't even really piqued the rest of the cast's interest, in spite of Caleb's history with him. Caleb and Jester; Might have worked if JESTER WAS EVER INTERESTED IN HIM. AND SHE NEVER WAS AND STILL ISN'T. She was smitten with Fjord the moment she started projecting him onto Tusk Love lol. Caleb and Nott; I'm not touching this one Non-Caleb ships are like: Fjord and Jester; Sweet, predictable, pretty much how I pictured it being when it became canon. Jester being exactly the same and Fjord being openly affectionate. Maybe some priorities being changed around. Beau and Yasha; I'm NGL, I feel like they're together... because they're lesbians? And not because they actually have much in common aside from that? It's sweet, but if we're speaking purely from a like... chemistry standpoint? This one falls on its face. But, no, I'm sorry. Just because Caleb isn't literally devouring Essek's face whenever he's on screen (though he slobbers like he wants to whenever Essek uses Dunamancy), doesn't mean that the ship is "invisible". It's invisible to people who are only used to overt ships I guess But I'm sorry, I need to go back through and make a "Caleb slobbers over Essek doing magic" compilation. Because it doesn't exist yet, and yet it happens all the time lol And people are like "where attraction" RIGHT THERE, GUYS

Me: Speaking of Jester, actually. Jester's funny because early on she actually did tease/flirt with Caleb quite a bit... but then she stopped doing it. When? I'd say it happened right around the same time Caleb started having feelings for her, imo, after their waltz, when he said Astrid's name. Jester and Fjord were caged together in the Sour Nest and I think that, followed by the Fjord/Avantika arc, really sealed the deal for where her interests went. Also, Jester and Nott wrote that letter to Astrid, so by that point I think it's pretty safe to say that Jester not only was not interested in Caleb; she wasn't even interested in teasing/lightly flirting with him anymore. Also Caleb eyescrews Essek a lot... so yeah what are these people smoking? Even LoB, who has been wishy washy about the ship, has been pretty upfront about Caleb's interest in Essek.

Sibling: I don't think Widojest people want Caleb to be with someone happy and who makes him happy. Essek is not a happy man but Caleb's mood certainly seems to brighten whenever he shows up.

Me: I mean, there IS chemistry between Caleb and Jester but the issue is that the two characters view each other completely differently. She just doesn't see him that way. The other half of the equation is that Caleb tends to treat Jester as being more than just the cutesy trickster and a lot of the other cast members haven't really shown that? They tend to undermine her a lot actually. It's most obvious with respect to the Traveler. Caleb actually respects her relationship with Artagan. Other members of the group just hate him and have made it clear to her that they feel that way. That includes BOTH Fjord and Beau. Like if you compare the conversations she had with Fjord and with Caleb on Rumblecusp, it's night and day, but it doesn't matter because she just doesn't view Caleb as a prospective partner at all. She tends to frame their relationship in the same way several of the characters in the party frame their dynamics with Caleb. "I want to help him but I have no idea what the fuck to say or do." She'd still above average compared to the group at doing so but that's because of her mother's influence, not because she has feelings for him. Ngl, if I WERE to ship Caleb with someone other than Essek at this point I think I would pick Jester just because they have a mutual respect for each other. Oh oh here's an example. Okay, so Caleb's room for Jester in the tower right? It's very similar to her childhood room, but he deliberately "adults" it up, because he respects her as an adult. What was Fjord's gift to her in Rexxentrum? A child's toy. A unicorn statue. And that's cute and all, but... uh...

Sibling: A little infantilizing?

Me: Yes exactly, and it's the same way he behaves about her relationship with Artagan. One could easily argue that Fjord treats Jester sort of like she's the pixie girl stereotype, but that's just surface-level stuff about Jester. You'll notice that Fjord and Jester's conversations tend to lean cutesy and immature, but when Jester talks with Caleb, it's very often a thoughtful and deeper conversation, so I DO see why people ship it.

Sibling: I mean, but that's my problem with it. Maybe it's better than Fjorjester, but Liam doesn't lick his lips every single time Jester breathes too hard.

Me: Lol. Personally I think that part of the problem is that 1) Travis isn't comfortable with doing romance, and Fjord is awkward af, and 2) Jester/Laura has tried to get him to talk with Jester on a deeper level and it hasn't really been successful, and she's let some opportunities slip by, but Liam rarely passes up the opportunity to have a deeper conversation with other players, so he ends up having more serious conversations with Jester simply because Liam seeks out those conversations.

Sibling: Well Liam loves character romances. It's why his second character left as many options open to him as possible lol. It's the stark difference between Liam and Travis. Travis is only comfortable romancing his wife fictionally lol. Liam loves the way you can reexamine a character and reshape their ending with those choices and I think he's way more willing to just go "screw it, my character is horny AF for this wizard boy, what are you going to do Matt?" "my character is also horny for my party member, but it's probably unrequited, but I'm going to stick with it for character depth"

Me: Seriously though go back and rewatch the Rumblecusp conversations Jester had with Fjord and with Caleb. You could SEE it in Jester. Fjord was NOT saying anything she wanted or needed to hear. I thought she actually looked pretty hurt.

Sibling: Oh, I remember being like "well that was deflating" and it's why she kept asking people. She's looking for answers, and pretty much everyone pussyfooted around it becawuse she's such a cuwuty.

Me: Yes, props to Caleb for stepping up, even though he didn't give her the answer she wanted either. That's precisely the problem with her dynamics with other characters. They're too busy fawning over how cute she is and trying to shield her to get to anything much deeper.

Sibling: Whereas Caleb thought of her as a woman- someone he really liked, from... like super early on.

Me: Oddly the end result is that the non-stop shielding of Jester has inhibited Laura's ability to grow Jester as a character. Which has to be frustrating as a player.

Sibling: I think it probably has been. Especially because I think she wanted to explore how being in a romance would change her. She even hinted to that way earlier: "That's not at all how love is depicted in the books we read..." "You mean the porn books we read?"

Me: The character is rarely challenged and hasn't really been forced to change. She has changed in that she's matured from experience, but it's subtle and it isn't really acknowledged much. Nothing screamed this more than the climax of Traveler-con, where she was staring down the barrel of a monumental life-change and her cutesyness somehow convinced the planetar to be like... "fine, bye." Even MATT regretted that decision in the Talks afterward.

Sibling: Oh for sure! She just gets everything and you know what sucks? I think LAURA wanted Artagan to be taken. It would have devastated Jester but it would have forced her to change.

Me: Well actually, Laura said that she was going to offer to worship the Moonweaver instead of the Traveler if it meant she'd spare him punishment. When she said that, Matt's whole face just dropped; he was so upset that he wasted that opportunity, but that's the cost of treating Jester like she needs coddling. It's like... bro... she ax murders people... come on.

Sibling: She burns people to death with sacred flame and gets people lost in the woods by messing with road signs.

Me: She's been tortured and barely shows the trauma of it at all (can't believe that went unaddressed btw)... She can handle pushback... Like again, Caleb. Early on she butted heads with Caleb because she's a spoiled rich kid, but you'll notice that after offending him like that? She never did it again.

Sibling: Because she's a good person capable of introspection and changing her behavior to help people.

Me: It's a small thing but Jester actually became a better person precisely because Caleb didn't handle her with kid gloves.

Sibling: That even ties back to her dropping her flirting when "Astrid" was brought up.

Me: Yep

Sibling: ... Shadowgast is still better.

Me: Yep. I don't hate widojest and I think that of all the jester pairings it's probably the best, but of all the Caleb pairings Shadowgast is best.

Sibling: I mean, Shadowgast is best even by virtue of like... who else would you pair Essek with that he could still stick around the party for? He's only interested in Caleb lol. That's not to say he doesn't LIKE the rest of the cast, but back to the deep conversations thing...

Me: I've seen some people shipping Widojessek, lol.

Sibling: There's really only one person (and one group chat) where he had those sorts of opening up moments. Poor Fjord- just got a GF and people are already cucking him.

Me: Lol. Oh, man... Caleb and Essek really need to talk about the assembly. Specifically Caleb's past and what Essek's dealings with them were like in more detail.

Sibling: Matt tried to lol and Caleb was like "yeah okay i got plans, but also paper"

Me: Essek needs to be more direct because Caleb doesn't WANT to talk about it.

Sibling: He can't, he's a wizard. No melee attacks, emotionally or verbally.

Me: Well, the issue is that Essek prods at Caleb's goals, which are nebulous (so Caleb really can't give a satisfactory answer, and he also can't answer without talking about his past first). And when he prods about Caleb's past, he's too indirect. He needs to directly ask about Caleb's past FIRST if he wants more information about Caleb's goals.

Sibling: The next time they're in the tower (which I fear won't be for a while) Essek literally needs to be like "I'm drowning in guilt, you need to tell me about what I was involved with so I can manage it" He'd probably give him a few crumbs lmao. If Essek makes it about himself, Caleb is less likely to close up.

Me: Yes, that is exactly how Essek needs to frame it. "I don't have a full understanding of the nature of the people I gave power to. I know now that they're more terrible than I thought, but not exactly how. I think that in order to fully grasp what I have done, I need to know more about them." It's pretty blatant bait but Caleb would probably be convinced by it anyway.

Sibling: Oh for sure. Caleb can't exactly run away from that either; he's too chicken to flee from conversations. He freezes and either spills or clams up.

Me: At this point, there's really no GOOD reason to NOT tell Essek about his past. There's nothing to lose from it, and a decent amount to gain; it could turn Essek actively hostile towards the Assembly rather than keeping him cowering in Eiselcross.

Sibling: He's uncomfortable with it (trauma will do that) Doesn't want to get sidetracked (Essek told him not to) Haven't had a good time to do so (no privacy) Doesn't want Essek to distance himself from him (most likely)

Me: This is true, but he's already told the people who he least wanted to tell (Jester and Caduceus) ... Actually, my suspicion is...

Sibling: And neither of them pulled away from him-- eh? Me: ... that Caleb doesn't want to tell Essek because he's worried that Essek will, well... uh, treat him like a child. Caleb was so young, and telling the story of his past also means admitting that he's 11 years younger than he appears. And there is some amount of Caleb's view of his past that is irrational and he chafes viciously whenever someone tries to downplay his culpability by pointing out his age at the time.

Sibling: I think he already has. Don't try to tell me about how not patronizing that "Young Man" line was lol. It was meant in good faith but... I think Caleb does the abuse victim "the idea of ever being young and vulnerable again is terrifying" thing pretty convincingly. It's also sort of a rewind back to his respect for someone who seems outwardly childish, but is an adult whose choices need to be respected.

Me: There is another matter which... Well, Caleb is slowly coming to terms with his status as a victim (veeery slowly) but I think if Essek were to learn about his past, and taking into account their different cultural perspectives on age, Essek might have a hard time not reacting more in line with Beau/Nott's initial reactions to the full tale. Beau said she thought it was nothing to be ashamed of (and Caleb started laughing hysterically) and then Nott just full-on denied that any of it was his fault (which is completely at odds with his own belief), and since Essek's gut reaction to hearing the story is probably going to be something like "Trent is a baby torturer" ... That's not an easy thing for Caleb to stomach.

Sibling: And yes, Essek will absolutely have that reaction because at that age humans are still fetuses to him.

Me: This brings me to my final point. Caleb may be worried that Essek learning all of this and thinking that way will damage Essek's ability to see Caleb as his mirror. He may view it as a threat to the life-line he threw Essek that night in Nicodranas.

Sibling: And then it's not about bettering each other... It's about Essek being alone again and Caleb being alone.

Me: However, Essek's insistence that he is sure nothing Caleb has done could compare to what Essek has done does mitigate that risk significantly. It's just a matter of whether or not Caleb can see that and Essek can be pushy enough to get him to crack.

Sibling: I know Essek has it in him. He can forsake his country's precious artifacts to an opposing nation, he can push his BF to open up to him about his problems. Caleb, on the other hand, has been exceedingly fragile... since you know... GOING BACK TO THE ASYLUM, so I don't know if he's in a state to have that discussion, but if they don't have it soon, by the time Essek talks to him again Trent will probably be dead.

Me: Caleb is pretty blatant about his compartmentalization and deflection. He feels it's necessary in the current circumstance with the Tomb Takers, but somebody really needs to step up after Lucien's taken out and talk to Caleb about this stuff. Essek would be ideal because Caleb could benefit the most from Essek's perspective, I think, but really... anyone other than Veth is better than nothing. Going back to the Asylum was very obviously a severe triggering event and NO ONE TALKED ABOUT IT. Like, jfc, guys, Beau is right. She asked if Caleb was even capable of working alongside Trent, and Caleb said yes (if he thought it was necessary), but we all, WE ALL know that he can't. Not after that disaster.

Sibling: Especially because both Veth and Jester saw him go straight into "OH GOD WE'RE GOING TO DIE, HE'S HERE AND WE'RE GOING TO DIE, I'M GOING TO KILL HIM BEFORE HE HURTS ANYONE" and they were like "he can probably handle this"

Me: He was already borderline in that headspace BEFORE Trent showed up.

Sibling: And then afterward, he went straight into a dangerous self-destructive spiral. Like... I know we've said this before but thank GOD for that failed persuasion check.

Me: That nat 1 was poetry on so many levels. On a meta level the sheer luck of it was a delight, but within the context of the story I think it was great that Essek is just like... "No. I am not crossing this line, not even for you."

Sibling: It worked narratively, meta-narratively, and saved Matt from having to draw up a bunch of ambush situations made by Volstruckers when Trent inevitably backstabbed them.

Me: Can you imagine poor Matt trying to play the Tomb Takers, Trent, Astrid, Wulf, and Essek... AND Charlie/Devexien?

Sibling: He already forgets to play Essek, and he only had a few NPCs to deal with.

Me: Even purely from a gameplay standpoint, can you imagine all the loot they Nein would lose in Aeor if they had brought scourgers with them? What if they found that dunamis machine?

Sibling: EXACTLY.

Convo ended here, but I had some more thoughts. It was just too late to keep talking. For example, I like FjordxJester and BeauxYasha. I think they are actually complicated relationships but they just haven't really had the room to be deeply explored/examined, for example. I also did not go into nearly as much detail about my thoughts on VaxxShaun as I would have liked to mostly because that ship wasn't the point of the discussion. ... oh god how do I even tag this?

#critical role #critrole #critical role spoilers #critrole spoilers #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #shadowgast #jester lavorre

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labyrinth-runner · 3 years

Note

yak who this is 😘 So ani and reader are undercover on a mission, and there’s some mutual pining, and they have to play a couple for this and i’ll let you decide from there

I AM SO SORRY THAT THIS HAS SIT HERE FOR AS LONG AS IT HAS.

It’s also like 4000 words for which I offer up no apologies.

No warnings apply. @workitholland

“The two of you will be sent to Corellia,” Mace Windu said without room for argument.

“Spy on the locals, you shall. Learn about the secret ship trading, you must,” Master Yoda said gravely.

You cast a glimpse towards the Jedi Knight beside you. “If we are to spy, we cannot be seen as Jedi, I’m assuming.”

“No, you are not,” Mace replied, folding his arms.

“Undercover, you shall go. The cover story, up to you it is. Find the information, you must. Details, we need not ask for,” Master Yoda said.

The Council stared at you in silence for a moment.

“I know this goes without saying, but your mission is secret. Tell no one,” Mace said in a serious tone.

“Yes, Masters,” you replied, bowing politely before excusing yourself from the room along with your new partner.

You studied him as you exited the room, remembering how close you had been as padawans, having drifted since the war started and put you on different paths. That didn’t mean you hadn’t kept up with the man’s lucrative career. He was a Holonet star in his own right by now, a fact that was not lost on you.

“How are we going to go about this, Master Skywalker?” you asked, turning a keen eye on him.

He seemed to wither under your scrutiny for a moment before regaining his bravado, “You mean our cover stories?”

“We could be siblings,” you proffered.

“Or lovers,” he said with a sly smirk. “We could be on Corellia for our honeymoon.”

“It isn’t a very romantic destination,” you replied. “Pirates and thugs everywhere.”

“Romance can happen under any conditions,” he replied as he got to the transport that the Council had prepared for you.

“Very well,” you sighed, but you couldn’t help the slight tinge of blush on your cheeks.

The two of you made your way up into the craft, settling in to pilot it. In order to remove suspicion, you were to make a series of jumps instead of flying straight from Coruscant. While in hyperspace, you found civilian clothes and changed. It felt strange to be out of your robes. They were as much a part of you as your lightsaber in a way, an outward expression of your devotion to the order. Looking in the mirror, you turned this way and that trying to alleviate some of the awkwardness you felt.

“You don’t look as bad as you think you do,” Anakin said.

You jumped at the sound of his voice, turning to see him leaning against the doorway behind you. “That’s easy for you to say. You didn’t always wear the robes.”

“No, but I find that the robes sometimes strip us of our individuality,” he replied, coming over to stand behind you. Gently he turned you back towards the mirror, resting a hand on your shoulders, “It downplays beauty and handsomeness in order to safeguard against pride. There is nothing wrong with the way you look.”

Meeting his eyes in the mirror, the moment felt charged. His hands on your bare shoulders were hot, making you wish for the layers of your robes to protect you from the intimacy of it all. “How long before we land?”

“We’ll be dropping out of hyperspace soon,” he replied, dropping his hands from your shoulders. “From there it’ll just be a short while until we touch down in the capital.”

You nodded, “Aren’t I lucky to have a husband who is such a good pilot.”

A playful smirk flitted across his face at your teasing. “Listen, angel, your husband is not just good. He’s the best.”

“A change of clothes for you could never hide your pride,” you shot back with a chuckle.

Anakin shrugged, the smile dropping from his face at your remark as he thought about how many times he’d been chastised by Obi-Wan for saying such things, “Many have tried.”

You watched as he walked out of the room, taking one last look at yourself in the mirror before joining him just as the ship dropped out of hyperspace.

The space in front of the planet was cluttered with ships.

“It’s almost as if they have a battle of their own,” you murmured as Anakin guided the craft through shipping lanes.

“It’s one of the busier ports in the galaxy. The fact that it’s also responsible for building a lot of ships probably doesn’t help the clutter,” he explained as he took the ship into the atmosphere.

You’d never been to Corellia before, and therefore didn’t know what to expect. It was as if there were a little bit of everywhere in the galaxy on one planet, visually. Having spent most of your time on Coruscant while you were growing up, it still felt odd to see cities that sprawled out instead of up.

As if it were almost second nature to him, Anakin gracefully landed the ship in a busy space port.

“Are you sure its safe to leave the ship here?” you asked as you glanced around at some seedy people eyeing up your ship.

“Well, unless you have a better idea,” he shot back as he got out of his chair.

A grimace settled on your face. “Just.... lock the ship up after we leave.”

Anakin rolled his eyes as the two of you left the ship and went towards town.

Your senses were overwhelmed when you stepped out onto the busy street. There were so many sights, smells, and sounds, not to mention people bustling and jostling you every which way. Anakin reached out to take your hand when the crowd started to separate the two of you.

“Stay close,” he said. “I don’t want to have to go looking for you.”

“R-right,” you stammered as you felt how warm and safe his hand felt around yours. “We should find lodgings.”

Anakin nodded and started to tug you down the street towards an inn. You were lucky enough that they had one room left. As you settled in for a meal, the two of you listened closely to the discussions around you.

“The group in the corner,” you murmured.

“What about them?” Anakin asked, tilting his eating utensil slightly to see the group in the silver.

“They’re pirates, talking about smuggling crafts. I heard them when I passed by earlier to use the refresher,” you murmured. “They also mentioned a race. It’s a front. The Hutt who sponsors the race takes possession of the winner. The fastest racer is then given a new ship and told to fly to a neighboring planet for a race that never happens. The pirates intercept the ship and sell it on the black market and the racers are never heard from again. The Hutt tells the people that they left Corellia to race in better places and were killed in a racing accident.”

Anakin’s eyes squinted as he studied them, “How often does this happen?”

“Once a year,” you replied, taking a sip of your soup. “If they did it any more often, they’d get suspicious.”

“And I’m assuming the ship the winner receives is whatever the latest model is from the shops,” Anakin murmured darkly.

“With the newest technology,” you replied. “Presumably it’s then sold to rival manufacturers who take the secrets and make their own versions. The Hutt is then sold the new ships at a cheaper price than what the Corellians would have charged, as well as given a bit of a bonus as a thank you for doing business.”

“Intellectual property theft isn’t exactly a crime we concern ourselves with,” he said thoughtfully.

“It is when the ships are currently being sold to the Separatists,” you shot back.

“When’s the race?” Anakin asked in amusement.

“Tomorrow,” you replied. “Why?”

“That should be enough time,” he said with a nod, getting up from the table.

“Enough time for what?” you asked incredulously.

He gave you a smile and a wink before leaving you alone at the table.

You sighed, “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”

After gulping down the rest of your soup, you rushed back to the room the two of you were sharing and gave your report to the council.

“Very good,” Mace said. “See if you can find out more information about this year’s model, that way we can hope to figure out what new advances the Separatists will have. Then come home.”

“Yes, Master,” you said, bowing as the call disconnected.

The early morning rays streamed in through the window. You’d missed your opportunity to sleep, and Anakin was still missing. You sat on the only bed in the room as you contemplated how you would go about finding that new information when Anakin returned.

“Why are you covered in grease?” you asked as he headed towards the refresher.

“I was working on a ship,” he shrugged.

“There’s nothing wrong with our ship,” you said, getting up to follow him.

“I said a ship, not our ship,” he replied as he started to strip in front of you.

You turned to the side to give him some privacy, your cheeks getting hot. “Anakin, what are you doing?”

“I can’t race without a ship,” he said as he stepped into the steamy column. “I can’t use ours in case it gets damaged.”

“You’re not racing, period,” you replied.

“I already paid the entrance fee,” he replied.

Your mouth fell open. “You can’t be serious.”

“I can win,” he shot back.

“That isn’t the point!” you replied with a groan before slamming the door shut and returning to your room.

Your feet were insistent as they paced back and forth along the room waiting for him to come back out. When he finally emerged, you were all roiled up.

“Anakin, you cannot race. I forbid it!” you said finally.

His eyes narrowed at you, “Oh, you forbid it? Well, then I guess I’ll just stay here!”

You scoffed. “It’s dangerous, not to mention it’s not part of the mission. You don’t have to do this.”

“It’s racing, of course I have to! I’ll be fine. I’m doing this,” he said, pointing at you, “and you... you’re not my actual spouse. You don’t get to decide this. ”

“Of course I’m not your actual spouse,” you shot back, “Like this farce of a relationship could actually work out in the real world. You’re too impulsive and you don’t think about any of the consequences of your actions. Or who you hurt.”

“I don’t care what you think,” Anakin looked as though you had stricken him. “The race is in an hour. I don’t expect you to come, and I don’t need you to,” he mumbled before walking past you and out the door.

As the door closed behind him, your knees gave out and you sat on the bed. That burst of outrage was so unlike you, and in truth, you weren’t actually angry. You were worried. You held your head in your hands, unsure why you were so worried. Anakin was a great pilot. He was more than capable of handling himself, and yet you didn’t want him to race. Was it because it went against your mission’s directive? Or was it out of concern for his safety? Or... perhaps... you wondered softly, if it was something much deeper.

What you did know was that you couldn’t just sit in this room and not know what was happening. With a sigh, you went to the races. At the very least, perhaps you’d find out more about this new ship while you were there.

The crowd was charged as they waited for the race to begin. You scanned the line of racers to find Anakin, eventually catching sight of him towards the middle of the pack. Taking a steadying breath, you let yourself fade into the background. You were just an innocent bystander. Nothing to see, but unbeknownst to all, listening to everything.

Anakin tightened his hands on the controls, feeling a bit of anger bubble in his chest. At the root of it all, though, was hurt. Hurt that the one person who’s opinion mattered the most didn’t support him, didn’t believe in him. He looked out towards the crowd, hopelessly looking for you. When he found you hidden between some Wookies, a smile came to his face.

They came, he thought. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he turned his attention back to the race. The track wasn’t large, at least, not by Tatooine’s standards, but it was still formidable. He flexed his fingers as he waited for the countdown, connecting with his machine like he used to with his pod racer. The lights flashed as engines revved before finally, it was showtime.

Now this is pod racing, he thought as he shot out from the starting line.

You heard the people around you talking about the new ships, having entrenched yourself in a group of shipbuilders if their uniforms were to be believed. Soon enough, you knew everything you needed for the council. Turning your attention back to the race, you saw Anakin weaving dangerously in and out of the crowd of racers.

It was as if your feet moved on their own accord, running towards the boundary until you pressed flush against it, your eyes tracking every movement he made. Your hands tightened on the rail in anticipation when one racer cut him off and sent him into a tail spin.

Anakin quickly recovered, muttering Huttese under his breath as he course-corrected. His eyes found you and saw your nervous face. He sighed, feeling guilty at how upset he made you. He wanted to be the hero, the winner, to prove he could do it. But... he also knew what was more important: you. He didn’t have to prove anything to these people about his flying skills. He had to prove to you that he didn’t mean what he said earlier. He did care what you thought. So, he did something that shocked you. He threw the race.

As he pulled into the finish line, you hopped the barricade and ran towards him. Your arms encircled him and held him close. He crushed you back.

“You’re an idiot!” you said as tears of relief stung your eyes.

Anakin let his shoulders relax as he held you close. “I’m sorry.”

“I got the information we need,” you sniffed. “Let’s just go back and get some rest. Neither of us got any sleep last night.”

He slowly released you and followed you back to the inn.

You kicked off your shoes next to your bag and disarmed yourself before getting into bed as he walked towards the bathroom to freshen up.

Slipping into the sheets, you buried yourself under the blankets hoping to find a false sense of security, or at least a rationalization for your feelings. When Anakin had almost gotten hurt earlier, it felt as though your heart had dropped into your stomach. You should unpack that, but you couldn’t. Not right now, at least. Instead, your mind drifted to all the late nights the two of you shared as younglings, talking about your hopes and dreams. You remembered talking about what kind of Jedi you wanted to be. With a wistful sigh, you realized it was nothing like the Jedi the two of you had actually become.

The bed shifted softly behind you as a warm body slipped into it.

“Credit for your thoughts?” he murmured.

“How’d you know I was still awake?” you asked.

“I could feel your uncertainty from across the room. Anyone feeling like that isn’t sleeping,” he replied, propping up on his elbow and turning towards you.

You turned back, pleasantly shocked to find yourself staring at his bare chest. “You’re not wearing a shirt.”

“I get hot when I sleep,” he shrugged.

You swallowed and nodded, trying to settle your gaze anywhere but on the set of abs in front of you. “Do you ever think about what we wanted to be when we were younger and how we turned out?”

Anakin’s brow furrowed, “I was a slave and I dreamed of seeing the galaxy. I got my wish.”

“Not that young,” you said with a slight smile, reaching outs to smooth his brow. “Remember when we were padawans and we talked about what we wanted to do?”

“I remember you talking about how badly you wanted to work in the library with Master Nu and me calling you boring for not wanting a life of adventure,” he teased.

“Well, I doubt I’ll ever cease having adventures at this point,” you sighed.

“War changes a person,” he said solemnly.

“I don’t know if I’d ever be content to hide in the library again,” you admitted, “Not when I know everything that’s out there. All the pain... cruelty... things we should be working towards getting rid of.”

“You can’t save the galaxy,” he said sadly. “Sometimes you can’t even save one person.”

“Never hurts to try,” you replied, laying back down on your back.

He looked at you then, dragged his eyes down your face. Gently, he reached over to caress your cheek. “Is that what was keeping you up?”

You leaned into his touch, shutting your eyes. “No.” Keeping them closed, you murmured, “You’ve turned out to be remarkable.”

“I’ll try not to let it go to my head,” he teased.

Your eyes opened, “I’m serious. I always admired you when we were younger. You were, are-” you corrected- “fearless. You were never afraid of doing what you wanted. I wish I had that same instinct.”

Anakin swallowed, looking down at the space between the two of you. “If you could do what you wanted, what would you do?”

Your eyes trailed his naked chest before making their way up to his face. You took in the slight stubble from the long day he had had. Then, your fingers reached up to touch. He looked up at you through his lashes, blue eyes like the endless sky that made you feel like you were soaring within them, falling up into the heavens. Gently, you traced your forefinger down the pink flesh of a scar long healed. He sucked in a breath as you let the hand trail down his face. Your thumb settled in the divot of his chin as the rest of your fingers reached up to settle on his cheek. Feeling bold, you let your thumb slide up to run across his bottom lip as your eyes settled on them.

“If I were fearless,” you said, softly, barely above a whisper, “I would kiss you.”

Hesitantly, you brought your eyes up to meet his to find his searing gaze holding you in place. There was a torment behind his eyes as you dangled a forbidden possibility in front of him. Your heart clenched at having done this to him, having burdened him with the knowledge of your affections. It wasn’t your fault that you felt this way, and it certainly wasn’t his.

“Good night, Ani,” you murmured before letting your hand fall from his face and turning away from him.

“No,” he said shakily, sliding his arm around you to turn you back towards him.

“N-no?” you stammered in confusion.

“You don’t get to just say that and then turn away as if nothing has happened,” he said, feeling impassioned. “You can’t tell me how you feel, touch me as tenderly as you have, and then give me a cold shoulder to calm your own conscience. Not...”he trailed off, licking his lips, “not without giving me the chance to respond.”

You felt frozen in place, fearful of the rejection you were sure would be coming. The chosen one, Anakin Skywalker, surely could never want someone like you, could he? His victories inspired hope. He was the face of the Republic while Master Kenobi was the face of the Order. You were a nobody in comparison.

“I used to always be so tired when we were younger,” he explained, “but, I was also homesick, too homesick to sleep. I always felt so far behind all the other padawans because I hadn’t grown up in the Order, going so far as to train every night. Yet, everyone always treated me like I was above them, like I was untouchable because of what I was, not who I was. Everyone except you. Do you remember when we first met?”

“You were going through the basic lightsaber forms and I told you that your footwork was wrong,” you replied.

“And then you taught me the actual way to do things,” he replied. “You trained with me when no one else would approach me. You were one of my first friends.”

Friends. Your heart sank into a sadness of knowing that this was how it should be, and that you were foolish to get your hopes up.

“And then we drifted and I realized how much I missed you,” he added. “More than I’ve ever missed a friend. I’d see you across the Temple when were both there and I couldn’t meet your eyes because I knew I’d lose myself in them. You always think you can just slip into the background and hide from even yourself, but you don’t with me. You are all I can think about when life gets dark. You’re my light. When I think a battle is hopeless, I remember that I’d rather have you read about my victory instead of reading my name on the list of those who have fallen.”

You swallowed, turning your head away to hide the emotion in your eyes.

He reached out with the metal hand he so despised and tenderly turned you back to him. “Thoughts of you consume.”

In that moment, you came to the realization that the star that was Anakin Skywalker not only burned ever so brightly as to illuminate the entire galaxy, but that he burned for you.

Your mouth went dry.

“I’m not a hero without fear,” he admitted, “I have so many fears, but my biggest fear is losing you.”

Your eyes softened as you reached up to cup his cheek, “You’ll never lose me, Ani.”

He leaned into your touch, slowly closing his eyes to savor the moment, “But... I’m not afraid to do this,” he said before pulling you close. His lips pressed firmly to yours and you felt like your bodies were in tune with each other. You molded yourself into him, feeling the force flow freely between the two of you. All were connected through the force, but this rivaled anything you’d ever felt before. Electricity danced over your skin as his touch sent sparks down your spine. Your hands explored the flat planes of his chest, as his hands slipped up your arms, just as warm as earlier. His heat enveloped you as you lost yourself in him until you didn’t know where Anakin ended and you began. In the back of your mind, you knew that this wasn’t something you should be doing. This wasn’t the type of Jedi you should be, but it was the type of Jedi you had become.

War changes people.

The thought echoed in your head.

War reminds us what’s really important. War shows us what we are afraid to lose. War shows us how far from our ideals we’re willing to fall in order to win.

War shows us where love can be found, because the opposite of war is not peace.

The opposite of war is creation.

The opposite of war is love.

The trip back to the Temple was easy. Living with the knowledge of what had transpired on Corellia was not.

As you walked down the ramp, his hand brushed yours, barely holding it. The Council would be waiting for you in the tower spire looming above you. You’d debrief and then you’d be sent on your separate ways.

A small smile settled on your face as Anakin beamed like a god of the sun. His warmth radiated through you and you knew.

Physical difference wouldn’t alter the emotional closeness you’d found on Corellia. You would always be with each other.

#Anakin Skywalker #Anakin Skywalker x Reader #anakin skywalker x gender neutral reader #Anakin Skywalker x you #star wars #anakin imagine

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randomficsandshit · 4 years

Text

Bellarke Fic Rec

*NONE OF THESE FICS ARE MINE*

Please do not forget. I have not written any of these. I’m simply recommending favorites of mine over the years. If you love something, send the author your love, not me :) and if any links don’t work, send me a message and I’ll see what i can do, this is a pretty old list

There's A Nap For That

Word Count: 6k+

AU. Based on that post: "If you both agree to take a nap instead of going out, it’s a date." Or: The one where Bellamy and Clarke keep taking naps together. You know, platonically. See also: Let Them Rest.

If You Wear A Dress and Have an Animal Sidekick, You Are a Princess

Word Count: 3k+

AU. Bellamy can't not take care of every animal he sees, and Clarke can't not find it endearing.

*Mouth Like Heaven, Kisses Like Stars

Word Count: 4k+

His eyebrows are knitted together in a slight frown, the kind he usually gets when he’s trying to work out a difficult problem. Finally, he meets her eyes again and says, almost hesitantly underneath his mask of bravado, “Well, I’m always here to lend a helping hand if you need it, princess.” Clarke actually chokes this time, and it feels like all the breath has been knocked out of her. -or, the time when everything goes downhill and bellamy just goes down.

Wingwoman

Word Count: 1k+

AU. Clarke didn't think she'd need a wingwoman at the park playground when she's babysitting her one-year-old niece, but then Bellamy Blake strolls up, and Amelia rises to the occasion, luckily for her.

When Love Hits (Better Make It Worth The Fall)

Word Count: 4k+

AU. (She's All That) Four times Clarke gets hit on the head (+1 time she doesn't) during her last semester of high school, and every single time, Bellamy Blake is somehow involved.

All This Time

Word Count: 5k+

AU. Four times Bellamy innocently kisses Clarke, + one time he doesn't.

Take This Heart

Word Count: ~

clarke moves into bellamy's room. this is both soft and full of disdain for clarke's terrible... everything in season 3

You're Cool On The Internet, At Least

Word Count: 9k+

AU. Look, Clarke will not dwell on this. She will not get flustered just because a possibly cute guy on Facebook apparently shares her views on what constitutes a terrible person.

(Or: Clarke meets Bellamy on Facebook. They hit it off.)

(One of my personal favs)

We Came Out On Top

Word Count: 11k+

AU. “How can you guys be all like this and then be at each other’s throats during trivia night?” “Because it’s trivia night,” both Bellamy and Clarke said at the same time, sharing the same why don’t you get it tone. Bellamy, Clarke, and the trivia night rivalries only they care about.

She Does What The Night Does To The Day

Word Count: 5k+

AU. He assumes she would just giggle and continue petting him while saying how pretty he is, but instead, she pulls back with what might have been a leer had she not been three sheets to the wind, and says, “Your body is 65% water and I’m thirsty.” And then if that wasn’t bad enough, she stumbles out of his arms and fucking winks at him. Or at least he thinks it’s a wink. She used both eyes instead of one. or, the one where Bellamy is woefully and terribly oblivious.

The Giant Squid's Got Nothing On You

Word Count: 6k+

AU. Objectively, Clarke knows she’s probably right, but she still can’t help but lift her chin determinedly and say, “He is not going to find it.” She can barely hear her scoff in reply over the din of the cafe. “Yeah right,” says Raven, “The internet is forever, Clarke Griffin. He will find it eventually.” or, Clarke finds her new muse at the local cafe

Alone Together

Word Count: 11k+

AU. Clarke shows up at Bellamy’s apartment at exactly two minutes to midnight on a Thursday. He's not sure how she ends up staying the night — or why he doesn't turn her away, when it happens again. And again.

Cold As The Wind Blows (so hold me in your arms)

Word Count: 3k+

AU. Clarke gets trapped in the storage room overnight, but at least she's not by herself.

Tequila Regrets

Word Count: 6k+

AU. Clarke and Bellamy have been roommates for a while, and Clarke has been in love with him for almost as long, but when she finds out that his terror of a boss has marked him as her next conquest, Clarke offers to pose as his fake girlfriend for the staff Christmas party to scare her off. She did not think this all the way through.

Mutual

Word Count: 6k+

AU. As acts of rebellion go, Clarke knows that getting a tumblr is both minor and pathetic. But it's her secret, her own tiny, online space where no one knows she's Clarke Griffin, Hollywood A-lister. She's just some nobody with like five followers and opinions no one cares about. And then she makes a friend.

Wish On Everything

Word Count: 11k+

AU. It's not as if Bellamy wanted anything bad to happen to his mother. All he wanted was to get custody of his little sister, so he'd know she was taken care of. And after eight years, he's basically given up all hope of that. Then his mother does die, and social services tells him he gets Octavia.

Legs Crossed Towards Each Other

Word Count: 7k+

It starts with Raven wanting to set up Mr. Sinclair, out of what are probably genuinely good intentions. It's everyone else who turns it into a massive headache for Bellamy.

What The Hell Is The Catch?

Word Count: 6k+

Bellamy gets tickets to take his AP US History kids to Hamilton, and Clarke figures he's going to need a chaperone. She's happy to help out. And if he says she owes him for it? Totally worth it.

If You Wanna Reach Me

Word Count: 5k+

AU. Clarke: So yeah, in the dream it's like We're in New York, I think. I'm not really sure, but you know how it is when it's a dream and you just know something. So we're in New York.

Jasper: whos we??????

Clarke: Most of us, I think? It's always kind of hard to remember when it's a dream. Like I just thought "everyone's here!" but I mostly interacted with Bellamy.

Raven: did u mean: real life

Time Enough For Rocking When We're Old

Word Count: 14k+

boston > boston/camb/brook > housing > apts by owner $2-300 Roxbury small room in 3-br 1-bath house, spouse preferred (Roxbury) Pair of siblings looking for housemate. Due to extenuating circumstances I will share with interested parties, I would prefer a roommate who is willing to get married for legitimate personal reasons that do not include sex or anything sketchy. If not interested in marriage, room still available for $300/month plus utilities. Pets okay, no smokers, NO DRUG USE. Please don't just email me to tell me this is fucked up, I know it is, you really don't have to tell me. If you are interested in the marriage part, a female spouse is preferred, but male would be okay too. I promise I will explain this if you really want details, but I'm not putting it online. Serious inquiries only.

Must Love Intersectionality

Word Count: 2k+

AU. Bellamy hates his stupid history of colonialism class, until he makes a friend. Weirdly, the friend isn't actually in his class, they just share the same desk and like to write angry notes about the patriarchy. Bellamy's a fan.

Regardless Of Warnings, The Future Doesn't Scare Me At All

Word Count: 20k+

AU. 2 Chapters. After an argument with her mother about her unplanned pregnancy, Clarke Griffin ends up back in the small town where her father used to live, spilling her sob story to a sympathetic bartender. And then, somehow, she ends up moving in with the bartender and her brother.

(You Might Find) You Get What You Need

Word Count: 20k+

AU. Clarke needs a date to her ex's sister's wedding, and she's at the point of hiring someone off the internet when Octavia points out that her brother is always looking for money. So Clarke takes him instead.

Just As You Are

Word Count: 10k+

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single Clarke Griffin in need of a Latin tutorial partner will always end up paired with Bellamy Blake.

I've Been Dreaming Of You From The Other Side (I Know You So Well)

Word Count: 17k+

AU. Ten years ago, Clarke found out she had superpowers. Now she's all ready to start a new life: English teacher by day, vigilante by night. All she has to do is figure out how to be a superhero, avoid getting caught and shipped off by mandatory metahuman registration, and not strangle the stupid history teacher down the hall. It'll be fun.

She's Touching His Chest Now, He Takes Off Her Dress Now

Word Count: 26k+

If Clarke had thought arguments could actually lead to switching bodies with someone, she wouldn't have been surprised this one really did. But since that's actually impossible, waking up as Bellamy Blake is still a shock.

I Know That Fortune Is Waiting To Be Kind

Word Count: 20k+

When Bellamy is eleven, his mother dies, and he finds out his father was a prince, which makes him a prince too, albeit a bastard prince. And when he's twelve, his family decides he would be a good candidate for marriage to Princess Clarke of Arcadia. Princess Clarke thinks so too, but only because he agrees to come back in ten years and help her make sure the wedding never takes place. It seems like a really good deal, when he's twelve.

And Dream How Wonderful Your Life Will Be

Word Count: 19k+

Clarke has known Bellamy Blake for two months when she finds out two completely unexpected things about him: he's married, and he has an eight-year-old son. He's also getting a divorce and he needs a roommate, and she's got a spot. It's complicated.

One Deep Breath and One Big Step

Word Count: 17k+

Clarke Griffin has been groomed for Ark University and Sigma Kappa Upsilon sorority since she was a kid, and she's a little annoyed to discover, upon getting to college, that she really does like Sig-Kap. That she wants to pledge. There's just this weird thing where they don't seem to like her new friend Bellamy.

Write What You Know

Word Count: 13k+

Bellamy understands every individual choice that got him to this point. He started writing erotica to make some extra money, he didn't correct the assumption that he was a woman, made up some facts about his new persona, and now his publisher wants him to start making public appearances, so he needs someone to be that persona. And Clarke really is the logical choice. It all makes sense to him, when he thinks about it, but he will admit it is incredibly weird. Luckily, Clarke's still got his back.

When Can I See You Again?

Word Count: 13k+

Bellamy doesn't recognize a lot of people he meets at conventions, even if he's met them a lot. It's just hard to keep track. But the girl who comes once or twice a year is pretty easy to remember. And that's before her foster mom shows up in a panic because she took a bus to Vegas alone. After that happens, it's basically all over.

But They Ain't Doing It Right

Word Count: 14k+

“So,” he begins, running a hand through his hair. It’s a lost cause trying to work it back into some semblance of order. “What is this?” “What do you mean?” He doesn’t meet her eye when he says, “Once is a mistake, twice is a pattern,” too busy picking at a loose thread in his hem. “Wanna go three times and just make it a habit?” she jokes weakly, and his head snaps back up, eyes boring into hers. She flushes under the intensity of his gaze. “Actually,” he begins slowly, “That doesn’t sound that bad.” or, the friends with benefits au that got away from me

Phone A Friend

Word Count: 7k+

Clarke does not ask Bellamy for tips on having a threesome because she's hoping to have a threesome with him. He's just the only person she knows personally who has actually had a threesome, so he seems like her best resource. And when the opportunity to have a threesome with him presents itself, it's not like she's going to just say no.

I'm Swept Away and My Heart Ensnared

Word Count: 15k+

Raven hums low in her throat. “Well, at least Bellamy can make it up in time. So you won’t get too axe murdered.” Clarke wrinkles her nose, leaning on the banister of the upstairs porch. From here she can see the ocean, just a five minute walk away, and she breathes in brine soaked air. “He’s still coming?” “What do you mean if he’s still coming? He didn’t say anything otherwise.” She shifts from foot to foot, feeling herself colour slightly even though there’s no one there to see her. “I just assumed that because you and Miller couldn’t make it up anymore he wouldn’t come today.” “Why the hell did you think that?” “Because Bellamy and I aren’t exactly friends, Raven." or, Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin don't really like each other. Or at least that's what they tell themselves.

Afraid To Call This Place Our Own

Word Count: 22k+

(Single mom!Clarke and Teacher!Bellamy, with the usual angsty shenanigans.)

And Are We There Yet (Home)

Word Count: 2k+

A Bellamy POV and mini sequel to afraid to call this place our own. (this shit made me cry)

Bloodstains and Innocence: A Clarke Griffin Mystery

Word Count: 27k+

Police Chief Clarke Griffin knows three things: 1) Charles Pike is dead. 2) Octavia Blake is the prime suspect. 3) Bellamy Blake a giant pain in the ass with no business being involved in a murder investigation, and yet here he is, working the case alongside her. A hurricane is approaching the sleepy little island of Arkadia, NC as evidence begins to mount against Octavia and Clarke wrestles with her increasingly complicated relationship with Bellamy, all while trying to answer one simple question: Who killed Charles Pike?

Is There An IUD That Can Stop The Image of You and Me?

Word Count: 8k+

It's probably impossible to be friends with benefits with someone who might not even count as a friend, but "lab partners with benefits" isn't a thing yet. So that's probably the right term. Whatever it is, Clarke's enjoying it. As long as she ignores the whole feelings thing.

I’m Gonna Leave You Anyway

Word Count: 65k+

Modern AU inspired by the show You're the Worst, where Bellamy and Clarke hook up after a wedding.

And You Can Have This Heart To Break

Word Count: 37k+

Clarke knows she's being a little over-dramatic in her complaining about having to move to Maine, but it does seem pretty unreasonable of her mother to drag her to a small town in the middle of nowhere for the three months between high-school graduation and her starting college. As it turns out, the summer is great. It's just the summer ending that's the problem.

Museums and Mistletoe

Word Count: 1k+

Clarke buys Bellamy a museum ticket for Christmas and he acts like it’s the best gift he’s ever received. She buys one for herself too, because she knows none of their other friends have the time to go—finding a day they can all get together to exchange gifts is hard enough—and if it gets her an uninterrupted afternoon with her best friend and all around favorite asshole, she’s definitely not complaining.

When In Brome

Word Count: 57k+

Octavia is the one who tells Clarke about "Untitled Gladiator Project," because she thinks Bellamy wants to be on it, and also thinks Clarke is the one who will be able to convince him to do it. Plus, it turns out Clarke actually needs to be involved, because all of the gladiators are required to have girlfriends with them, and, honestly, the more she hears about it, the more of a mess it seems like. On the other hand, it sounds kind of hilarious, and definitely right up Bellamy's alley, so there's probably no harm in trying out. It might be fun.

It’s All Internet Interaction

Word Count: 11k+

Bellamy is less than pleased when soap opera star Clarke Griffin lands the lead role in the Callister reboot. So, naturally, he writes about it. It’s not supposed to blow up. She’s not supposed to respond to it either, but here they are.

Just Dive Right In (And Follow My Lead)

Word Count: 24k+

Clarke Griffin needs a partner. Bellamy Blake just happens to walk into her rink. (Or: Bellamy and Clarke as ice dancing partners, training together through the years to the Olympics.)

Sleight Of Hand

Word Count: 56k+

Notorious criminal prodigy Bellamy Blake has been tasked with a seemingly impossible heist. Luckily enough, he just might have the right crew for it. *Personal Favorite*

And Then We Were Chasing Comets

Word Count: 21k+

If you told Clarke Griffin that she would become best friends with the resident black sheep of Arkadia, she would have difficulty believing it, let alone the fact that he apparently wrote an entire book about her. (Or: Clarke and Bellamy through the years, as childhood best friends.)

See Me In Hindsight

Word Count: 16k+

“You’re kind of a mess,” He says mildly. “Thanks captain obvious.” The corners of his mouth twitch a little, like he’s holding back a smile. She is not remotely pleased by that. Not at all. Or, the one where they're project partners and maybe, perhaps, friends. (And maybe, perhaps, more.)

Challenge Accepted

Word Count: 30k+

He doesn't even like Clarke Griffin, he's pretty sure he hates how easy everything has come to her. So imagine his surprise when he finds himself at their office party looking through dick pics on her phone. “You can do better, Princess. In fact, I can do better.” As soon as she turns to him with raised eyebrows and an open mouthed grin he knows he’s said too much but she’s not going to let it drop. “Oh really, you think you can do better, Blake?” And he's never backed down from a challenge in his life.

Found Myself In A Second

Word Count: 5k+

The one where Clarke finds a lost wallet belonging to one Bellamy Blake.

Every Rose Can Sting You

Word Count: 15k+

Clarke expected to encounter annoying guys when she got forced into becoming the Bachelorette, but she didn't realise that the most annoying of them all would be the head cameraman. Because seriously, Bellamy Blake is a total prick. It's a good thing there's absolutely no chance of her ever actually liking him, because boy, would that be inconvenient…

Choking On Your Alibis

Word Count: 7k+

Bellamy gets a girlfriend and Clarke handles it spectacularly well

#bellarke #the 100 #fic rec #fic rec masterlist #bellarke masterlist #bellamy x clarke #beliza #the 100 fic #multi chap fic #one shot #clarke griffin #bellamy blake #raven reyes #octavia blake #eliza taylor #bob morley #the cw #fanfiction #bellarke fanfiction

199 notes · View notes

gravelyhumerus · 4 years

Text

Criminal Minds College AU

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Summary:

Emily Prentiss, college sophomore, absolutely does not have a crush on the girl across the hall.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

“Come in, it’s open!” Emily Prentiss yelled out over her music blasting out of the laptop on her desk. She was listening to her pregame playlist, which was chock full of throwbacks, middle-school jams and of course, The Killers to keep things interesting.

Derek Morgan pushed open her dorm room door and waltzed in. He had a pair of light blue jeans on, held up by a brown belt, with a white t-shirt on top. He jumped on top of Emily’s slightly-too-high bed, and bounced as he grinned at her. Derek was many things, shy was definitely not one of them.

“You look hot,” Emily said, with as much sarcasm as she could manage, looking him up and down. She could tell he dressed up.

“You know it, princess.”

Rifling through his backpack, he grinned as he pulled out two blue college-branded metal water bottles, filled with what was probably not water at all.

“I made us sangria!”

Emily laughed, then spun back around in her desk chair. She still needed to finish her makeup. She had her foundation and eyebrows done, but she needed to focus as she applied her eyeliner.

“Did you just mix some juice into the wine?” She asked, taking the bottle from him, having a sip of the fruity liquid.

“Yup! There’s going to be a keg there, but I wanted to give us options.”

Emily laughed before focusing on her mascara wand gliding across her lower eyelashes, trying to finish up so they could start preing for the party. She wasn’t quite dressed yet either, still wearing her class jeans and not her going out jeans (there was an important distinction between these that mostly involved whether or not she could wear them with a belt.) Morgan was about five minutes earlier than she expected. Moreover, the boy had only sprung the invitation to the party during their lab that afternoon.

As much as she hated to admit it, Derek was basically 90% of Emily’s non-academic social life, the second year boy already very well connected due to his football scholarship, letting him in on all of the good parties. Unfortunately that also meant for Emily that he would spring themed parties like anything but clothes, or no cups allowed on her with absolutely no heads up most weekends.

Emily will not wear a tote bag as a skirt again if she can help it.

Despite the excessive drinking and mixed bag of party attendees, Emily genuinely enjoyed the boy’s company. Anyways, he was the best beer-pong partner that she’s ever had.

“Can I hop on aux?” He asked, leaning over her computer before she could even protest.

“Sure,” she replied, knowing he was already on his own Spotify account and putting on his playlist titled ‘FOR THE BOYS and emily’ that he found hilarious. She knew she could get him to sing along to the Mamma Mia! (2008) soundtrack once he was a few shots in, but for now she resigned herself to wordless EDM.

He sat on her desk, bobbing his head along to the beat.

Emily reached into the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out a smallish bottle of vodka and two shot glasses, with their college’s crest etched into the glass. For a school that denounced drinking-culture, they had a shocking amount of merch for sale that encouraged it.

She filled each to the line, and slid one towards her friend.

“Bottoms up,” she said, as they cheersed the foul tasting liquid. Morgan grinned and winked at her before shooting it back with the confidence that only a nineteen year old could have.

Vodka still made her queasy, but being underage meant that the college students would take what they could get. Morgan’s senior friends would boot alcohol for them for an extra five bucks, but only every few weeks.

The one thing about the states that Emily still couldn’t wrap her head around was the backwards alcohol policy. Almost everywhere else on earth she would already be legally drinking. Hell, when she was 16 she was passed out in a ditch in rural England, drunk off her ass on legally acquired beer. Even now, if they drove north of the border, Emily could be off to the bars, no questions asked. America was absurd.

“How was the rest of your day?” Emily asked him as she stood up, digging through her dirty laundry to find her other pair of jeans. She tossed aside her fuzzy pjs, a bra and an assortment of band tees but her jeans must’ve been at the bottom. She needed to do laundry but was ripe out of quarters.

“Eh,” he made a face, “I had to finish up that quiz for psych, but honestly I just needed to catch up on some readings. I had like fifty pages of a badly scanned book from like a hundred years ago to annotate.”

“Reading? In this economy?” Emily snarked at him, still rooting through the bin. She knew her blue jeans were here somewhere.

“Well I know you can’t read,” he replied in a haughty tone, “doesn’t mean the rest of us have to remain unenlightened!”

“Ha-ha.”

There they were, right at the bottom of the bin. She changed right then, with Morgan politely averting his eyes, despite the fact that both have seen just about everything in the year or so that they’ve been acquainted.

No, they didn’t hook up or anything, it wasn’t like that.

It was the strange phenomenon that only could happen in college where you get really close really fast. Emily’s RA had explained it to their first-year floor, likening it to soldiers in the war (Emily wasn’t sure if the metaphor was kosher, but it was apt.). Young adults first starting out in the world, free from their family supervision and previous lives, cling on to those around them for stability. The RA explained this as in a cautionary tale, explaining that this can lead to high emotions, to fights, and… a bit more.

This talk led into their floor-cest talk, which was apparently required in every co-ed dorm at their school. Emily was the first to point out the heteronormativity in that policy. Floor-cest, for the uninitiated, was the concept of hooking up with someone on your floor in the dorm. It was formally discouraged by residence life staff. It was easy to have meaningless sex, harder when you have sex with someone you live down the hall from. Things could get messy.

Emily and Derek got this talk on move in day, both sitting cross-legged on the floor of their common room as their RA, a bubbly girl named Carol, explained the fundamentals of dorm life. Emily has been dropped off by her mother’s driver, who helped her unload her things.

Emily was still reeling from being surrounded by happy families, of crying parents and bitter that her mother was too busy to even send her own daughter off to school. Not that Emily wanted her there or anything, but the gesture would have been nice.

She remembered the startling moment when Derek walked straight into her room and offered his hand, introducing himself to his new neighbour.

They shared a wall, the co-ed bathroom down the hall, and most of their free time for their first year at college.

He had assumed that the driver, Paul who was one of Emily’s favourites out of her mother’s staff, was Emily’s father, which started things off on an awkward note. Soon she was swept up in a whirlwind of his family: his mom and sisters who insisted that Emily pose for photos of Derek and ‘his new dorm friend.’

A year later, Emily and Morgan were basically siblings. Emily didn’t actually have any siblings, but after going to Chicago for thanksgiving with the Morgan family, she was pretty sure she had officially been adopted.

Last year, they had a much nicer dorm, one of the newer ones with big windows and nice common spaces. This year they were both living in the oldest residence, a beautiful red brick building, covered with ivy, but the inside was all painted this gross beige, and the paint would chip off whenever Emily tried to hang her posters. There was also no air conditioning, the showers didn’t get too hot and the kitchen smelt like eggs. It was definitely a downgrade, but at least Morgan was on the same floor as her again.

Morgan had lucked out and gotten a corner room with tons of windows, and Emily was right next to the bathroom and could hear when anyone flushed.

After donning the jeans and a black tank top, Emily grabbed her leather jacket and they were ready to go.

“Another shot?” Derek asked, grinning at her mischievously.

“Of course,” Emily said. “Where are we even going anyways?”

“Well, you remember David, the TA from our psych lab? His housemates are throwing a party in their backyard. I heard there was going to be a DJ!”

“David Rossi?” Emily said incredulously, “How did you swing an invite to that?”

“I can’t reveal all of my secrets, you know that pretty lady.”

Emily scoffed. It was probably through their mutual friend Aaron Hotchner, who despite not being much of a partier, was very in the loop about the happenings on campus.

“Did you invite you know who?” Derek asked, a bit too casually as Emily locked her door.

Emily refused to bite.

“She definitely has better things to do than hang out with the likes of us.”

---

“I’m a criminology major,” Emily repeated, the exasperation in her voice palatable.

The boy, who was on the rugby team as she already learned, had asked her what her major was. He misheard her and began asking her how she likes studying biology.

The music was loud and the boy was clearly wasted off his ass. She was pretty sure she saw him do a keg stand in the kitchen earlier.

Emily took another sip of her drink, keeping it close to her chest. She looked around. They were only five minutes off campus at a decent-sized student house. The room was close to being at capacity, the old home creaking under the weight of dozens of students crammed into the living room. Music blared on a strangely impressive speaker system. The party was at its peak in the backyard, and was probably only an hour from being shut down by the cops if it got much louder.

Emily had carefully positioned herself next to the open window, enjoying the slight breeze as the body heat was making the old house steamy with humidity. This also happened to be the location of the bong, but she accepted the trade-off.

Derek was currently playing king’s cup, a game Emily refuses to play, since last time she got roped into it she lost miserably. She was forced to drink the king’s cup: a mixture of shitty beer, whiskey, cider wine and whole cream from the fridge, as she had been a bit too slow with bouncing the ball into the red solo cup. Derek held her hair back as she puked off the porch that night.

Never again.

Emily squinted as a few people she recognized walked into the room. It was only a month into classes, so she really hadn’t had the opportunity to get to know the new random assortment of people in her building, lectures and in her general orbit but she was pretty sure she was starting to recognize some faces.

Entering the party was the blonde from the end of the hallway who always complimented Emily on her outfits when she passed and had the most colourfully decorated dorm in the entire building. ‘Penelope G.’ read her name tag pinned to her door in their RA’s loopy handwriting.

Next to her was a younger boy that she had seen in the cafeteria with Penelope before, and while Emily wasn’t that good at identifying ages, he definitely looked a bit too young to be at college. He was tall, skinny and had a mop of unruly brown hair. He was also wearing a sweater to a house party, which was a major beginners mistake. He looked around nervously.

A few seconds later, the door closed, only dumping an assortment of other boys into the already packed house.

Emily let out a breath she didn’t know she held, as she found herself hoping that Garcia’s other friend might have been joining her that night.

Derek had teased her already about the girl across the hall. Jennifer Jareau. “My friends call me JJ,” she had said. Second year varsity soccer player and communications major. The girl Derek was convinced that Emily had a crush on.

JJ was the kind of girl who propped her door open during orientation week and always waved at Emily when she walked down the hall.

She did not have a crush. She barely knew anything about her besides that she was blonde, athletic and was always smiling. Both had been so busy since school had started, and seemed to have completely opposite schedules that they hadn’t really gotten to really connect.

Whenever Emily was coming back to their floor, JJ always seemed to be leaving. And vice versa. Somehow they were on exact opposite schedules. Probably since JJ was a varsity soccer player with early morning practise, and Emily was a bit of a night owl (that was a polite way of saying insomniac procrastinator perfectionist.)

She seemed to hang out with Garcia around residence, Emily having spotted the two getting coffee or studying in the library together occasionally, hence Emily’s hopes that Garcia may have JJ in tow that evening.

JJ was also definitely, one hundred percent, completely straight. Fairy lights and Polaroid pictures on her walls straight. She even had a high school sweetheart that might survive the turkey dumping season. Emily didn’t know his name but JJ said the key word early on in the year: boyfriend.

Emily turned back to the boy in front of her, who was describing, in detail, how the stock market worked, without realizing that Emily was not paying attention at all.

He was quite conventionally attractive, with mussed curly hair and broad shoulders. He obviously was interested in her—or rather interested in talking at her and potentially sleeping with her—that despite herself, Emily decided to slot him into her roster for that evening.

Emily considered herself a reluctant bisexual. Women could make her heart skip a beat just by looking in her direction, and men could get it when the situation was right and she didn’t have any other options. The second half of this pleased her mother to no end, as when young fourteen year old Emily Prentiss had decided to come out to her mother—at one of their rare dinners together—she watched her mother grit her teeth and tell her to keep that to herself. Her mother had eventually accepted this part of her daughter’s life, but only under the assumption that Emily would eventually end up with a man, and keep the rest to herself.

Emily looked around the room and wondered if she was going to have any other options that evening besides the very talkative boy.

Excusing herself from the company of…Matthew, she thinks was his name, she tries to find Derek, who had disappeared into the kitchen. Emily weaved through the crowd, steering past a couple making out in the corner.

She turned the corner and found Derek filling his cup with more beer from the keg. He grinned up at her and did the same for her.

“I hate beer,” Emily said to him, grimacing at the scratchy taste of the fermented barley in her red solo cup.

“Suck it up buttercup, you’re in college. You also complained about the juice from earlier.”

“Yeah well, watering down eleven percent wine is as bad as this five percent crap.”

“It did taste a lot better,” he agreed. “Who was that guy?”

Emily rolled her eyes.

“Matthew attempted to explain macroeconomics to me.”

“Oh god, is that what men are like out there?” He asked. “Guess you’re stuck with me tonight.”

“Lucky me.”

“Pong?” He asked, gesturing towards the row of tables set up in the backyard, through the open door and passed the crowd milling about near the speakers. The game seemed to be wrapping up, as the two teams shook hands and reset the cups to their original positions.

“Always.”

They found their spot at one of the tables across from their new opponents: Penelope and her very young looking friend.

“Penelope Garcia?” Derek grinned, recognizing the girl from their floor and walking up to her for a hug. Their rooms were facing each other, and they had apparently gotten the chance to get to know each other.

She grinned and hugged him, clearly a lot more sober than him having only arrived minutes earlier. There seemed to be a lot of hugging at house parties, Emily discovered when she moved to America, acquaintances became close friends once alcohol was involved.

She had bright pink glasses and a matching dress, with bright artfully done make-up highlighting her large smile. Emily knew that she was a CompSci major and had loaded her dorm room desk with monitors and the largest computer set-up that Emily had seen in her life.

“Derek, my love,” Penelope replied, gushing over Emily’s friend in an unexpected, but not unsurprising way. “Fancy meeting you here! And Emily! Have you two met my fine young friend here, Spencer?”

She gestured to the boy, who waved awkwardly.

“Hi, I’m Spencer Reid,” he said.

“He’s like a boy-genius or something. He already has a degree in mathematics and he’s currently working on his second degree in engineering. Isn’t that très cool? We met at the club fair last week.”

“I’m double majoring in philosophy,” he added.

“How old are you kid?” Morgan asked him, quick to the punch.

“Uh- sixteen?” Spencer seemed to ask, shrinking into himself a bit. “I skipped a couple of grades.”

He had a pair of glasses perched on his nose, a brown sweater with a white shirt collar poking through and had tucked his brown hair behind his ears. He was still taller than Penelope, but the smattering of acne and wide eyes made it clear that he was very much a kid.

“More than a couple!” Morgan exclaimed.

He shrugged.

“Are you in intro to logic with Williams?” Emily asked, realizing that she had recognized him from somewhere.

“Yes, I am. Though I find his repeated chess metaphors a touch reductive.”

“You’re right about that. Like, we get it Willy, you play chess. Big whoop,” Emily said, then introduced herself.

He smiled at her, slightly less awkwardly this time but with a touch more confusion.

“And this is Derek Morgan,” Penelope piped in, “the most gorgeous football player I know.”

“Do you know any other football players?” Spencer asked.

“Now you hush!” She admonished him. “We have a game to play.”

“Do you two have something to drink?” Derek asked them, moving back towards their side of the long fold-up table, which was crudely painted in their schools colours.

Emily took a sip of her beer, wondering if the boy should be drinking.

Penelope babbled about how it was Spencer’s first college party, and how she was so excited that it was this one because look at the pretty string lights decorating the backyard and the fact that there was a keg, like in the movies.

Smiling at her new neighbour, Emily thought that this might also be Penelope's first college party.

Derek returned with a cup of water for Spencer, and some beer for Penelope. Spencer seemed relieved at the gesture, smiling as he took a sip. Emily marvelled at her friend's kindness, despite what anyone said about drinking culture on campuses either way, it was tough to attend a party and not drink, putting his drink in a matching red cup gave him the appearance of participation.

“Do we all know the rules?” Derek asked.

“The question you should ask,” Emily said, “Is if they’re willing to play by your rules.”

Emily had discovered that this game, depending on the people you were playing with, had radically different rules. While the premise of the game remained the same: there were six cups on each side of the table, into which you threw ping pong balls and whenever you got a ball in a cup, that cup was then taken out of the picture until there were no cups left. Depending on who you were playing with, the cups were filled with water or beer (Emily hated when they had beer in them, it make things sticky and it was very unsanitary), there were specific rules to what defined an airball, when one could get balls back, when you could call island and what was a permissible trick shot.

“Ha ha Prentiss,” Derek said to her, rolling the ping pong ball in his hands. “I wanted to know if they had played before.”

“Oh I’ve played before,” Penelope said, “and I am unbeatable.”

She waggled her fingers in a gesture that implied magic was involved.

“It’s simple physics,” Spencer added, “I’ve memorized the rules and common approaches. We’ll be more than fine. ”

“Ok pretty boy, let’s see what you’ve got. Eye to eye?”

Looking into each other’s eyes, rather than at their targets, the two boys aimed at the cups, with only Reid’s making it in.

“What the fuck Morgan,” Emily exclaimed as Penelope and Spencer whooped, “what even was that throw?”

With the other team having won the privilege of starting first, Emily was forced to toss her ball towards Penelope, who took it with a grin.

She threw first, missing the table entirely.

“Air ball!” Derek announced, leaping forward and waving his hands in front of the cups on their side, the rules granting him the ability to defend their territory.

Spencer frowned, apparently perturbed by this turn of events. He stuck out his tongue, aimed, and launched the ball, hitting Morgan right in the chest. The ball bounced off of it and fell straight down into the cup.

Derek’s draw dropped. Spencer and Penelope whooped in excitement.

“Derek, how did you lose us that cup?” Emily whined, pulling one of their cups to the side. One point to Spencer.

Derek, who had something to prove, lined up his shot. He gazed at his targets with the focus of a sniper, dunked the ball into one of their cups, dousing it with water, and rolled it in his hands, giving it a bit more weight. He aimed and fired off a quick shot into the centre-left cup. It spun around in the cup, floating above the water, but fell in. If the other team were crafty, they would have blown into the cup and Derek would have lost the point, but Emily sighed in relief when she realized that despite their first point, they didn’t know the rules well enough to beat the current reigning beer champs.

It was Emily’s turn. She took a gulp of her beer—she would always swear she was better when she was drunk because she didn’t think too hard about it—and threw. It neatly fell into the back right cup, scoring them two points for that round.

“Balls back!” Derek roared in delight.

Penelope tossed them, and the game continued.

They sunk one more shot on their turn. 3-1.

Penelope got another cup, Spencer missed. 3-2.

Derek’s ball bounced out, Emily sank hers. 4-2.

Only minutes later, after playing at breakneck speed, there were three cups left on the table and Derek and Emily were quite drunk, with Penelope not far behind. Reid, still very sober, was matching the duo with intense concentration.

It was his throw, with two cups left until his victory. He shots carefully, sinking it without a splash.

Derek and Emily had one cup to go. He went first, sending one barreling towards the cup. It hit the rim and instead of going in, it bounced towards Emily, who leaped forward and grabbed it before it fell off the table.

“Trick shot!” She yelled. Derek could try again, but only if he does it in an inventive way. At the frat house they spent a lot of time in first year, the only acceptable trick shot (under this house’s rules) was bouncing the ball off a poster of Obama. This time, Derek takes an empty cup, puts the ball in, and uses the cup to aim.

Somehow, it went in.

They leap into the air, yelling with delight. But they hadn’t won yet. The other team still had a redemption shot.

“How ya feeling kid?” Derek taunted, “Wanna give up now, save yourself the embarrassment?”

“Not a chance.”

He squinted at the table, lining up his shot with precision. With his left hand he licked his finger, sticking it up in the air like golfers do to measure the wind. Emily wasn't sure if this was a joke, something to psych Derek out, or something the boy was genuinely able to do. He frowned, seeming to ponder the information.

He aimed. He tossed it. He sunk the redemption shot.

They were in overtime.

“You can do it princess,” Derek told her, watching her with utmost intensity. Emily adjusted her stance, chugging back the last of that glass of beer, feeling the alcohol with greater focus than before.

She glanced around at the other team, but out of the corner of her eye she caught a familiar face looking at her: Jennifer Jareau from residence. Her not crush.

She was looking at her. Watching her play.

A swell of nervousness flooded up through her lungs, and she forced it out by huffing a breath.

She needed another drink. Moreover, she needed to focus.

Emily threw it. If it made it in, then they won. If she missed, Spencer and Garcia had another shot at redemption. They couldn’t lose this, not now, not in front of… uh, everyone. She was definitely not thinking about JJ in this situation. That would be something a frat boy thought about. She didn’t want to win beer pong to impress some girl, she wanted to win because she had pride.

The ball sailed through the air, Emily held her breath. It caught the lip of the cup, teetered. A splash announced that they had won.

Thank god.

With a whoop, realizing what they had done, Emily and Derek roared with joy, jumping into each other and hugging in their celebration. A few onlookers clapped, noticing how close the game had been.

They pulled apart and reached out their hands to their opponents.

“Great game,” Emily said, shaking Spencer's hand, “Really.”

He grinned despite his loss.

“Honestly I understand the principles, it’s simple parabolas and high-school level physics,” he frowned, “Unfortunately, I need to work on translating those parabolas into the real world.”

“We’ll work on it Spence,” Garcia grinned, shaking Emily’s hand while smiling at her younger friend.

Emily realized that in their celebration, Derek had spilled quite a bit of beer onto Emily’s sleeve and down the side of her shirt and it was currently dripping onto her boots. Emily sighed, handing her friend her cup.

“I’ve got beer all over me,” Emily sighed, “Get me a refill? I’m going to try to find a bathroom.”

Derek nodded and turned back to their new friends, chatting about how impressed he was with their game.

Emily felt a bit sticky, feeling the beer coat her bare arm. Walking back into the house, she glanced at the kitchen sink trying to see if there was any paper towel or something there, but no luck. The sink was full of dishes, the counters covered in assorted empties and cups, without a dishcloth in sight. Not wanting to rifle through their drawers, she made her way towards the staircase.

There was a couple making out on the staircase, which was not something Emily would do herself. It seemed a bit precarious since alcohol was involved, but, to each their own, she thought. Emily opened a couple of the doors upstairs before discovering one of the most disgusting washrooms she’d ever seen.

There was only one thing in the shower: dawn dish soap. The boys who lived here must use that for their bodies. Emily shuddered. On the sink were some toothbrushes, razors and some floss, but for some reason, no soap. Emily found a roll of toilet paper on the floor (ew), and wadded it up to try to reduce the wet spot on her side and hopefully from smelling like a brewery when she returned to residence.

For a moment, Emily found herself gazing at herself in the mirror, feeling hazy and a bit unsteady. She checked her make-up, noting that her dark red lipstick was holding up, but her mascara had smudged under her eyes giving her more of a goth vibe than the alt look she typically went for.

Emily sat down on the tub, patting the toilet paper against her wet clothing, feeling very drunk now that she was seated. Dammit Morgan, couldn’t he have spilled his beer on himself instead of her nice shirt?

The thud of the music was muffled, but there was a ringing in her ears that made everything feel very quiet. That was until there was a thundering of footsteps and the sound of a girl announcing: “I’m going to vom, right now.”

Emily sat, jaw dropped, as a red headed girl threw open the bathroom door, kneeled down on the floor next to the toilet, and relieved herself from the contents of her stomach without so much as a knock. The girl coughed into the bowl, yacking up what was probably way too much beer for the poor tiny girl.

“Oh my gosh,” said another voice, at the door, “I’m so sorry. We didn’t realize there was someone here! ”

Emily looked up, realizing the voice came from no other than Jennifer Jareau.

“JJ!” Emily said, not really knowing what else to do with the girl heaving at her feet.

“You ok?” JJ kneeled down next to her friend, carefully pulling her friend’s long hair back, tugging a hair tie off her own wrist and collecting it so that it didn’t get anything on it.

Emily felt stupid sitting on the tub, not helping anything. She tossed the rest of the toilet paper in the garbage, placing the half-empty roll on the edge of the tub.

“Can I get her some water?” Emily asked, “To rinse her mouth?”

JJ looked up at her and nodded. Emily felt herself blushing slightly as she turned away. Who let one girl’s eyes be so big, and so blue. It was rude.

She returned a minute later having had to rinse her own beer cup out in the gross kitchen sink to make sure that she wasn’t accidentally giving this girl some random person's sketchy cup.

Emily remembered that earlier Derek said that it was a varsity party, so it did make sense that JJ was also in attendance. The whole team probably was. The other girl looked like a soccer player, she had that vibe.

Emily handed the cup to JJ, who gave her a grateful smile. Emily felt their fingers touch for a moment, before JJ turned to attend to her friend.

She tried to get her to take a sip, and Emily took the moment to look JJ up and down, taking in her light blue skinny jeans, black tank and high heeled boots. She was basically wearing the uniform of a straight white girl at a houseparty. Not to say Emily wasn’t also basically wearing the same outfit, pairing the jeans with combat boots and attempting to set herself apart with her black nail polish and eyeliner that her mother once called ‘a lot.’

In contrast to Emily’s fairly undefined thin body, she took note of the strong looking shoulders that flexed as JJ kneeled down on the floor. She was definitely an athlete. Emily looked away, checking her phone, feeling suddenly embarrassed for looking at the girl.

‘Where u go bbg????’ Read a new message from Derek.

‘Girl puknigh up hre’ Emily typed, ‘Got her waterr’

Emily blinked at her typos, pressing the red underlined words, hoping her phone would correct them for her. She wasn’t that drunk.

The two girls were talking quietly, and Emily decided to take her leave, but before she could the red-head beat her to the punch deciding that she wanted to puke in peace.

“Leave me aloooooonnne Jennifer,” she wined. “Get out, I don’t want any more fucking water.”

JJ pulled back, making a face and holding her hands up in the ‘I surrender’ motion. Emily hurried out into the hall with JJ on her heels. The girl kicked the door shut angrily, and the sound of her retching ensued.

“There was a funnel,” JJ offered as an explanation. She leaned against the door. “How has your night been?”

Emily blinked. JJ was making conversation. She didn’t want Emily to leave just yet.

“So far so good,” Emily replied. “Doing better than your friend, at least.”

“That’s not hard to do. So I guess you didn’t chug from a funnel yet?” JJ quipped, smiling and revealing a perfect, white smile.

“Oh I have that scheduled for one-thirty, actually,” Emily said, pretending to check her watch and grinning.

“Let me know before you do, I’d like to watch that,” JJ said casually.

A wave of heat rushed to Emily’s face as she realized that drinking from a funnel would entail Emily on her knees, with JJ watching her… a thought that she needed to push out of her brain immediately.

“I’ll have you know,” Emily said in retort, “I can chug amongst the best. I am no stranger to these sorts of parties.”

JJ grinned. “Oh yeah?”

“I’m a reigning beer pong champ, I’ll have you know.”

They laughed.

“I saw your last victory. Very impressive.”

JJ, in a controlled fall, slid down the door and sat down in the hall, resigning herself to waiting for her friend. Emily wondered if she should return to Morgan now, but unable to tear herself away from the opportunity for a conversation with JJ.

“I’m awful at pong,” the blonde admitted. “I miss every time.”

“You probably just need a good teacher.”

JJ raised her eyebrows, “oh yeah?”

“I mean,” Emily said, sitting down onto the top step of the staircase, facing her floormate, “it’s all about hand eye coordination. It’s basically a sport. You need a coach.”

They both laughed.

“Well if that’s the case, why don’t you teach me?”

Emily gulped.

The door opened, and JJ fell back slightly before catching herself.

“I’m going home,” JJ’s friend announced.

JJ looked up at her dishevelled friend and nodded, turning back to look at Emily apologetically.

“Another time?” Emily offered, smiling before walking down the stairs and rejoining the party.

Next chapter ->

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds tv #jemily #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #criminal minds au #queerminal minds #criminal minds fic #emily prentiss x jennifer jareau #jemily fanfiction #my post #my writing #this is going to be a LONG one #mostly fluff #i love college au #gravelyhumerus cm college au

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yutatube · 3 years

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Rinzumi | Suna Rin (me) x Iwaizumi Hajime

fanart | playlist

a/n: half of the headcanons are in third person just for the sake of writing.

zodiac compatibility | capricorn x gemini

If they’re operating from a base of love and mutual respect, they’ll be able to overcome most obstacles, but they must work hard. Gemini must have freedom to think outside the bounds; they rely on their quick wits, humor and intellectual prowess to move through life at a fast pace. Capricorn is concerned with advancement and status; they rely on following the rules and finding set, tried-and-true paths to follow toward success, no matter how long it takes. Gemini likes to cut corners; Capricorn likes to be thorough. These two Signs’ challenge as a couple is to learn to maintain a similar pace so they can arrive at the same place at the same time. Capricorn is very unassuming and quiet, which stands out even more against Gemini’s outgoing, boisterous nature. Capricorn tends to be slow, steady and stubborn while Gemini is flexible and tends to change their mind a lot. Gemini has a quick brain that sees loopholes in an instant, while Capricorn is tough to convince that taking advantage of a shortcut is a better idea than following the well-mapped course that they know will ensure their success. However, if these two can learn to understand and then implement one another’s approaches, they can achieve far more than they could alone. These two Signs may make much better business partners than they do lovers.

mbti compatibility | intp x istp

communication: INTPs and ISTPs are both Introverted, Thinking, and Perceiving personalities, preferring to keep to themselves, prioritize logical thinking, and avoid restrictive scheduling. Because both are confident and level-headed, they should feel free to express themselves clearly and directly. INTPs should avoid conceptual expressions, while ISTPs should generally avoid being too focused on the details of a situation around INTPs.

resolving conflict: INTPs and ISTPs should be direct in addressing conflict. ISTPs need to solve a problem by working through the facts of a situation, so INTPs need to be patient and allow ISTPs to focus on the present. ISTPs should allow INTPs to share potential solutions to the problem, working alongside them to find a mutually beneficial resolution.

building trust: INTPs will grow to trust ISTPs who will listen to and encourage their creative ideas. ISTPs should appreciate INTPs’ innovative solutions. ISTPs are likely to trust INTPs who can think practically and can be present in conversations. INTPs should try to focus on the here-and-now to relate more to ISTPs.

dealing with change: ISTPs and INTPs are very similar, which can help them better understand one another. Though they are Introverted, they should be careful to remember the importance of working with others on occasion. Their differences can also help them be a more well-rounded team. ISTPs can help INTPs focus more on present experiences or facts, while INTPs can help ISTPs think about new ideas for the future.

trope: best friend’s sibling, friends to lovers, secret relationship

song: streets by doja cat, pov by ariana grande

canon couple we’re most like: Allie and Noah (The Notebook)

ship we’re most like: IwaOi (my highest kin is literally Oikawa)

tiktok trend we’re most like: fuck romeo and juliet, I want what these bitches have

headcanons:

Iwaizumi knew he shouldn’t feel anything for me. I’m his best friends little sister, for fuck’s sake. It’s just wrong, but he couldn’t help it.

The harder he tried to ignore his feelings and move on, the harder he fell.

Just thinking about how Oikawa would react to him holding feelings for his sister was enough to hold him back.

But there were always the other side of his mind that assured him that it was okay.

‘She’s only a year younger, she’s a second year. It’s not that big of an age gap.’

‘You’ve loved her for years, Oikawa is bound to notice at some point.’

‘She looks at you the same way, just say something’

But what Iwaizumi didn’t expect was for Oikawa’s precious little sister to confess to him.

Iwaizumi didn’t intend to sneak around behind his best friend’s back, he didn’t intend to make out with his sister while Oikawa was in the shower. He didn’t intend to stay the night with her while Oikawa was staying over with Mattsun. He didn’t intend to have a secret relationship with his best friend’s sister, but that’s exactly what happened. They weren’t sure how long they could keep it a secret for before Oikawa caught them.

The answer was three months, and when Oikawa caught them, it wasn’t pretty.

Oikawa had come home early in after staying the night with his girlfriend, but upon entering, he found a shirtless Iwaizumi cooking breakfast in his kitchen while his sister was hugging him from behind.

Naturally, Oikawa was furious. How long have they been sneaking around? When did this start? How did this start? How could Iwaizumi put his hands on his sister?

After explaining everything to him (and a promised week’s supply of milkbread), he eventually came to terms with it. He wasn’t happy about it, but it was their life.

He absolutely did threaten Iwaizumi, though.

General headcanons:

He loves cuddling. He does have a bit of trouble asking for them, but the minute I lay down, he’s pulling me closer to him.

Every time he takes off his shirt, I whistle and he turns red. I find it really funny.

He’s my ideal man, ngl.

His pet names include: babe, darling, princess, doll.

He never calls me by my name but it’s Haji, so I’m cool with it.

The first time I visited him during practice after we became public, he sends a soft smile my way and everyone is just ??

Even Hanamaki is just ??

“Was that a smile?”

“Stfu.”

He loves holding hands.

And touching in general.

Any excuse to touch, he will do.

I like to think for giving, his love language is physical touch, acts of service, and gifts. In that order.

For receiving, he loves quality time. He loves just being around me. Even if we’re doing nothing, he just enjoys having me by his side.

Dancing in the kitchen? Absolutely.

The reason I associate pov and Streets with him is because:

“For all of my pretty and all of my ugly, too, I’d love to see me from your point of view.” When Iwaizumi loves, he loves hard. He pours his heart and soul into the person he loves, and he wants them to be happy. Even with all their faults, Iwaizumi loves them and wants them to see what he sees. He wants them to see how amazing they are.

“Damn papa, you a rare breed, no comparing and it's motherfuckin' scary. Tryna keep him 'cause I found him, let a hoe know I ain't motherfuckin' sharing. I could take you to the parents, then to Paris. Plan a motherfuckin' wedding. You the type I wanna marry (yeah) and keep you merry. I'll put the ring on when you ready.”

I feel like that’s pretty self explainatory.

And

“And it's hard to keep my cool when other bitches tryna get with my dude and when other chickens tryna get in my coop 'cause you're a one in a million. There ain't no man like you.”

I’m not the jealous type, but if I saw another girl or guy flirting with him, I would definitely stare them down. If they touched him, Haji better hold my hoops because I’m about to beat this bitch’s ass.

Gotta train him to be the perfect husband.

Step one: a bitch asks you to help her fix her tire, you say, “no, I’m married” and leave. They can ask someone else.

Overall, Haji is just amazing, wonderful, marvelous, and perfect. He’s the standard. RIP everyone else.

— yours truly, sunarin

#—www.rin writes shit #—www.selfships #💙iwaizumi #💙rinzumi #dibs on haji #iwaizumi #🧇suna’s hcs #Iwaizumi selfship #Iwa x me #Hajime #Iwaizumi x me #haikyuu #haikyuu selfship #Iwaizumi x reader

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soliavenne · 3 years

Text

Ok here we go, ◇ anon here, let’s talk about this mess of a novel (good and bad). Unfortunately I don’t see an option to add the “read more” break in the submission editor - if you find a way feel fee because this will be quite long.

[warning: spoilers of Gaara Hidden from this point on also please read the original post first, this is just a response to the author of this blog]

Link to the post for reference! https://soliavenne.tumblr.com/post/637596997003722752/thoughts-on-gaara-hiden

1. I agree so hard with this one. While I don’t feel like he liked Hakuto in a romantic sense (I mean there was simply no time for that) - it was just heartbreaking that he compares getting an arranged marriage to dying - just the idea that he can’t even have a say in that part of his life is so sad … Then how he becomes hopeful it might be tolerable just because she is not immediately repulsed by him - tragic. 2. yes, just yes. I hate the thought that Kankuro is just like “nah my brother, who until now never showed interest in romantic relationships, should probably be forced to marry a random girl so I don’t have to” and Temari is just ok with it. I mean it’s true that this might be the only real option sometimes, especially when your marriage is a political affair - however, I would at least expect his siblings to get upset that their little brother is made to endure yet another thing because of the elders. I completely agree that it would seem more like Kankuro to consider taking that burden himself. He clearly has already taken on at least some responsibilities for Gaara’s sake (like helping him to support his leadership from the sidelines). Also - maybe it’s because Gaara is a male character - but I have a feeling if he had been a girl the writer might have put more focus on how cruel it is to force someone into a marriage. There was a lot of effort put into making him seem cool and calm in every situation - not so much on his emotional side. Gaara was never emotionless, far from it - he always had some scenes where he acted rather shy/flustered and it’s been shown that, while he is usually protected from physical injuries, the words and actions of others have the capacity to hurt him severely. To me, he feels like the one person you would not want to force in an intimate relationship with a stranger because there is just no way he wouldn’t take it very seriously and try his best no matter how the other person treats him.

3. agree completely. It didn’t feel like the Gaara we saw in the manga and anime up until that point. Although the novel was obviously approved by Kishimoto, I would say there are a lot of people here on tumblr who have a better grasp of Gaara’s character than the author of the novel - keeping in mind that writing a book takes more than fully understanding your main character. The focus was to make him appear cool and always on top of things - not to depict his emotional conflicts and more awkward side. 4. again yes - The point about his mother just feels like a plothole. I also don’t enjoy the thought that Gaara NEEDS a love interest. He has always been written very vaguely about this sort of thing, why not keep it like that? To me it didn’t feel like he was interested in her in that way, he met someone he admired but it really didn’t go anywhere. That space in the book could have been better spent on exploring relationships with existing characters or to add interesting parts about Suna’s culture and politics.

5. and 6. YES Now for the better parts:

1.I like this bit of added background - another part that feels like Suna is a mix of japanese and middle eastern cultures, same with the tea scene.

2. I feel like this line especially is a big reason why people feel like he is asexual or demi. It’s just interesting to see that he can read this type of thing and feel absolutely nothing from it. This supports the idea that he needs a strong emotional connection with people first and foremost. (And it makes him a character to relate to for people who are also on that spectrum. Even if it was never outwardly stated, for me this line hints severely at the fact that he is at least leaning towards the ace-spectrum, yet doesn’t exclude the possibility that he might find a partner one day.)

3. like stated in 1. I like that scene a lot - it’s a cute idea that Gaara would do little charms/rituals here and there because they might help in his daily life. Even he sometimes leans into things that would be superstition for others.

4. I remember telling you that part made me cry - it’s just such an emotional line. 5. This was so cute. I’m a firm believer that the book should have contained more of that and remove at least one of the new characters that ended up being insignificant. 6. For me this fits his character so well. gaara-obsession-blog has been referring to things like that in their analyses quite a bit - It makes sense for Gaara to abstain from things that could take away some of the control he fought for for so many years… 7. Adding to that - I found it interesting that they stated Gaara is very resistant to genjusu because he had to fight for his consciousness with shukaku for so many years. It fits the canon AND it fits his character - definitely one of the bits I appreciate. 8. I knew you would appreciate that line^^ I like the suggestion you made for an alternative plot. Another interesting part for me were the lines of Gaara addressing why he has never had a love interest. He talks about the fact that he believes the girls in the village who admire him, do so more because of the persona they imagine for him - he feels like they don’t truly like him. The line “and because of Temari’s stealthy handiwork in getting rid of unwanted admirers” still makes me think. I wouldn’t think Temari would actually hurt anyone wanting to get to know her brother. The games have a scene where she asks naruto to guard Gaara’s office while she has to leave for a short time. You are basically asked to send everyone away - if I remember correctly this includes people who are disguised as kankuro, a child who wants help with their cat, someone who just wants to see the kazekage in person and - most relevant here - one of the fangirls who wants to get close to gaara. To me, this means that Temari probably did her best to keep all the people away who were fascinated by Gaara because of his reputation - not, that she would actually go after a person who gets too close to him, who has genuine feelings and doesn’t bother Gaara. But this quote definitely made me consider its meaning for quite some time - I mean, if Temari truly wanted to keep someone away from Gaara at all cost - I’m sure it wouldn’t end well for them. I only hope Gaara became better at rejecting people’s requests - otherwise it must have been hell after she left and there was no one to guard his office– I’m sorry this turned out rather long - there is just so much in this book that either bothers me or makes me think if this fits the characters or not. I’m glad to talk about it with someone.◇

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As expected as always, ◇. You took the words out of my mouth hands down. I also really appreciate the fact that you brought up a trivia from the games (I haven't played them yet AAAA) so it's a whole new interesting information that I wouldn't be able to learn if you didn't mention it! To be honest, the whole "Temari's stealthy work" didn't sit quite well with me at first as well, so I'm really happy that you cleared that up for me! That'd been such a huge help!

You have nothing to apologize for, ◇! If anything I honestly love receiving your asks/submissions! They're very interesting and I could clearly see the efforts you invest in discussing your points in such a detailed way. You're also able to back it up effectively! It's honestly such a treat to read through. I enjoy them so much.

Thank you soo so much for having me as usual! The feeling is mutual, I'm glad I was able to talk about Gaara Hiden like this with you, ◇. :) <3

#gaara hiden #◇#submission

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