#sudden inspiration to prevent an actual drowning

[warriorteam1924]

The daffodils look lovely today

Freddie Mercury x Jim Hutton

Author’s note : Hello my beauties. This piece is very special because it is for a special event. This is for Freddie Mercury weekend 22, hopefully fitting the prompt ‘petals’ I’m not tagging the host cause i don’t expect a mere reblog just because or to have visibility. I want to express my love for Freddie, Jim, Queen, while I’m not particularly at a good place at this very moment. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks in advance for the feedback. Also, I remind you English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakes….

Warnings : none, despite it’s not my fave genre, this is fluff.... 

Summary : Flowers and Petals in Garden Lodge.... 

Words count : 1,343words

Permanent tag list : @reavenedges-lies @thosequeenboys @born-to-lose​ @orionis8689​ @queenlover05​ (I’m begging you to let me know if the tags bother you please) 

Jim Hutton wasn’t sure if he was truly a gardener or not, all he knew was he adored flowers. All of them were so wonderful, so unique, and their smell was so exquisite. Being outside Garden Lodge was always a blessing for him. No matter the season, he enjoyed being surrounded by nature. Psithurism was surely one of his favorite melodies. But it was before he met Freddie Mercury.

 Jim couldn’t exactly recall when he realized he was in love with this wonderful man. All he knew was that he couldn’t bear to live another day without being by his side. Jim loved everything about Freddie. His charisma, his kindness, his extravagance in public while actually being sometimes reserved in private. He was of course such a handsome man, Jim couldn’t deny it. And his voice. Freddie had managed to seduce the world with his voice, and Jim knew why. He had fallen for it as well. No matter what Freddie was saying, just rambling about the very often unpleasant British weather, or enthusiastically moving his arms as he was talking about the last opera record he got, Jim found it was always the most wonderful sound to come to his ears.

 Jim didn’t know what Freddie found attractive in him. He was an average man, not really good looking. But eventually, he convinced his own mind that Freddie also loved him back for who he was, that there was no need to try and be anyone else, since the singer was always sincere and genuine with him. There was no longer need to doubt, no time to waste with questions and uncertainty.

 As he was spending a lot of time in the garden while Freddie was in the studio recording or arranging music with his band, Jim particularly enjoyed taking care of the garden, making sure there were flowers all year long. This way, he always had an excuse to offer a fresh bouquet to his lover.

 Freddie was always delighted when he got flowers from Jim. He was taking them in his arms with a wide smile, and Jim felt his heart melt every time the singer was grinning, aware he was one of the rare persons on this planet to have such a privilege.

 Yet, before the bouquets could even wilt, Jim always noticed the vase was emptied. Every time he passed in front of the emptied and cleaned vase, he wondered if one of the cats had knocked the flowers over, but also asked himself why the vase wasn’t broken. Yet, despite the questions, Jim carried on making sure there were blossoming flowers in the garden, and always a nice bouquet for his lover in the house.

 It was another day and yet another celebration for Freddie. He was proud of Garden Lodge and loved to have guests around, taking any excuse to have people coming over. Jim wasn’t fully sure as for why the singer liked to have guests so often, but as long as it made him happy, he didn’t care much.

 “Jim, darling, could you bring us our hats, please? I don’t want our heads to overheat while we’re outside.”, Freddie asked his lover, then pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “You know, the ones with the flowers. I wouldn’t want to be out of tune in this wonderful garden.”, he added with a wink, shaking his hips a little with a smirk.

 How could Jim ever say no to him? With a smile, and feeling like he blushed a bit all the same after Freddie’s kiss, Jim headed inside then went upstairs, looking for these outrageously big hats.

 Freddie was a very conscientious man, but him seeking for perfection only applied to music it seemed. This wardrobe was an absolute mess. There were clothes everywhere, only a few things actually properly folded. Jim sighed, but began to move the T-shirts and other colorful tops to find the hats.

 “There is even a carton box in here, what the hell….?”, Jim sighed, exasperation slowly winning over his patience.

 He put it aside, willing to carry on looking, but he couldn’t find the hats Freddie was talking about. Maybe he had put them somewhere else….

 Jim turned again, putting the clothes back inside the wardrobe. There was no time to fold them properly anyways. Freddie and the guests were still waiting in the garden.

 He looked around to make sure he didn’t forget anything, but he noticed he had left the carton box on the bedroom floor. Rolling his eyes as he wondered how on earth he was going to fit it back in the wardrobe, he took a closer look all the same. And he even dared to open it after reading the label that was written on top of it.

 Freddie was still in the garden with his guests, looking towards the bedroom windows, wondering what was taking Jim so long. He excused himself then headed back inside, willing to find Jim.

 The singer directly walked towards the bedroom, where he found Jim seated on the floor, with a notebook open in front of him. The carton box was still on the floor, open as well.

 “Oh.”, Freddie let out as he saw this scene.

 “Freddie….”, Jim said, half whispering, half sobbing.

 “Oh, no, no, please don’t cry, darling, or I’m gonna cry as well….”, the singer hastily said, rushing towards his lover, sitting next to him.

 “Fred…. What does it mean?”, Jim asked, pointing at the box. “Where does this come from?”.

 “Well.”, he replied, passing his hand in his shiny black hair. “I gathered a few petals from the bouquets you’ve been offering me from the beginning….”, he explained, feeling embarrassed. “All of them, actually….”.

 “Oh, Freddie….”, Jim said, tears running in his cheeks again.

 “And in the notebook you have in your hands, I taped all the notes you wrote to me, when you gave me the flowers….”, the singer carried on explaining.

 “That’s so so sweet of you.”, Jim said, placing a hand on his lover’s cheek, caressing it with his thumb. “But…. This doesn’t explain what’s written on the carton box….”, he pointed out.

 “Well. It’s…. I ….”, Freddie hesitated, mumbling slightly. “I keep those for the kids to throw the petals on the aisle when we get married. Hence, the ‘our wedding’ note on the box….”, he said, lowering his head.

 “But….”, Jim hesitated.

 “I know.”, Freddie replied, fully aware they couldn’t legally get married.

 The two of them remained silent, dreamily staring at the carton box, fully of colorful petals Freddie had gathered.

 “Will you marry me?”, Jim suddenly asked, as if it was coming out of nowhere.

 “What?”, Freddie asked.

 “Freddie Mercury, will you marry me?”, Jim repeated, looking at him in the eyes.

 The singer frowned, not really knowing what to do. He knew it would never lead them to a real marriage with a real administrative proof the two of them were legally partners. But he also knew he loved the man standing next to him, the man who still had his cheeks wet because of the tears, more than his own life. There was no need to pounder the question.

 “Yes. I want to be your husband, Jim.”, Freddie eventually replied with a smile.

 The two men embraced each other, both of them rolling on the floor, kisses covering the other’s face. They carried on rolling on the floor, pecks still pressing on their respective skins, until they bumped in the edge of the bed.

 “Ah, look, here are the hats….”, Jim said, as he looked under their bed. “The guests are surely wondering where we are….”.

 “Yes, probably. But I don’t care. I’m your fiancé now. Nothing else in this universe matters.”, Freddie replied, putting yet another kiss on his lover’s lips.

 They eventually grabbed the hats and went back to the gardens with their guests, enjoying this beautiful day.

 And it was the most wonderful of them all, because once again, Jim and Freddie’s hearts were filled with the other’s love. 

[belladonna-miranda]

Red Sky: A Jackass Mermaid fanfic

I've never written a Jackass fanfic inspired by a song before, so bear with me it I drift off too much.

One partly cloudy evening ashore, Knoxville, accompanied by two members of the new Jackass cast, Rachel and Poopies, captains his ship back to the dock following another successful fishing haul. On his way back to the dock, he spots a creature swimming underneath his ship. Its tail was golden scaled and its fins a brighter yellow.

He checked below deck for that suspicious fish. "I know what it is. Just can't pinpoint if it's a big-ass fish or not," he informed Poopies, who joined him in studying the sudden movements in the sea.

"What was that thing underneath the ship, Knoxville?" the surfer newcomer asked. "Must be some swordfish or some shit."

"I don't think it was a swordfish, Poopies. Maybe it was a fucking octopus," Rachel, the only girl aboard, added, "unless it had those sharp, pearly-white teeth."

She crept closer to the edge of the ship and heard what sounded like Pontius calling out to the entire crew. The closer the creature swam towards the ship, the more the trio narrowed down their sea creature possibilities in the setting sun. Then a muscular hand with a smiley face tattoo around the wrist grabbed Poopies and threatened to drown him, his face sporting a panicked look as he hyperventilated.

"Holy fuck, Rachel. You'll never believe what I just found!" the surfer dude exclaimed in shock, the creature raising his head above the surface.

Rachel rushed to Poopies. "What the fuck did you see?"

"This creature over here is not a swordfish, or even an octupus. But a mermaid," Poopies couldn't help but absorb the creature's beauty while the duo pulled him out of the water. With his long dark brown hair draped down his upper back like strands of seaweed, hazel eyes shining like gemstones, a neatly trimmed beard, and a toned physique adorned with a few tattoos on his arms, one of them an anchor below his right elbow, the two newcomers knew it was Pontius. However, his lower half told a different story: instead of legs, Pontius had a golden orange fish tail with one of his scales on his upper right tail being darker orange than the rest. Poopies and Rachel had caught a lovely merman.

Pontius cluelessly stared at the duo. "I'm actually a merman, Poopies," he corrected the surfer.

The sky turned increasing red as the sun sank below the horizon, so Knoxville returned to the cabin to sail the ship, while Rachel and Poopies admired mer-Pontius on deck, then warned the captain.

"KNOXVILLE! KNOXVILLE!!" Rachel called him.

Knoxville turned his head towards the female Jackass. "What you find over there?"

"Poopies and I were out observing the deck, and then this creature was swimming right next to us. We realized that it was Pontius - in merman form!"

"Remember the old maritime saying, Red sky at night, sailor's delight; red sky at morning, sailor take warning?" Knoxville informed the other two sailors as Pontius flopped his tail over the edge of the ship, his fins skimming the surface.

"Of course, Knoxville. Some merpeople can lure you into the sea with one deadly kiss," Poopies warned the other two sailors. Meanwhile, Pontius began singing as he lowered himself into the sea, and Poopies followed his voice while approaching the deck.

Rachel ran after him and restrained the other newcomer, shouting "Poopies, no! Where the fuck are you going?" as she prevented him from falling under Pontius' siren song. The merman seductively swished his tail in front of him during the struggle.

"I can't help it, Rachel," Poopies reluctantly stated, "Pontius wants me to join him underwater so that he won't be alone in the sea. Don't come near him or you'll drown as well."

The lone female Jackass tearfully watched Pontius drag Poopies into the sea, where the two men swam deeper and deeper below deck until Poopies could barely hold his breath. Knoxville comforted Rachel losing her closest friend to the siren song before sailing their ship back to the deck.

[saphirered]

Hey if you don’t mind could you write just a big fluffy Grog piece where I’m at right now I need me some Goliath cuddles 🖤🤍🖤🤍

Hope this turned out to your liking! 😘

There you are seated at your desk bend over stacks of books and paper scribbling as you go. You’ve been at this for more hours than you can count but you need to get this done. For your own sake because you don’t think you can handle another sleepless night just stuck thinking about this. Best to just get it over with. You’re hyper focused, driven by a lack of sleep. Everything around you as faded into the abyss, the scribbling of pen on paper drowning out the sounds of the world you. If no one comes to fetch you you’ll forget about breakfast, lunch, dinner, what time is it again? Nevermind. You’re almost done. Keep going!

Grog paces back and forth your door at the end of the hallway, book in one hand crumpled piece of paper encasing a feather quill that’s seen much better days. He takes a step closer in the direction of your chambers but refrains from taking another and goes back to pacing. He doesn’t want to disturb you. He knows you’re working on something important but you’ve been cooped up in your chambers for two days now and you haven’t come out to eat anything since lunch the day before. Two days is a long time to go without food and you surely haven’t had any Strongjaw Ale. He doesn’t know how you cope without.

“Hey big guy. Still hasn’t left the room?” Vax comes out of nowhere trying to jump scare the barbarian. Grog, although scared won’t admit it and play like it hadn’t affected him at all. Though, a keen ear could hear the grip on the quill tighten and crack. Unlucky for him Vax’ildan has keen ears. It doesn’t take a genius Vax worries for you too. It’s not healthy behaviour and you desperately need to eat something.

“Why don’t you go get something from the kitchen and bring them some food?” Vax had seen Grog’s pacing and moment of hesitation. He knows better than to play into his affections for you or whatever he’s doing with a book and piece of parchment filled with squiggly lines resembling letters.

“Yes. That is a good idea, I came up with myself but since you mention it, I think we are in agreement.” Grog holds his nose high. He should have thought of that himself but the half elf doesn’t know that, does he? Vax pats his arm. Totally pulled that off!

“Excuse me while I go get some food.” Grog excuses himself with the same attitude of a genius. Or at least a genius in his opinion. If he acts like this is his interpretation of a genius then what does he think you are? Vax doesn’t want to know and instead lets the goliath fetch you some much needed food.

Book and quill sticking out of his pocket, cask of ale under one arm and carrying a plate with a variety of things; mostly meats and things he’d actually seen you enjoy and knows you like. See? He can be a good listener! Grog approaches your door. Now how is he gonna knock? He knows you hate it when people just storm into your room. His arms are full. He’s got legs though. But what if he spills the ale? He’ll just gently bump into the door with his shoulder. Keyword; gently.

You hear a muffled knock on your door but you almost have this equation right! Just a little more. The knock returns a bit louder this time. You can’t snap out of it now! Almost! Another even louder knock more akin to something or someone slamming into your door. Ha! Success! You jump from your seat but are unsure if it’s because of your successful completion of your endeavour or because of the hulking goliath tumbling into your chambers.

Grog shoulder checks the door one more time and yes he’ll admit he might have been a tiny bit too rough as the door bursts open, he falls through. He allows the cask of ale to roll from his grasp and decides to save the plate of food. There you are jumping up from your seat nearly spilling a half drunken goblet but you too save it from spilling. You make eye contact with Grog and you burst out in laughter at the goliath quite literally presenting you a meal on his knees face inches away from the floor preventing a disaster.

“I brought you some food.” Grog states as he slowly gets up. He doesn’t dare look up at you yet both embarrassed and fearing he may have disturbed your work. When you walk around your desk over to him you take the tray from his hands. You nudge his arm, a thing you do to ask him to lean down a little, and when he does kiss his cheek. Immediately the worry disappears and the happy giddy Grog returns. He picks up the cask of ale as you guide him along to your desk and begin to clear the area to make space for the meal Grog brought.

Inspecting the contents presented on the fancy if not oversized platter, you notice they mainly contain meats which leaves you to think dinner but the waffles and fruits throw you off a little. Is this breakfast, lunch or dinner? You don’t know what to think. Grog takes one of the cups, the normal sized one first and fills it with ale presenting it to you. You accept it with a thank you pulling over a seat he could comfortably sit in.

You enjoy your meal, Grog having brought enough you tell him you’re not eating all of this alone so he better join in. You know he’d been eying that chicken, practically drooling. Grog fills you in on all the things you’ve missed in your uninterrupted work days. He may hype up some parts and underrate others, not mention some important things because he thinks they’re unimportant but you appreciate it nonetheless and enjoy the conversation. Grog gets more excited and loves every laugh and response you give hence him exaggerating some things knowing they’ll make you laugh.

Grog had forgotten the book, quill and parchment in his pocket until he adjusted his seating to be more comfortable and heard something creak, or more like crack and something tickle his bare stomach. He suppresses a giggle and you notice. Grog tries to move so the feather can’t tickle him but in doing so he makes it worse; the more he moves the more it tickles his side.

“Grog, is there something you need to share?” You question giving the goliath an opportunity to come clean about what the hell is up with him. You’re half suspecting some kind of prank from Vax or Scanlan to be the cause of this but you must admit you’re surprised when he pulls out a broken quill, crumpled piece of parchment and a book and puts them on the table. Grog looks down hiding his face from you as much as he can. You’re unsure if he’s embarrassed or nervous.

You grab the parchment and begin unfolding it. Grog squeaks quickly pressing his fingers to his lips. You give him a look. Eyes fall upon the parchment and you notice the top half as dwarvish while the second half is common. The lettering isn’t the neatest but it’s readable and has seen some practice. On the back you see everyone’s names written out, most misspelled but it’s clear they’re your names. There’s little drawings with each name some a bit juvenile to where you entertain the thought he might have drawn some inspiration from your satire ‘satyr’ friend… They are actually quite funny.

“Did you do this?” You ask as Grog is midway through eating his own fist in suspense.

“Yes.” It’s the tiniest squeak possible. You don’t know how that sound came out of the goliath’s mouth. You turn it over and return to the writing giving it a closer look.

“It says ‘can you teach me how to read please.’” Grog says awaiting your response.

“Why the sudden interest? I know Pike’s been working on dwarvish with you. Don’t you like her teachings?”

“No. I do. I just…. I’d like to… I want to read this.” Grog grabs the book and you read the title. It’s your favourite. It’s not an obscure story no one’s ever read. It’s a common fairytale collection you grew up with. No matter the age, everyone loves these stories, if anything they grow more interesting with age and the ability to comprehend them better.

“I like you and you like books so maybe if I got better at reading I could help you and you won’t have to spend your time alone working.” Grog admits and it makes your heart melt. You know how hard it is for Grog to read and write and to know he wants to learn more for you, is too much to bear. It makes you a bit emotional. You get up and walk around the desk engulfing the goliath in the biggest hug possible.

“Of course I’ll teach you, Grog. I’d love nothing more.” Happily his arms wrap around you and pull you even closer to where you’re lifted off your feet. You know this is a sign of happiness from the man.

“Really?” He chirps and you nod giving him a kiss to his cheek.

“Of course.” You smile. Grog releases you but sits you down on his lap grabbing the book.

“Can we start now?” He’s excited flipping to a random page in the book. He’s very glad there’s pictures in this one too. You begin explaining the fundamentals of the story hoping that context will make it easier for him to understand. Reading word for word is one thing so you try to make it easier so he doesn’t have to focus on deciphering what he’s reading about just yet and focus on the words.

It takes a good amount of time but you get through the first page. Grog’s aware you could have finished the whole book by the time he finished the first page but you don’t mind and are enjoying teaching him. The smile and kiss you give him ever time he finishes a paragraph makes him feel giddy on the inside. He knows you notice and makes you vow to never tell the others.

[solinarimoon]

Within These Walls

AN: This is for @for-bebbanburg and her 250 follower challenge. It is a Sihtric x FemReader. It is actually a companion piece to my entry for her 100 follower challenge.  If you’d like to read that piece, which was inspired by the song Rewrite the Stars, you can find it here.  My prompt for this challenge was the quote “I came to claim the one I love.” from A Court of Thorns and Roses.  I’m tagging my usuals and anyone who expressed interest in me writing a follow up on the original.  I hope you enjoy! Congratulations Rosie! You deserve all the followers and more!

Warnings: Angst, mentions of past abuses, rape, avoiding unwanted pregnancies, and cannon violence.  I think that’s all.

Word Count: 1358

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were standing in that cramped, dusty shed behind the kitchen. 

The shed where you had allowed him to drag you for tiny moments filled with desire.

You can still hear his voice pleading with you.

Noone can say what we get to be.

His ghost haunts your steps throughout Dunholm. Hidden underneath empty stairs and behind deserted corners you see him.

He beckons for you to come. Run away with him like he wished. 

Maybe if you had left with him…

Maybe you could have made a small life together. Full of loud laughter and soft embraces. 

Maybe if you had not run to him in your weakness then he would still be here. And you could still have those precarious stolen moments. 

Hidden away from his brother’s taunting gaze. From his father’s cruel nature. 

But you had. You had run to him for comfort and it had been your undoing. 

A quiet sob escapes your lungs as you wrap your arms around yourself. Trying to hold on to the moments that slipped through your fingers. 

Hold on to that feeling of his arms, safe and secure. Clinging to you as desperately as you clung to him. 

You stagger over to the cabinets and lean your forehead against the dark, cool wood. 

Take a steadying breath. You used to take these breaths while leaning into his arms. 

Slowly you bring your head up, wipe your eyes, and steal yourself. 

Opening the cabinets you see the small pouch left by the old cook. She knew herb lore and often supplied the women of Dunholm with medicines. The sort to prevent unwanted seeds from taking root. 

Like the seed you always fear will sprout from the seldom occasions when Svenn spills inside of you. He prefers to use Thyra for that. And you are just for sport. Not for fathering his children.

Even though it is you who is his wife and not the wild woman in the cellar.  The woman he claims truly holds his heart but who he treats no better than a slave, a dog.

Gently, you reach out to take the bundle and slip it into one of the pockets lining your skirt. 

The sound of shouts and clatter of heavy wood startles you.  Slowly, you peer around the corner of the doorframe into the alleyway.   From your vantage point, you can see Kjartan, Svenn, and their men running towards the ramparts and the front gate.  The sounds come more clear now and with a rhythm.  

It is a battering ram at the gates.  Kjartan’s enemies have chosen their moment to strike.  Down the alley and across the yard, you can see men pausing to peer around the corner.  

With a sudden realization, you know they are already here.  Kjartan’s enemy is already within the walls.

Quiet as a mouse, you slip out of the door and back away to return to the hall from a separate side entrance.

 Your steps are quick and silent as you try not to attract attention.  

Thinking silently to yourself, you move amongst the shadows through the hall to approach the chambers you share with your husband, Svenn.  Your movements are slow, cautious.  You mustn’t attract attention. 

Once inside, you gather a meager bag of necessities.  You had suffered at the hand of Svenn for far too many years.  This may be the only chance to escape him, while everyone’s attention is on the invaders.

Suddenly the sounds of the onslaught increase.  Those inside have struck.

Your feet make their way towards the door, prepared to run from the hall and head to the well entrance, knowing it would likely be forgotten and undefended.

After a few steps, the sound of a snarl over the din of battle outside grabs your attention.  Svenn’s wild woman, Thyra. 

If you were to make your escape, you would not leave the woman behind to endure more torture.

You find your body racing back towards the main hall to only slide to a stop upon seeing Thyra already standing surrounded by her dogs.  They’re snapping and snarling, inching closer to the hulking form of your husband.

He had returned from the ramparts when he knew the gate would be breached.

He had returned for her. His delusion of a mutual love between them, a true perversion of the word.

The dogs slowly advanced towards Svenn as Thyra’s eyes bored holes into his soul.

But all of their attention was shifted to the side door, when a man came crashing through, sword raised.

From your position across the room, it is impossible to clearly see the man.  He stands just behind one of the many pillars in the hall.

But you see the shock on Svenn’s face when the man’s arms rise to remove the helmet he wears.

“You! We heard you were dead. You are supposed to be dead” His words trailed off as the stranger stalked forward several paces only to stop short when the dogs snapped their teeth in his direction.

“I am very much alive, brother. Very much so. And I came to claim the one I love. Where is she?” Sihtric demands, his voice a low growl.

“Sihtric,” you gasp while moving into the full view of the room.

Sihtric’s eyes snap to meet yours and the wave of relief and love that spills from them is like fresh air to your lungs when you’ve been drowning for years.

Slowly, so very slowly, your feet move to cross the room.

Thyra gives a hissed command to her hounds that causes them to look to her and back down as you cross their path.

The crash of sword and shield outside has faded to whispers.

Standing in front of Sihtric now, your hand rises to touch the chest of his armour, then up to crest his shoulders. Finally resting against his cheek, he leans into your embrace and brings his forehead to rest on your own, breathing you in.

A moment later, he shifts you to stand behind him as he raises his sword once more.

But before he can speak or advance, your hand stills him.

Sihtric looks to you questioningly, but you turn your gaze to meet Thyra’s eyes.

For all her suffering and torture, you can not take her revenge from her. Words unspoken pass between you and the wild woman.  Svenn is hers to send to Neffelheim. Tears spill from your eyes as you give her the slightest nod.

Thyra turns back to meet Svenn.

He has watched your reunion in silence.  A dread settling over him knowing he has met his end.

He pleads, “Thyra, please.  Thyra, do not do this,” only to have his words forever silenced as Thyra gives her hounds the command.  

After the life has fled from Svenn’s body, Thrya and the hounds return to the shadows and Sihtric turns to you.

His hands grip onto you as if you were life itself.

“I feared I would never find you again,” he breathes.

“They told me you were dead,” you tell him while looking into his eyes,“but you’re alive. And you have come for me,” you sob through a smile while allowing your body to relax into his arms.

“I would die for you,” he whispers into your hair.

Tag List: @for-bebbanburg @pokeasleepingsmaug@maggiescarborough @nxrdist @mystic-shadows42 @emilyhufflepufftlk @magravenwrites @morosemagick @lauwrite1225 @thebohemianpenguin @mrsalwayswrite @notyourwildestdream @obipoelover @ecarroll1978 @93xdiagonxalley @nobodys-business-world

[bleulone]

i love your analysis so much! i have a question as well, like, how do you envision polin's sex scenes ? thanks for your answer (:

    Hey! Thank you very much :)) I have no idea if they are that even good but I’m happy you like them. It’s just my brain tending to produce some iNsIGhiTfUL analyses though they usually end up drowned under a huge wave of stupidity and horrid spelling/grammatical mistakes XD. So, about Penelope and Colin’ sex scenes, I guess we’re getting spicy in this house 🌶. I mean, I don’t blame you. Who’s not hot for Polin ?! The steamy Polin hours have already begun and they’re legit challenging my patience. (Be still my Polin heart, be still).

   Okay, without further ado, let’s talk about sex baby, shall we ? It’s a pretty long answer/meta so bear with me.

    I don’t know if you’ve read Romancing Mister Bridgerton, but a quick reminder (for those who haven’t... yet), there are a bunch of iconic steamy scenes that I’m dying to watch on screen. First we have the famous “thank you” scene where Penelope, now a 28 year-old spinster, asks Colin to kiss her because she doesn’t want to die without having been kissed... then ends up thanking him— which happens to be humiliating for our 33 year-old boy because he thinks that she thinks he did it out of pity while he absolutely did not. The man definitely felt butterflies in his stomach... and in other places as well lol. We also have the ICONIC carriage scene where Colin gives Pen’s generous bosoms™ the attention they deserve. This is followed by his proposal. Later on, after the announcement of their engagement, there’s a pretty hot make-out scene on Lady Violet’s sofa. Finally, we have their first time in Colin’s bedroom, after sneaking out of their own engagement party... which leads Colin to push the wedding date forward. At this point, I just love their horniness, especially Colin’s who’s just so freaking amazed by Penelope for more than 300 pages straight (duh! who isn’t ???).

    When you say envision, I suppose you mainly refer to the way those scenes will be filmed right ? I’m afraid I don’t have an advanced knowledge in film-making but let me start by telling you what elements need to be depicted. I would love Shonda and Chris to capture the real essence of our boos’ feelings : the yearning, the love, the respect and the guilt (specifically on Colin’s side) in their eyes. The more we move forward throughout the seasons, the more we see different layers of the perceptions of they have of each other, going from a childish idealization/immature ignorance to a sudden realization. A mature one. Penelope goes beyond the facade of the charming devil-may-care guy to meet the seriousness and temper of her significant other. Meanwhile Colin discovers how confident, powerful and attractive this woman is and always has been. It echoes what I’ve written about the importance of the gaze in Polin’s love story in this meta. By the time season 4 hits, man... their heart eyes and eye-fucking will jump OUT XD, all fibers of their beings, burning with need. The fact that this evolution took literally years is very emotionally painful, which is why I find it important to keep the slowness aspect of their relationship before and during their love making. I’m really looking forward a slow build-up toward their intimacy. It would differ from Daphne and Simon who merely shared one hell of a kiss in Lady Trowbridge’s garden then shared their sexy times after they married or Anthony and Siena’s rough sex... In fact, there’s a certain (sweet) ardent tenderness in Polin I like due to the fact that they’re slowly (re)discovering each other, as adults. Since they were both introduced in season 1, the audience will have all the time in the world to notice numerous evidences of the many natures of love they have for one another : from an affectionate and friendly love to a more carnal and enduring one.

    Okay so, in terms of filming, with Netflix’s Bridgerton being a show which promotes the female gaze, it wouldn’t be that much of a surprise watching those sex scenes being shot from Penelope’s perspective, like it was the case with Daphne in the first installment of the series. Most of the time, sex scenes in Historical Romance are not gratuitous. Their presence serve an important purpose in a hero/heroine’s journey. In Penelope’s case, they’re here to help her learn to embrace and love herself. In other words, sexuality is synonym of freedom. I don’t know if they’ll show a lot of skin, but I won’t be complaining considering the fact that we’ll have the chance to get a chief kiss treat on screen : a plus size woman in a major successful Netflix period drama getting a love story as romantic and steamy as other more “fit” female characters. No, your weight doesn’t prevent you from being desirable at all. As far as I’m concerned, I haven’t watched a plus-size female character portrayed as an attractive protagonist in a period drama (please if you have, let me know, I can be wrong). Having a beautiful half bare curvy body like Nicola’s being equally filmed like numerous slim actresses will be so inspiring and powerful to watch, especially for (young) women who struggle, like Penelope, to love their body shape which, to them, doesn’t “fit” the “beauty standards”. By showing her female gaze and portraying her as seductive, Pen’s “supposed” imperfections transform themselves into mighty assets, loved and worshipped by our dashing Mister Bridgerton. That’s body positivity at its finest darling ;).

    It will be deliciously erotic watching the undressing process being exquisitely slow, garment by garment, while their gaze are all heated and hungry. Their sex/make-out scenes should be tender and passionate, sweet and raw. The lightning, colored by a dark blood orange yellow or a blue depending the locations^^. Moreover, the depiction of the exploration of Penelope’s desire can translate itself thanks to multiple close ups. For instance, I can imagine a few ones on Pen’s fingers gently roaming over the smooth skin of Colin’s firm chest and back/touching his hair right after he removed his shirt. And a disheveled Colin letting his hands and lips making a journey of their own, mapping, conquering the alluring unknown territory that is her gorgeous voluptuous body... kissing her on the places he knows oh too well will give her pleasure (is this me wanting him to go down on her?— um yeah I sure hope it IS! If he doesn’t, trust me imma riot... AGAIN). Even a close up on her face while Colin is performing his addictively pleasing torment will be a marvelous proof of the female gaze. By the way, why not even adding a post-coital scene after their first time ? I can picture Penelope waking up first and contemplate her handsome soon-to-be husband. She’d bring her hand to his face and let it travel all around his forehead, his cheeks, his lips, his neck and let it rest on his heart— making sure that what she’s just experience was real... obviously, Colin will wake up in the process and he’ll take this as his cue to go for another round of sexy times under the sheets.

   Showing Pen reaction is essential according to me because she was stuck with the idea that she would never experience the luxury of being loved, giving pleasure nor receiving it... she ended up being happily wrong. Throughout her multiple intimate encounters with Colin, I want her to progressively realizes that she can be an active partner. In the carriage, she knew she had an effect on him, but it’s not until their first time that she actually realizes it. Hence the reason why I WANT the mirror’s introduction in one of their sex scenes. Here’s as a little reminder an excerpt from chapter 18 :

“I want to see you sitting up," he groaned, "so I can see them full and lovely and large [about Pen’s breasts]. And then I want to crawl behind you and cup you." His lips found her ear and his voice dropped to a whisper. "And I want to do it in front of a mirror."

“Now?” she squeaked.

He seemed to consider that for a moment, then shook his head. "Later," he said, and then repeated it in a rather resolute tone. "Later.”

   It would be such a shame if the show doesn’t use the incredible potential of this object (/kink). I mean, the symbolism is pretty clear. Penelope has always fled her “ugly” reflection but it seems like Colin wants to show the real her, the beauty that holds every single inch her alabaster skin and the effects they have on him. Thus, I would love to watch a scene where Colin just praises the alluring goddess and siren that is Penelope Featherington. Just imagine! Just IMAGINE the power of this scene : a shirtless Colin sitting behind her on a bed, meeting her gaze in the mirror, his lips touching her right ear, biting and licking the lobe sometimes, whispering all kinda of dirty yet poetic words to her while letting his hands caress her thighs, her hips, her arms, her lovely bosoms™... oof. At the same time, a wonderful and harmonic instrumental music will play in the background and match the melodic partition of shudders, breathes and moans let out by our lovers. I can imagine Luke inspiring himself from his performance in the 2019 short film, Youth In Bed. The way he conveyed the awe and the yearning on his face, in his eyes with his mouth slightly open when he knelt before his partner Shun Yin was just captivating and— and so Colin! I cannot help but bring myself to picture Ethan, the character he played in YIB, in a Polin steamy scene. I cannot unsee this anymore jsksk. I mean, all this gifset radiates this book4chapter18!Colin, you cannot tell me otherwise!

    Also, I would love Shonda and Chris to keep Pen and Colin’s cute/emotional pillow talk. One thing I really love in JQ’s books is the concern she gives to her male protagonists about potentially hurting their partner during the act of penetration. Colin is a rake, and what his experience with women taught him is that he needs to be very gentle with the love of his life. It was so adorable seeing him not wanting to harm her and asking her to tell him if he does anything she doesn’t like 🥺. Plus, before actually doing it, Colin and Penelope shared a few kisses and just laid down side by side, confessing their love. Though our boy kept feeling guilty about not returning her love after all these years. He desires nothing but to make up for the lost time and show his love and desire during this special intimate moment. I hope they’ll keep all of chapter 18’s dialogue. It’s just so telling of our boos’ feelings, you see.

    All in all, I can’t wait to watch those Polin steamy scenes. As much as I may sound crazy, I want them after two other seasons of pure pining and yearning in order to have a very good payoff. I’m not an expert on depicting intimacy on screen, but I loved so far what Lizzy Talbot, the intimacy coordinator who worked on the show, have done in season 1. Sex scenes in Bridgerton seem very real and dive you in the intimacy of the moment, leaving you all flustered and hot. So probs to her! I have faith in her work and have no doubts about what her and the directors will serve us in future seasons. Though, in the end, I think it’s mostly up to the actors, Nicola and Luke, to see if they’re comfortable filming sex scenes.

    If you guys have any suggestions or wishes for those steamy polin scenes, please do share them :) by commenting on this post or by sending me asks! I’d love reading your thoughts/take on this very important matter ;)) 

[bluwwo]

I dreamed that Yor has stopped a missile (which I discovered it was actually a torpedo, thx Lacrow) some days ago so... I made this

The image is merely illustrative

The actual thing is down bellow~

-----

The ship floats softly and calmly on the blue sheet as those men and women moved hurriedly, slyly and were maliciously running towards a thorny hole, they were walking towards their own death.

The woman, owner of such trap, used her mastery to eliminate one by one in her thorny trap. And one of them was a man hiding in the vessel's hold and who had access to bugs spread throughout the ship.

The place looked like a small command room, but the woman didn't mind because as the director had already told her, many parts on that ship were once parts used in Ostanian warships.

Next to what was once a "coworker" of hers was a small desk with assorted buttons, a control panel. Everything seemed to be fine until a green and yellow light caught the woman's attention.

Her scarlet eyes gleamed, reflecting that light as she curiously approached the dashboard. She realized that this was just a radar, with its waves trying to find some other vessel or threat. At first, Yor thought it wasn't even working until a loud and repeated "beep" caught her attention.

As she looked at the radar, her eyes widened in horror. A small blinking dot slowly approached the ship that was represented by a large triangle in the center of the radar. The radar was big, so whatever was approaching was really far.

Yor didn't have to be a Marine Lieutenant to know that it was…

"A torpedo…" Her voice barely left her throat.

Her body trembled, and the color drained from her face. A powerful weapon like that targeting innocent people, children and families?

Her muscles tensed and she quickly fled away from that place. And with her heart beating unsteadily and fearful of the impending catastrophe, she chased the Director across the ship with agony coiled in her throat.

"Director!" Her voice was a loud whisper, fraught with anxiety. "Please tell me you have a secret entrance and exit to the sea."

"Thorn Princess, why all this commotion?"

"Director, you told me this ship has parts from old warships, right?"

The man narrowed his eyes and just nodded.

"It seems that this is not the only one... According to radar, a torpedo is heading for this vessel." Yor exhaled, trying to maintain a serious facade.

The director's normally stoic, expressionless face contorted in surprise and confusion. The man gulped.

"Are you sure about this, Forger?"

"Mister Director, why would I lie about this?"

The man sighed, and the tension in the room was so thick that people around them could feel the sweat running down their spines.

"Luckily for you, there is an emergency exit in the depths of the ship that gives access to the sea, but you'll need great lungs." The exasperated man said, looking seriously at the Princess.

The woman just nodded and followed the director, Olka, who had heard everything along with her fake husband, followed the assassin.

The director had some keys that gave access to certain areas of the ship, and using that, he made his way to a deep room, and they stopped in front of a heavy door.

"And what do you intend to do with the projectile, Forger?"

"I'll deflect it up." She pointed to the sky.

"But there's still the risk of it falling somewhere else." retorted the director with mild irritation.

“And that's when you two…” She points to the director's two partners “… get into it.”

"How?" asked one of them, scared.

“My husband seems to have a lot of knowledge in military equipment, he always slips a thing or two correcting the action movies…” Yor reveals with a slight smile. "And according to him, this type of projectile can be distracted by fireworks, creating new targets and preventing it from hitting the actual target." She said, taking a box of fireworks and handing it to the man.

"I need to launch these fireworks, but when?" He replied, still pale.

"You'll know when, just look at the sky, if you see a trail of smoke, release the fireworks." Reaffirmed Yor with an inspiring smile.

“Forger, there's a pier a few miles from here, when it's done, go there and wait for the ship, one of the guys will be on deck, and I'll stay here with Olka, he'll see you and send the signal and then I'll open the way for you to board." The man explained, and the woman nodded. "And, Yor, what if it doesn't work?"

"I need to try... My family is on this ship." In a voice full of sorrow, she said. "And in case I don't make it, I'll be just another dead flower in the garden." She smiled. "If I don't come back, just say I fell overboard and drowned."

The woman opened the heavy door, meeting with a staircase.

"When you get to the end of the stairs just hit the wall twice and I'll open the passage."

The woman nodded before starting to going downstairs, the quick sound of her heels impacting the metal was in harmony with the racing hearts of the five people in that room, but the rose’s heart lost its beat and beat slower and slower, the cold sweat made her shiver and she seemed no longer able to breathe.

Upon reaching the end of the stairs, Yor gulped and with clenched fists placed her hands on her chest, asking any deity who could hear her, for a miracle, a miracle to help her save the many lives that were on that ship. And in a sudden movement, she punches the wall, making a loud noise and closing her eyes, she punches it again.

The wall in front of her reveals a door, opening a passage to the sea, her red eyes met the calm blue waves, but in her mind, that blue world was churning in waves that engulfed her, an almost thalassophobic feeling swallowed her, but closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she ran and leapt toward the ocean.

She tried vaguely to open her eyes and to her surprise the salt didn't bother her so much, surfacing quickly to catch her breath, she spotted Olka, being held by her husband and the director McHannon at the door of the sea passage, the expression on her face was worry, fear, the simple discomfort of “seeing her little brother give himself up on such a dangerous journey”, at least that's what Yor felt.

The black-haired woman just waved to the woman she was supposed to protect and dove again. Her trained legs moved quickly and skillfully, giving her a quick swim. The woman rarely surfaced to catch her breath, but when she dove once more, her keen sense felt something heavy approaching at high speed. Yor’s chest writhed in fear, fear of failing and hurting her family and others on the vessel.

She couldn't fail at that, so she surfaced again. Yor touched her chest and took a deep breath, her lips trembled and even though she was already wet, she felt her eyes watering, she couldn't deny she was terrified. She just couldn't fail.

The woman held as much air as she could and dove once more, and her other side slowly revealed itself, the fury of an assassin, a mother and a wife. Her scarlet eyes blazed with bloodthirsty anger as she clasped her arms in front of her face and using all her strength, she pushed herself, swimming as fast as she could, and that sense of impending danger increased each second.

Finally, the time seemed to have come, as Yor felt the hot, pointed tip of the projectile in her hands, the impact of the weapon was spot on, pushing the woman for a few miles, but Yor regained her strength and began to push the torpedo trying to change its direction.

However, as strong and resistant as she was, she was still a human. Her lungs were threatening to reach their limits, her chest ached and her head throbbed, her body was shaky and wobbly… She couldn't take it anymore.

.

.

.

.

Mama! Mama!

Mama! Let's play!

I love my strong and cool mama!

"Anya." Her conscience whispered, in a desperate attempt to wake her up and remember why she was there.

She needed to stop it; she needed to do it; she needed to deflect it.

She needed to survive.

She needed to see Anya again; needed to hear her voice again, needed to see her smile. She had to see her grow up; had to see her mature; had to see her become a beautiful, grown woman.

She had to be there to see this.

The red eyes snapped open and with a muffled cry across the sea, she gripped the projectile by the base and launched it with all her strength out of the sea, after the adrenaline had passed, her body remembered she couldn't breathe, so she quickly swam to the surface, where she could see the torpedo exploding in the sky, really far from the boat, along with the lights and "booms" of the fireworks.

The woman smiled as the bright lights of the explosion decorated the sky. Blowing up the torpedo wasn't quite the plan, but at least everyone was safe. Yor took a deep breath and kept smiling, if she wasn't keeping a secret, she was sure Anya would love to hear what she just did, the smile faded little by little when she noticed the smoke vestige on the horizon, she had noticed that there was also a trail of bubbles behind the projectile, if she followed that track, she might find the person behind the attack.

Again, her scarlet eyes were filled with fury as she slowly went down the water, the woman swam fast and rose a few times to catch her breath, and then she found a submarine.

While trying to approach the submarine, Yor was quickly captured by a net. The woman struggled but when she realized she was being pulled into the submarine, she faked a faint.

.

.

"Yea! It's her! Thorn Princess in person! I really thought she was going to be tougher, but it was easy to get rid of her.” A male voice spoke animatedly.

Yor woke up and watched closely the male figure who spoke exultantly on the phone. She lay a few more minutes to listen to him. The woman had to hold back her laugh as she heard the man say that "I would even try something with her… a date or such, since 'the royalty' is a gorgeous woman."

That man didn't have a third of her husband's charm… her fake husband.

Sly and furtive as a black serpent, the woman rose, her dark-colored dress giving the impression that a black mamba was on board the submarine.

The man had already finished talking to whoever it was on the phone. He was holding a file, probably his next "customer".

"In a little while, you'll be next, your little manwhore." The man chuckled to himself, looking at the file, not noticing the beast that came behind him.

Suddenly, his head was being held in one hand while a sharp needle was slowly piercing his back. Sweat ran down his spine as his mind had simply made him sure that he was just a helpless rabbit against a towering, dominant panther.

"Please, I really want to believe that you are so much more than a child with your expensive little toys." The whisper reached his ears, carrying a defiant tone.

And the coldness in the woman's words made the man shiver. He swallowed hard and didn't even try to turn around, just shivered and remained motionless, waiting for his end.

The bloody eyes continued to watch their hostage intently, waiting for some kind of reaction. But that man was simply too scared to react in any way.

"You… you really are… the… royalty." He stuttered, and Yor could feel him struggling not to choke on his impending tears.

"So I was wrong, you really are only your toys."

The man began to hyperventilate as the color drained from his body, his cheeks tinged red from the humiliation he was feeling… coming from the person he most admired.

But he needed courage, to at least make the Thorn Princess take back what she said, so, aiming at the red button on the control panel, the man tries to stretch his arm to reach it, but the powerful princess holds him back.

The man spins, making the woman fall on top of the control panel and coincidentally, triggering the big button she wanted to avoid.

The man ran through the submarine, while the red lights flashed a warning of the destruction of the vessel. He searched all compartments for his diving suit, while being chased by the princess.

The annoying sound of the alarm made the woman even more distressed, she had no idea what that button did but, whatever it was, it wasn't good. Then, she finally finds her "coworker" and jumps on him, pinning him to the ground.

"What does that button do?" she asked.

"It activates the submarine's self-destruct. If you hadn't offended me I wouldn't have activated it."

Yor's face contorted in anger as she gripped the man tighter.

"If I hadn't offended you? If you hadn't launched a torpedo, threatening the lives of many innocent people, it wouldn't have even started!" She growled.

"Too late princess." The man replied maniacally, smiling.

The woman didn't even have time to think, all she could hear was a sharp noise as the temperature inside the vessel rose. She turned around and the orangish and yellowish lights lit her red eyes. Suddenly, a loud bang was heard as it simply tore the submarine into pieces.

Yor had to hurriedly hold her breath as she woke from the sudden explosion. Looking up at the surface, she spotted the man who owned the vessel, floating in the sea. She didn't know if he was unconscious or dead, but he would give some good information anyway, so she swam to the surface, and was soon surprised by the pier the director had determined as a rendezvous point.

She swam to the building while dragging the man with her, the woman climbed onto the pier and lay down on the cool wood to catch her breath, however, looking to the side, she noticed a paper near where she had placed the man.

The woman walked over and unfolded the paper, recognizing it as the file the man was reading earlier.

The back of the file read: Twilight, Western Spy. Height: 6'1. Known aliases: Robert, Lionel, and … Forger.

The woman looked closely at the file, and her blood froze when she read "Forger". The first name was smudged by the water as well as much of the file, but the other words were more readable. This "Forger" couldn't be her husband, could he? There must be many people with that last name. Her husband is a good and respectable man. He wouldn't be a spy, a liar and… a manipulator…

Yor swallowed and reread the file once more just to be sure: Twilight, Western Spy. Height: 6’1. Known aliases: Robert, Lionel, and … Forger.

She took a deep breath and turned the file, finding a photograph of the "Twilight", her eyes widened as her hands trembled, the traitorous spy was a blond man, it was the only thing she could see of the blurry and almost unrecognizable photograph, however, unfortunately, Yor was good at deciphering facial features, and using her skill, she realized that the man had blue eyes, and was probably good looking… Just like her husband.

Yor shut her eyes and just refolded the file and tucked it inside her dress, she shouldn't make rash decisions, she trusted Loid... But, that could be a sign that he might not be who he says he is. The woman then took a deep breath and when she turned around, she was greeted by the open passageway to the ship, waiting for her.

She then caught the unconscious man on the pier and brought him with her as the woman boarded the ship again. Her scarlet gaze was lost and wavering, as well as the red sun hidden by clouds in the twilight.

[neomanateefromexiletribe]

princess

Diavolo x Lucifer, DiaLuci

Fluff, Making Out

Diavolo accidentally turns into a woman and Lucifer is the one who has to deal with it. Inspired by this fanart.

There’s a knock on Lucifer’s door, loud enough to make him look up with a frown. The oldest brother hesitates, anxious that it might just be one of his siblings or MC determined to prevent him from doing his paperwork, but he gives in and tells whoever it is who’s now banging on his door to come in.

Surprise paints itself all over his face when a young woman barges in, a bright smile lighting up her face. She’s gorgeous, her skin glowing despite the lack of sun in the room, and her yellow eyes are sparkling with a hint of maliciousness. She’s wearing a red dress that highlights her generous curves, and it takes Lucifer a second to remember where he’s seen that dress before: it’s the dress Asmo designed for a sticker of Diavolo.

Suddenly, the gears in Lucifer’s brain activate: that skin color, the yellow eyes, the red hair… it can’t be?

“Um… Diavolo?” Lucifer asks, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“Hello there Lucifer!” the young woman answers, waving a hand as she gets closer to him. “Don’t I look amazing?”

Lucifer takes another look at her, and coughs in his fist.

“What exactly happened?” he asks, not understanding how in the world Diavolo went from a huge demon to a beautiful demon lady.

“Simeon sent me some drinks from the Celestial Realm, but it appears that Solomon accidentally messed up their content, so now I look like this!” Diavolo explains, seemingly unbothered by his new appearance. “I had no idea I would look this good as a woman. I should’ve tried changing my appearance way earlier, don’t you agree?”

“I guess it is a good thing you don’t mind this sudden… change, but perhaps you should contact Simeon and Solomon in order to know how they can fix this?” Lucifer suggests, trying not to come too close to Diavolo.

“Don’t worry, Barbatos already told them of what happened and they’re looking into the matter,” Diavolo answers, “so now all I have to do is wait until I can somehow go back to normal. That said, I’m not particularly looking forward to going back to my former appearance too soon, I do like this one.”

Lucifer can’t help but sigh, and he sits down again. If Barbatos has already contacted the troublemakers, it’s one thing he doesn’t have to do, at least. Remains Diavolo, who seems way too delighted with his new appearance, and Lucifer just knows he’s going to have to entertain him while he’s in this form.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bother you,” Diavolo says, still smiling brightly, “I’ll sit down somewhere and busy myself.”

That’s… unexpected. Usually, Diavolo never wastes a second trying to get his attention, and that even if Lucifer is drowning under paperwork. Lucifer nods at Diavolo, and resumes doing his paperwork. He quickly realizes that even if Diavolo isn’t doing anything, his mere presence is enough to distract him – but he can’t blame it on Diavolo, who’s quiet in a corner for now.

It eventually reaches a point where Lucifer is this close to giving up, and that’s when Diavolo skips to his desk, a grin plastered on her beautiful face.

“What if you took a break?” she suggests, leaning in enough that her chest is showing thanks to her cleavage.

Lucifer has half a mind to scream because it seems that no matter the appearance, Diavolo seems to enjoy showing skin, but he keeps his composure and merely nods. Diavolo beams at him and takes his arm before leading him to his room. Lucifer sits on his bed, fully aware that he’s not in a position of power here, and he tenses as he feels Diavolo climbing in the bed and getting behind him.

“What are you doing?” Lucifer asks, and Diavolo giggles.

In this form, his voice sounds much more feminine, but it’s still as loud as his original male counterpart.

“I’m going to help you relax,” Diavolo answers mysteriously.

It would be a lie if Lucifer were to say that he was unaware of the sexual tension sitting between him and Diavolo since centuries or perhaps more. But for Diavolo to wait until he was turned into a woman to act on their reciprocally buried feelings somehow disturbed Lucifer. Just because he was a woman now didn’t mean it’d be easier for Diavolo to win over Lucifer’s heart, and Lucifer hoped the Demon Prince knew it. As much as it pained his pride, it was with the original Demon Prince he had hopelessly fallen in love with, not anyone else.

Lucifer tenses once again as Diavolo back hugs him, bringing the back of his head against her chest. Lucifer can’t say that he didn’t see that coming, it was obvious Diavolo was delighted to experience being a woman with such ample curves. Lucifer breathes in and out, forcing himself to relax, and Diavolo starts gently massaging his shoulders.

“You really are too tense,” Diavolo comments.

Lucifer doesn’t answer. There’s no point in doing so, he already knows it.

“You know, I actually thought of something,” Diavolo adds, relaxing her embrace.

“What is it?” Lucifer asks.

“You know how in tales and such, all it takes is a kiss from the prince for the princess’ troubles to go away? I thought that maybe a kiss could fix my situation too.”

There’s a heavy silence for a few seconds, and Lucifer’s body moves before he can fully realize what he’s doing. Diavolo is soon sprawled on his bed under him, cheeks red and panting, and Lucifer wonders if he’s doing a mistake or something that will serve them both.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Lucifer asks, and he has no idea why his voice sounds so seductive now but it simply does.

“Please?” Diavolo merely answers, batting her eyelashes.

Lucifer presses their mouths together, and it’s like they’re both breathing again after being underwater for too long. It’s a kiss that’s long overdue, centuries of dancing around each other without daring to make the first move, but now it’s the first step to setting everything right.

Diavolo moans weakly as Lucifer licks the inside of her mouth, and Lucifer merely presses their lips tighter together. Diavolo is melting under him, but has enough grip on reality to take one of his hands and bring it to her chest, a silent demand for him to touch her more. Lucifer wastes no time in doing as asked, and Diavolo cries in their kiss as he gently gropes her chest.

“More,” Diavolo whimpers, “give me more.”

Lucifer is tempted to get rid of the dress altogether, but before he can do so, there’s a sudden cloud of smoke and the original Diavolo is back. It’s strange seeing him lie on his bed in such a vulnerable position, legs spread and eyes watering with lust, but It certainly isn’t disagreeable.

“Do you still want more?” Lucifer asks, a smirk stretching his lips.

“I very much do,” Diavolo answers, chuckling, and Lucifer kisses him again.

That dress is in the way and Lucifer won’t let it ruin his plans of claiming Diavolo as his own.

[eluminium]

Uh oh it’s a debate! (Fic)

Well uh, I’ve been dead for half a year. But now I’m back! Schools been a bitch but Summer break is here and I’ve written something out! Lets watch two idiots argue! Tracy Spacey belongs to @reginaldcopperbottom go follow them and Lucien Rousselle belongs to @quec-two follow her too

"Conductor, with all due respect, what will we gain from this plan?"

The varying tone of the Council Members' voice felt like acid in the Conductor's ears and the pressure inside her skull only increased. Elg felt a simmering irritation nip under her skin and she swore that she just popped a blood vessel. The sleek figure of her biggest rival, Tracy Spacey, stood with arms crossed across the table, unyielding in their questioning. A predominant frown showed their dislike, along with their stiff but straight posture. The air in Elg's lungs left in a huff, and the soft padding of her fingers traced her temples in circles.

"Didn't the older members of our honorable council teach you that you should never play all your cards on one possibility?" Elg challenge as her eyes traveled over the quarreling Council Member.

"Of course they did and that is why I am objecting to this self-destructive plan." Tracy fired back, a harsh glare treating Elg's larger form as she did theirs.

"To hide a large portion of our loot from our ally is only going to inspire mistrust Conductor, and for someone who fought so hard to establish it, I find it strange you'd risk it based on unfounded paranoia." They continued with a small smirk resting on their lips, the smugness leaking off their words.

Elg's lips were sealed while her form rose from her seat, the wooden chair digging into her hand. Her head lolled to the side, not unlike a curious dog.

"Unfounded paranoia? Mind elaborating on that?" She questioned, her fingers tightening around the rim of the chair.

"Tell me, do we have any reason to not trust The Masqueraiders and their leadership?" They spoke while their legs carried them towards the nearest window, gloved hands moving from gripping the other arm to gripping each other behind their back.

"There is no evidence of backstabbing after all." They continued.

"At the moment...Yes, there is no evidence of betrayal from our ally" The Conductor admitted through grit teeth, feeling the annoyance bubble in her veins as her eyes bore into the Council Member.

A satisfied sneer sneaked onto their face as their body twirled around to meet Elgs, displaying a feeling of victory and command despite standing a fair distance away from the Conductor.

"Then why are we having this debate in the first place? Order the Metallics to cease the transfer-"

The chasm that leaked words abruptly stopped as their gaze locked onto the finger that rose into the air, signifying them to shut up. A simple gesture for most, but those used to debates with the Conductor, it's a warning. Tracy felt a similar rage seething in their veins as the Conductor, but they chose to obey, crossing their arms with a grunt and a glare. They were however curious of what her counter would be.

Elg, satisfied with Tracy's silence, spoke.

"You are correct by saying there is no evidence of dishonesty from our ally-"

A snobbish glint danced in their eyes as they kept eye contact with Elg. In response, Elg's feet carried her forwards, closing the gap between them ever so slightly.

"-But have you forgotten what world we operate in Council Member?" She continued sharply while her steps danced closely to Tracy's personal space. Tracy felt their body react by taking a step back, and their arms sneaked back into a defensive position.

"I don't follow your line of thinking, Conductor" They rumbled as a counter, their asphalt-colored gaze hardening as they were locked with Elg's sharp ocean blue eyes.

With a confident step forward, and a small squeak from Tracy as their personal space was breached, Elg felt a dark chuckle escape her lungs.

"We're criminals, Council Member. We operate in a space where betrayal is rewarded greatly, and so are the Masqueraiders. Yes, they might not plan to betray us now, but in the future? Anything is possible. Besides, they might be planning to stab us in the back right now, we just haven't noticed."

For a split second, the room was silent. Not a single sarcasm-filled sound bounced off the metal walls. The only noises either of their ears could pick up were their own and the other's breathing. The space between them barely existed, their chests squished up against each other. Despite Tracy slightly outclassing Elg in height, Elg's more bulky form made them look quite small pressed up against her. The stillness continued. Tracy's mind drew a blank, Elg waited for a response.

But as the clock in Tracy's pocket ticked, both their gazes averted and both moved back a step, with the Conductor doing it calmly while the Council Members step was more panicky. Despite this, Elg quickly reestablished eye contact, refusing to look away until Tracy gave them an answer. Tracy, in their turn, fumbled a bit.

"D-Don't you think I know that?!" They spat out, flustered, while their body moved into a guarded stance. Their spine was erected and their foot hit the floor repeatedly.

"Well, If you did maybe you wouldn't be so naive!" Elg snarled back angrily, the rage in her blood starting to boil over. Both their tones drowned the room in toxicity.

"Don't patronize me, Conductor! I'm not a fucking child!"

"Stop acting like one then!"

"Oh, I could say the same to you! You're putting the stability of our alliance in peril because of some childish fear!"

"Why do you even care so much?! You were one of the biggest opponents of said alliance in the beginning! You fought tooth and bloody nail to prevent it, constantly calling me a false conductor who doesn't care about her people! And now that I'm actually prioritizing the Bowties you fucking fight me on it! What happened?!"

Their feet shifted their balance to their toes as a preventive scoff left them. Their body kept dragging in itself.

"It doesn't matter! People are allowed to change their god damn opinions Conductor!"

Suddenly, something clicked in the Conductors head, and her stare once again traveled over the huffing Council Member. The defensive position, the avoidance of the question, the almost fearful tone in their voice, bouncing around in her ear...

"You gotta be kidding me" She muttered spitefully, her stare turning into a glare.

"Wha-?" Tracy started but was caught off guard by the Conductors' sudden change in volume.

"It's that wasp-looking guy isn't it?! Lucien Rousselle, right?!" She raised her voice, the sound of fury echoing.

"W-What about him?! What the hell are you on?!" Tracy spluttered, a red heat traveling through their cheeks.

"Don't play dumb with me you clock-obsessed moron! It's so obvious even I can see it! I see the looks you give him! You're prioritizing your dainty little feelings over the safety of our faction!" Elg roared, the stomp of her steps slowly approaching Tracy once again.

"U-Uh n-no! That's not true! Uhm...uh...but but BUT WHAT ABOUT WEASLEY? YOU TWO ARE CLOSE! DO YOU SERIOUSLY THINK HE'D BETRAY YOU? YOU THINK HE'S JUST ANOTHER LUIGRA?!" Tracy bit back, panic rushing through their bones. They HAD to change the topic, and fast. Even if it meant hitting some weak spots.

Now it was Elg's turn to be completely bewildered. Her footsteps ground to a halt as she was forced to recalibrated her brain.

"What the...What?! Just because we're close and work together doesn't mean I'd sacrifice the safety of my fellow Bowties! And don't you DARE compare him to that...that greedy blue-haired fucker!" Elg stuttered out, confusion and anger dribbling off her voice.

"Well, maybe you should ACT like it then you daft idiot!"

"Hah! Rich for you to say love bird!"

"S-Shut up! I'm not in love with a fucking economics minister! You tried to teach Weasley how to play fucking POOL yesterday!"

"That has nothing to do with ANYTHING-"

"Oh doesn't it-?!"

"Conduta' Elg?"

Both of their mouths clamped shut as that familiar Arabic voice filled the room.

"Y...Yeah, Aynan?" Elg huffed out, completely out of breath from the shouting match.

"We nee' to le'ave tha' area soon, ya nee' to prepa' tha' train" He continued, his words soft and delicate like a cloud.

"Yes, yes of course. I'll head out now" Elg responded, her body taking her towards the door like she was on autopilot, with her Young Soul waiting outside.

Before she left the room, she once again stared into Tracy's thundercloud-like eyes. They were both gasping a bit, exhausted from the dispute turned screaming match. She was met by anger, confusion, and fear. Her own sky blue gaze showed similar emotions. From this, both of them knew this debate was far from over, and that they'd clash again one day soon.

[rpd-rookie]

Five Stages of Fatherhood - Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Summary: Fatherhood can be wonderful but for Leon Kennedy, fatherhood is scary and he is not ready for it at all. How is he going to process your unexpected news?

Author’s note: I wanted to release this one-shot for Father's Day but it was far from being finished. But here it is. I was mainly inspired by the recent posts I saw on Tumblr. I hope I did Leon justice and that you'll love this story as much as I loved writing it. Don’t forget to like/reblog and give me your impression.

Tags: Angst; Fatherhood ; Depression; Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism ;Anxiety; Language 

Also Available on AO3

Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.

           They say those are the five stages of grief. Five stages you must overcome to be at peace with yourself. Five stages you must experience, however hard and painful they are, to find the strength to pull yourself back together and keep on living.       Leon knew those five stages all too well. He had experienced them more times than he could count through all those years fighting since the Raccoon City incident. They had paved his life, making him wonder why and if he would ever see an end to it all one day.   But what he didn’t know is that he was about to experience them again. But in a new unexpected way he would have never imagined.

1.    Denial

           I’m pregnant. Three simple words that made his simple life suddenly not so simple anymore, repeating and echoing in his head, making him feel like his whole world was suddenly crumbling around him, over him, burying him under rubbles of fear and uncertainty.       I’m pregnant. He didn’t just hear that. This was a dream, a hallucination due to sleep deprivation or a silly joke. It had to be. Because it couldn’t be real. This couldn’t happen to him. There was no way he had gotten you pregnant. Yes, you were fooling him. Right? … Right? He had a brief forced laugh, anxiety eating him up slowly. “Please tell me you’re joking.”             Pinned to his desk chair, he stared at you waiting for a silly answer or an amused grin. He obviously got neither of them and so he immediately froze, watching you frowning at him with a look that was way too grave and serious to his taste. “Do you really think I would joke about something like this?” Why not? Anything would be better than those three words being the truth. “How can that be so absurd to you that I might be pregnant?” Pregnant? He felt suddenly dizzy. No fucking way.

Mouth slightly opened, confused and petrified blue eyes fixed upon you, and a marble immobility. That’s all that remained of Leon as he searched for something to say, something to think, something to reassure himself with, something to tell him that this conversation, this moment, was not happening right now. 

Pregnant? Really? “I didn’t get you pregnant.” You stared at him in shock as he relentlessly shook his head. “I couldn’t. It’s not possible. I…” He cut himself off when he saw you looking away, huge tears suddenly flooding your usually joyful (colour) eyes.  

Clearly, that wasn’t the reaction you expected from him. But that’s all his brain could process at the moment, the only thing it could find to keep him afloat, to prevent him from drowning in panic. “There must be some sort of mistake. I can’t be a father. This is not happening.”         Leon was freaking out. He couldn’t deny it. The pounding of his heart in his chest was enough evidence. But years fighting BOWs had taught him not to show any ounce of panic even in the worst situations. So, mechanically, no emotion filtered through in voice, making it almost cold. Actually, it sounded so heartless it rooted you on the spot, unaware of what was going on right now in your boyfriend’s head and unable to understand that his weird reaction was just his reason trying to calm him down and help find a quick way-out before reaching an inevitable end. That inevitable end being Fatherhood.          

“What are you saying?” You dared ask, your face suddenly pale because of the terrible things he implied.   “I don’t want to be a father, Y/N.” He declared looking at you right in the eye. “I don’t want whatever you think is inside your womb right now.” You slumped in your chair, feeling speechless and shocked but most of all, insulted. Did he just call your child a ‘whatever’ and insinuated it wasn’t even there? Was he really denying everything? Saying you were wrong? “Take another test. I’m sure this must be some sort of mistake.”           You stared at him, bewildered and fighting to prevent your tears from falling as shock was slowly yet surely turning into sorrow and anger.    

2.    Anger

“There’s no mistake, Leon. A gynaecologist confirmed it. I’m three months pregnant! Fuck, do you really think I denied this pregnancy on purpose?” There was a sudden knot in your throat, strangling all your words. Leon shrugged. “Honestly, Y/N, I don’t get how someone cannot realize they’re pregnant.”             “Simple. Imagine your boyfriend almost dying in a bombing attack in DC, then pushing you out when you try to help him. Then one day, after an entire month watching him falling deeper and deeper into depression despite all your efforts to bring him comfort, you realise that he left without telling you where he’s going. After asking a few people, you learn that he’s decided to take some ‘vacation’ but you know all too well that this vacation of his is just him drowning himself in alcohol in some lousy hotel.” You spouted angrily, feeling all your hormones boiling inside of you. “And I guess you can also add his four weeks of radio silence and the worry you felt when you learn that he who you loved so freaking much was almost killed again in another bio-terrorist attack, this time in New York. I guess that’s a pretty good way to make you deny a pregnancy!”   “Oh, so this is my fault?!” He asked, almost shouting, thinking your were accusing him when in fact you were just accusing the horrible stress and the worry you had felt for the last ten weeks or so. “I’m the alcoholic bastard who knocked you up and you’re the poor lost innocent girl? That’s what you’re saying?”     “Do you even realise how hurtful you are? Do you really think that is what I want to hear right now?” You tried to block a sob, in vain and Leon sighed in exasperation as he briefly rolled his eyes. He won’t have your crocodile tears right now. “Don’t force me on a guilt trip, Y/N. Please.” He said, frozen stoicism making his features as strong and cold as marble. “Weren’t you on the pill, by the way?” He frowned, and a tear rolled down your cheek. You wiped it quickly. “You forgot it?”      

You tried to answer but you knew that the second you would talk it would unleash Leon’s anger and you were not ready to bear it. “For fuck’s sake, Y/N.” Leon gritted his teeth and glared while you instinctively braced yourselves, hands holding tightly at the armrest of your chair. “You only had one thing to think about! One!” He growled, a scolding finger pointed at your face. “Take a fucking pill!” “I may have forgotten once” You whispered almost inaudibly. “Oh, you forgot?” He scoffed before slamming his hand against the wooden desk as he brutally stood up making you jump in your chair. “And then she blames me for my depression. Fantastic.” You frowned. That’s not what you had meant. “Leon…”     “You’re as responsible as I am, Y/N. You may have not realised you were pregnant because of what I did but you are the one forgot to take a fucking pill. And, how could you forget? How could you screw my life, both our lives, like that?” Leon screamed as he walked in circles in his office, like a lion in a cage, except that he was lost. He was lost in fear, panic and anger. And he had no control over them. Hard to bear for someone usually so grounded. And that what was pissed him off the most in this situation. Not the news of your pregnancy but lack of control.      

“Do you really think I want to be a father at the moment? Or ever? Do you really think our lives or this world are fit to welcome a kid right now?” His voice trembled, powerful emotions finally getting the better of him. A child of his could not be born in such an unsafe dark world. A child could not be part of his messed up cataclysmic life. Family was not made for him. He couldn’t be the devoted agent he was, save the world from awful monsters and have a normal life waiting for him at home. Leon had come to that conclusion years ago. And he even had accepted it long before meeting you.   “No. But it’s there now. So please, let’s figure out what to do.” You begged, understanding his fear and yet still trying to reason with him.     “What do you want to figure out, Y/N? I told you I didn’t want to be a father. And I thought I made that pretty clear when we had the baby conversation at the beginning of our relationship.”       Crystal clear. No living together, no marriage, no children. So were the terms of your relationship. A sacrifice he had asked you to make if you truly wanted to be with him. And you had made it out of love for him. But there was someone else, someone else you loved as deeply as you loved Leon if not more.

“So what do I do?” You asked, lost, using the pronoun ‘I’ because you truly felt on your own right now. “Fuck, I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t fucking know.”

3.    Bargaining

           But you eventually made a choice, one Leon never saw coming. And all he got was a letter; a simple piece of paper to explain the sacrifice you had decided to make. A letter not even truly addressed to him that made him realise that words could indeed hurt more than actions because, had he had the choice, he would have taken a thousand knives in the heart over those hundreds painful tearstained words.

                       “My dear baby,

           As I write this to you, you’re barely the size of a peach, taking a small place in my womb but already a big one in my heart in a way I never thought humanly possible. If someone had told me that one day I would love someone that intensely, that unconditionally to a point I would sacrifice everything for them, even my own life, I would have laughed to their face. But here you are, not even born and yet making me take a decision I never believed I would take. Giving up on the man I love.                    Yes, it’s going to be just the two of us from now on. Mother and child building a life together. Not the perfect family portrait but it will be ours and it will be full of love and tenderness. And I hope you’ll like it despite its flaws.                   I wish I had given you a dad but fate decided otherwise. He decided otherwise. But please, don’t hate him for that. Your dad is an incredible man. A man I love and will always love. A man that will always be a part of me whatever I do. A man that offered me the chance to be a mother. But he is not ready to make a room for you in his heart the way I did.                  I guess he would have under other circumstances but you don’t need to know them just yet. What you need to know is that your dad is a hero and that heroes sacrifice themselves. Always. Remember him that way. As a selfless man who chose the safety of the world – the world you live in - over his own happiness, because he’s done too much good for you or me to hate him.                        But don’t worry, my baby. While Daddy is making the world a safer place, I am here to make it a loving one.

           I love you,

           Your mum.”

That letter stayed on his coffee table for days, lying there for him to read again and again, next to a bottle of fine old whisky Leon would empty one glass after another, one regret after another, begging God –even though he did not believed in him – to bring you back to him.

There’s nothing worse than regrets, nothing worse than sitting alone with yourself and wait for sorrow to finally drown you, nothing worse than being lost in a maze of ‘what if’ and ‘if only’ and knowing that you cannot change anything.

What if he had made an effort? What if he had reacted otherwise and not like an ass? What if he had told you he loved you? What if he had said it would be okay? What if he had simply accepted this baby? How is life would be right now?

And he imagined it. He imagined himself at home with you in his arms, hand over your belly, feeling his child kicking and rolling under his palm. He imagined your smile, your soft giggles. Your happiness. And it crushed him. It crushed him because he wasn’t able to imagine anything else. He could not imagine the dark world he knew all too well. He could not imagine the fear or the pain he always thought he would feel in this situation.

And with regrets came guilt.

If only he had made and effort. If only he had reacted otherwise and not like an ass. If only he had told you he loved you. If only he had said it would be okay. If only he had accepted your baby. His life would be so much better right now.

4.    Depression

But you were gone and with you all his hopes of future happiness. You had taken everything from him, leaving him alone, in the dark and purposeless, wandering in his fancy apartment with a new bottle of liquor each evening.

Leon knew depression. But this depression, the one he was experiencing right now, was the worst he had ever experienced. Because if you were gone, it was not because of a bullet, it was not because of a bomb or a BOW. It was because of him. It was entirely his fault. And he couldn’t even change it.

You would not see him, not even talk to him, despite all the messages left on your voicemail or the letters in which he apologized and begged you to come back, telling you if was ready to change and that he was ready to welcome this baby if it meant you'd be together again. And it destroyed him.

He became a mess and he eventually did what he did best. He left, finding refuge in an isolated part of America, a lost cottage in the mountains to drink his sorrow away in peace, somewhere where no one would judge him or find him.

He was wrong about the last part. As one day, after weeks and weeks of radio silence and isolation, an old friend came to knock at his door to kick his ass back to where he belonged. Guess there was no escaping Claire Redfield.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? The Leon I know would never sit there powerlessly and accept his fate that easily.” Leon would have sent anyone packing after a sentence like that one. But Claire wasn’t just anyone. He listened to her. “You want Y/N back? Then quit your bullshit, Leon, and go find her.” “She doesn’t want to talk to me, Claire.” She scoffed, taking his glass of whisky away from him and throwing the liquid away. “So what? You’re gonna stay here for the rest of your miserable life, drinking and crying, and concede defeat? That doesn’t sound like you.” He accepted her scolding, admitting she was right but he had lost the strength to fight.       “I know it’s hard, Leon. I do.” Her tone was suddenly so soft and comforting. “I know what it is to lose someone you love as deeply as you love Y/N. But you can still fix it.”   “How? She pushed me out of her life. She even moved out. She doesn’t want me anymore.” Claire sighed. “How naïve you are. She loves you. She wants you back. She really does but she doesn’t want you to accept this baby just because you feel like you don’t have a choice. She wants you to want it, truly want it.”

There was a silence, a moment of introspection in which Leon felt the fear and the anxiety rushing in his veins again, knotting his stomach tightly. “I’m not ready, Claire. I’m scared.” Tears misted up his tired blue eyes. “ I know. And it’s normal. But there’s a girl in a hospital out there who’s about to give birth to your child and she needs you, now more than ever.”

5.    Acceptance

           His head was dizzy, his hands were clammy and his legs were trembling. As Leon was following the nurse in the neonatology wing of the maternity hospital, dressed in a hospital uniform, he wondered if it was the smell of disinfectant or the fright he was feeling growing inside of him that was making him want to puke right now. Perhaps a little bit of both.     “It’s this way.” The nurse opened a door and waved him to join her by a small incubator in the middle of the room, a sweet smile on her face.

But Leon froze, completely petrified. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. All he could do was watching at his five pounds of fear sleeping few steps away from him. “Someone’s here to see you, little angel. It’s your daddy.”         Daddy? The word made Leon tremble and small tears appear in his eyes, tears that instantly grew bigger when the small creature finally moved its tiny arms. “Many fathers are afraid when they come here. But I assure you there’s nothing to fear. Your baby is fragile but you won’t hurt her, I promise.” Leon’s blue eyes met briefly the nurse before fixing themselves upon the face of the little thing lying in the incubator. “A daughter?”  He had a daughter? He was the father of a little girl? This tiny angel in a pink beanie right there?   He approached her, instinctively, wanting so badly to see her from up close. She was so beautiful and yet so tiny.

“Would you like to hold her?” Leon nodded, without thinking twice about it and the nurse made him sit down and remove the top of his hospital uniform, informing him that it would be better for his daughter to feel his skin since it was warmer and more reassuring than any fabric.    

That first contact felt weird but Leon was certain of one thing, he had never hold anything so minuscule, light and fragile in his entire life. It scared him for a second, afraid she would break, but the instinct to protect her was stronger than anything else. “I’ll leave you two alone. If you need anything I’m not far.” Leon didn’t notice the nurse leave, mesmerized by that piece of him nestled in his arms right against his naked chest, watching her with wonder and awe, barely believing that he had made this … that you both had made this. “You’re so perfect.” He whispered as he dared caress her soft tender rosy cheek. His skin felt so rough against hers that she grimaced slightly. “So pure.”

Her hands were so little, just like her feet. Leon touched her fingers, still impressed by their size and shivered when they suddenly grabbed his index. “Wow, how strong you are, little princess.” He grinned, looking at her weak grip until he felt a pair of eyes staring at him.

They were dark and blue, soft innocent baby eyes scrutinizing him with astonishment, discovering his face and bonding with him in ways Leon had never thought possible. He could see the world in those blue eyes just as much as his daughter was discovering the world through his.   And he could feel love, strong and unconditional, a love he would never be able to feel for anyone else, he was sure of it. A fatherly love. One that would make him move mountains just for the sake of protecting his child. One that would make him give up his life for hers. How beautiful yet how scary.

And he cried tears of joy and guilt, happy to have her in his life and yet sorry that he hadn’t be there for her sorry. He had missed too much. First echography, first move, first kick, first cry. All that because of fear and stubbornness. And he felt awful because of it.          

A hand pressed gently on his shoulder. Leon turned around to see you standing next to him, a tired smile on your face. “Y/N”  You knelt by his side, softly caressing the head of your daughter who had fallen asleep in the strong arms of her father. “I’m sorry... I am so sorry. I should have been there for you.”             “ You’re here now. And that’s all that matters.”

Yes, he was here and he would remain here, by his daughter’s side and by yours, until his last breath. For first steps, first words, first birthday, first drawing, first day at school, first love, first heartbreak. He would forever be here for her and make the world a safer place for her. He had finally found a reason to keep fighting. And it was five pounds of pure love.    

Little (baby’s name) Claire Kennedy.

Making his life brighter despite five stages of fatherhood he would willingly go through again if it meant he could hold her in his arms forever.  

[vespertineflora]

Title: the day bleeds into nightfall

Rating: Teen+ Summary: When Wen Chao attacks the Unclean Realm, Meng Yao rushes to release Xue Yang, and Nie Mingjue catches him stabbing his general. Nie Mingjue might have thought he was doing Meng Yao a mercy when he banished him... but Meng Yao isn't sure he agrees. Or: the CQL-nieyao breakup from Meng Yao's POV. (2.5k, nieyao post-breakup angst)

The mood for this was HEAVILY inspired by Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi. It's such a nieyao post-breakup song that it hurts.

There's a dash of hopeful-xiyao at the end (bc meng yao is on his way to lxc to keep him in hiding from the wen sect), feel free to read it as romantic or platonic to your preference :)

~~~

Why hadn’t he just told the truth?

Meng Yao had half-limped down the long walkway to gates of Qinghe and beyond, hand clutched tightly to the front of his robes. He’d been so freshly stabbed that the injury was still bleeding, but he still couldn’t say for sure whether it was the gaping wound or the swiftly delivered banishment that was causing the sharp, persistent pain in his chest as each step he took left him further and further from the place he’d longed to call home.

From the person he’d longed to call...

But Nie Mingjue had made it clear that that was all over now. He’d been told to go, go anywhere that wasn’t Qinghe, Nie Mingjue didn’t care, Meng Yao just had to leave.

Meng Yao had managed to make it far enough away from the Unclean Realm that he could no longer see the walls or towers before he lost the grip on his tightly wound control. The tears streaked white hot down his cheeks, but Meng Yao gritted his teeth and kept walking because there was no sense in turning back. He knew Nie Mingjue better than most, and he was already sure that if he turned around and tried to go back, Nie Mingjue wouldn’t even open the gate to see him. Nie Mingjue had made his decision in that moment in the main hall, and Meng Yao had realized that arguing was useless... and besides, even for this, Meng Yao couldn’t bring himself to beg.

Not for death, and certainly not for forgiveness.

Why hadn’t he just told the fucking truth?

Continue reading on AO3 or below the cut

Maybe that was a stupid question to ask himself, because Meng Yao knew exactly why he had lied. He’d made his decision in the split second that Nie Mingjue had discovered him, he’d weighed the truth against the lie and knew Nie Mingjue would despise him for the truth; the lie would anger him too, but... Meng Yao saw the glimmer of a chance in the lie that he didn’t see in the future after telling Nie Mingjue his true intentions in going to the dungeons.

Wen Chao had shown up at their gates with a simple ultimatum; hand over Xue Yang or die. Nie Mingjue had made his own choice obvious the second he tossed Baxia in the direction of the Wen disciples, but Meng Yao...

It was Meng Yao’s responsibility to protect his sect leader, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it his duty to do anything he must to make sure his sect leader lived on? And in this case, the solution was as simple as handing Xue Yang over to Wen Chao. No one had to fight, no one had to die. Meng Yao saw no situation in which punishing Xue Yang for his crimes was more important than Nie Mingjue’s life; if they acquiesced enough to survive now, Xue Yang could always be punished later, but if Nie Mingjue and the rest of the Nie disciples were slaughtered by the Wen Sect...

But Nie Mingjue was too hung up on justice to care about practicality. He and the rest of the Nie Sect would gladly forfeit their lives just to prove to the Wen Sect their bravery and the strength of their principles--and, Meng Yao had become certain in the seconds after the first sword was swung, they would.

As soon as the fighting began, Meng Yao was absolutely sure that the Wens would slaughter every single disciple within the walls of the Unclean Realm, and even if the Nie sect somehow managed to triumph against the Wen Sect today... they would simply return with a greater army in order to finish the job in the weeks to come.

The future that would play out if the fighting continued was all too clear to Meng Yao--and it was just as clear what he had to do to save all of them, to save Nie Mingjue...

He had to release Xue Yang.

Meng Yao had hurried away from the gates, had hoped that in all the chaos he could get to Xue Yang’s cell undetected, hoped he could deliver him quickly to Wen Chao and end the fighting, spare all their lives, or at least those who were left as the fighting began to spread across the grounds of the Unclean Realm.

But of course, Meng Yao had never been lucky, and as he released Xue Yang from his cell, Nie disciples rushed over to stop both of them--Xue Yang attacked them, they attacked Meng Yao, and all Meng Yao knew was that he had to get Xue Yang to Wen Chao, had to get him to freedom, and if a few Nie disciples stood in the way of that, then Meng Yao had no choice because the few lives he took would pale in comparison to the lives the Wen Sect would take if their side didn’t forfeit. When that awful general had run at him, Meng Yao had seen him as little more trouble than all the rest, an obstacle in the way of him saving the Sect, but then--

Nie Mingjue had screamed his name. Meng Yao’s heart had sunk sickeningly, and the lies had spewed from his mouth before he could so much as second guess them, before he could even give them a thought--and then none of that mattered because a sword was coming for Nie Mingjue, and everything Meng Yao had done was to save Nie Mingjue’s life and his body moved before he even knew what he was doing, blocking that sword the only way he could in that moment.

Feeling Nie Mingjue catch him in his arms after taking the blow was the only sliver of hope in Meng Yao's eyes, when he was grasping for whatever straw of possibility there was in Nie Mingjue forgiving him, but even then, he wasn’t sure it would be enough to save him.

When Nie Mingjue had Huaisang drag him to the Sword Hall, Meng Yao’s only thoughts of punishment were those of execution; either he could convince Nie Mingjue that what he’d done had been out of some blinding sudden emotion, a desire to defend not just himself but his mother’s honor (things that Nie Mingjue might just understand) and be pardoned, or... he’d be killed. He had killed Nie Mingjue’s general right in front of him, after all. Execution seemed to be the only suitable punishment.

In the end, Meng Yao had chosen the lie because there was a fraction of a chance that Nie Mingjue would forgive him for a reaction to abuse that Nie Mingjue himself had once condemned; Nie Mingjue would never forgive him for releasing Xue Yang, for an act that he would only see as cowardice.

When it became obvious that the lie hadn’t worked... Meng Yao made peace with it. He’d accomplished what he’d set out to do, hadn’t he? Because of his actions, Nie Mingjue would live to fight another day, and if that meant Meng Yao had to die by Nie Mingjue’s hand... then so be it, but... Nie Mingjue had decided to banish him instead. He had made Meng Yao realize with a rush of nausea that there had been an option worse than death all along. The words spilled from Nie Mingjue's lips and Meng Yao felt his heart crumbling as despair washed over him like a flashflood, and it took everything in him just to keep himself together, to pull himself to his feet and stumble from the hall.

Maybe Meng Yao should have just told the truth. Maybe he should have told Nie Mingjue that he loved him, loved him more than he’d ever expected to love someone and that letting him forfeit his life over something as trivial as Xue Yang’s imprisonment was beyond what Meng Yao could allow. Maybe he should have told him that... that Meng Yao would have been crushed under unspeakable guilt to live on in a world where he’d done nothing to prevent the death of the first person besides his own mother to show him a scrap of decency and affection. He should have told him that he couldn’t just stand by and watch as Nie Mingjue and his entire legacy was slaughtered needlessly for the sake of some meaningless sense of justice.

In hindsight, it wasn’t like their confrontation could have gone any worse. Maybe if Meng Yao had told him the truth, Nie Mingjue would at least have given him the satisfaction of a swift death by his hand, but...

The thought that he might have told the truth, that he might have openly confessed his love to Nie Mingjue only to have been banished just the same... was too much for Meng Yao’s heart to handle.

So instead, Meng Yao traipsed onwards, heading south, because he might find purpose there, and purpose was all he had to hold onto. Purpose was the only thing keeping him going when his body would much rather collapse, when so much of him would much lather lay down and drown himself in his tears than continue walking further and further from the place that had been his home, from the people he’d hesitantly, hopefully, thought of as family...

As the sun fell lower in the sky, it turned the western sky into a blood red tone, before it finally slipped beneath the horizon and the dark velvet of the night sky took over. Meng Yao trudged onward until the point of exhaustion, until every step made his body issue a scream of protest, and until he ran across an inn that could take him in for the night.

Just the night before, he’d fallen asleep in Nie Mingjue’s bed. It had become part of their nightly ritual only a few short weeks ago, but already, Meng Yao had come to sleep better with Nie Mingjue than he’d ever slept on his own. Qinghe was so far north, so much colder than the climate he’d grown up with in Yunmeng, and for months and months Meng Yao had half-shivered himself to sleep each night, even the thick blankets only doing so much to stave off the frigid temperatures.

Sleeping beside Nie Mingjue had eliminated that problem entirely. Nie Mingjue’s body gave off heat like a furnace, warmed Meng Yao right down to the bone, and the very first night they’d actually curled up in Nie Mingjue’s bed after sending a notable amount of time indulging in each other, Meng Yao hadn’t even meant to do it, he just...  drifted off to sleep. It had only taken a few sparse minutes, and the night of sleep that followed was deeper and more restful than any that had come before it.

He’d woken up cradled in Nie Mingjue’s arms, stunned to be anywhere other than his own bed, with anyone other than himself. An immediate anxiety had threatened to climb up his throat for falling asleep in his sect leader’s bed after what had supposedly only been a physical exchange... until Nie Mingjue had curled in towards him and kissed him sweetly until there was no room left for Meng Yao to be embarrassed.

Every night since, after they had finished heatedly pressing their bodies together in whatever way they could manage, Nie Mingjue had pulled Meng Yao into his bed, pulled him beneath the covers and warped his arms around him in a very clear invitation to stay. Every morning, they had woken up together and spent a few precious minutes cuddling and kissing until they had to inevitably force themselves apart to begin on the day’s duties... But Meng Yao had never been happier than he’d been in those moments alone with Nie Mingjue, had never thought he’d share a bed with someone and feel such joy because of it, and most certainly had never thought that he might start to look forward to being held close every night and being kissed awake every morning.

The bed Meng Yao crawled into that night at the small inn he’d managed to find was so, so cold.

There was nothing here to distract him from the sharp ache deep in his chest, or the stab wound that throbbed along beside it. He couldn’t bury his face against Nie Mingjue’s neck as a reminder that he wasn’t entirely alone in this too big world, couldn’t stroke his fingers against his broad chest to convince himself that it was possible that there was someone who might actually care about him. Nie Mingjue’s strong and gentle hands weren’t here to pull their bodies so close together that it left no room for Meng Yao’s insecurities, weren’t here to numb the persistent pain of the loss and rejection that Meng Yao couldn’t manage to avoid facing down every single day of his miserable fucking life.

The only numbness was the one from the cold, biting at his nose, his fingers and toes, and acting as a steady reminder of just how alone he was, and how maybe it had been stupid to ever let his guard down long enough to let himself get so close to someone that had certainly been destined to reject him all along.

The pillow was wet beneath his face by the time he finally managed to slip into a fretful sleep that barely satisfied his need for rest.

Still, in the morning, Meng Yao pushed himself out of bed and left the inn, continuing southward because it was the only place he could even think of going.

The Cloud Recesses had been burned, Lan Xichen was on the run from the Wen Sect... and of course, Meng Yao couldn’t know for sure that Lan Xichen needed his help...

But if there was anything Meng Yao was good at, it was figuring out how he could make himself useful; if there was anyone he wanted to make himself useful to now, when his heart felt like it was at its most vulnerable... it was the man who had boldly spoken up for him in a room full of flying rumors, the man who had smiled at him as their hands brushed purposefully against each other, the man who had lavished him with praise and tried to treat him as a peer despite the world of difference between them. Lan Xichen was probably the only person left in the world that wouldn’t turn Meng Yao away, and that might actually be grateful for Meng Yao’s help.

Lan Xichen was the only other person that had seemed willing to treat Meng Yao as someone who deserved respect, and he was the only person Meng Yao could imagine feeing safe around now.

Meng Yao deeply wondered if he didn’t need this, this place where he he might be useful, this chance to save Lan Xichen and prove that his loyalty meant something to someone, more than anyone could need his help but...

If there was even a sliver of a chance that Lan Xichen needed him, then Meng Yao was going to make sure he was there.

[crybabysunflower]

The song which reminds me of a Mystic Messenger character

Introduction

I have chosen this song based on how I have perceived this certain character from the otome game. I have chosen this song because the lyrics reminded me of him every time I listened to the song.

The character I have chosen for my blog is Kim Yoosung and the song which reminds me of him is Zombie by the South Korean punk pop band Day6 from their 2020 album, The Book of Us: The Demon

Before I write this blog I would give a trigger warning because it may have mentions of having suicidal thoughts so please read at your own risk.

The Lyrics

"What kind of day was yesterday

Was there anything special

I'm trying to remember

But nothing comes to my mind"

The lyrics above represents hopelessness and pessimism, the lyrics describes how the singer can't recall anything remotely positive happened to him on the previous day, he has been so used to the misery he has been dealing with. This reminds me of how Rika's "death" had severely affected Yoosung's life to the point that his life had come to a standstill, after that incident he had been waking up to face the same monotonous, miserable days which repeats over and over. He did not experience anything positive enough to affect him since the loss of his beloved cousin.

"Today goes by the same

Am I the only one struggling

How do I get through this

Would things get better

If I cry my heart out"

The first line of the lyrics again brings back our focus to the monotonous nature of the singer's life, just like the singer Yoosung too leads a monotonous, colourless life. Just like the lyrics mentioned above, Yoosung feels that he is the only one who is still not over grieving over his cousin since the other RFA members in his perception are seemingly doing well and are succesful in their careers while he is stuck in the past and wasting away his life. He is desperate to get over the never ending pain he had been feeling since the tragic incident due to which he finds comfort in playing video games which helps him to drown his sorrows but unfortunately it turns into a serious addiction and it actually does more harm to him than doing good. The last two lines also depicts the singer's strong desire to get over the heartache and thus he wonders if crying out loud would make his agony subside. This reminds me of how just like the singer Yoosung too had desired to cry out his pain several times, but he knows that it is futile since the rest of his friends are eventually going to invalidate his feelings in some way or the other.

"Yeah we live a life

Just running in circles day and night

Yeah we live a life

Though I try to change something

I cant seem to do anything

And I have got nothing left with me"

As the lyrics mentioned above Yoosung lives a life where he is just running in circles, he wakes up, goes to school (and can't pay attention to his lessons), comes back home, plays video games for the entire remaining day, and the cycle repeats. However he tries his best to change his situation, he joins various clubs in his school, the stitching club, the barista club and many more but, he quickly ends up losing interest in them and quitting them since they barely help him to cope up with his crippling depression. Just like the lyrics mentioned above, he found nothing to permanently get rid of his heartache. The last line reminds me of the void his cousin and role model Rika had left. After Rika's absence, there was no one for him to look up to, there was no one whom he would love to impress by performing well and finally there was no one to give him the type of emotional closure which he desperately craves for.

"I feel like I became a Zombie

With an empty heart and empty head

A scarecrow without a brain inside

Since when did I end up like this oh why"

Zombie is a person's corpse which continues to haunt the earth even after the actual demise of the person. Just like a zombie, Yoosung had been dead inside. He isn't living up to his fullest like he used to under Rika's guidance before, he is just surviving for the sake of it. A scarecrow is a term which is also used for describing a person in ragged clothes. Usually a person in ragged clothes is either not able to take care of themself and/or is not bothered about taking care of themself. In Yoosung's case, its both. He plays video games most of the time barely letting himself get a wink of sleep, he also does not give himself proper meals on time and happens to survive on convenient store foods and this is all because of his crippling depression which makes him hardly care about his own well being. Since he had been dealing with depression for quite a while and it has been a pretty long time since Rika's "demise" he can't recall for how long he had been persistently melancholic.

"I became a Zombie

I walk on drifting aimlessly

Tomorrow will be no different

I live counting the time

Till I close my eyes"

Initially Yoosung aimed to be a vet due to Rika's influence for which he worked hard to earn the top position in his class during his highschool years and he even joined one of the reknowned universities in the country with full scholarship, until the sudden disappearance of his cousin from his life. After her absence he had lost all of his sense of direction and aim in his life, he was no longer motivated to do well enough to accomplish his dreams. He had stopped expecting anything different would happen to him on the next day and is waiting for everything to end. The last lines reminds me of him in the Another Story routes. There it was very obvious that he had extremely dark thoughts where he wished to put and end to his sufferings (and thats why Zen kept him under his watchful eye to prevent the younger man from doing anything dangerous).

"Yeah we live a life

Eyes wide open in the dark

This meaningless life

Though I want to just let go

Though I want to just dream on

There is nothing I can do anymore"

The line "eyes wide open in the dark" can be used in the situation both literally and metaphorically at the same time. In the literal sense it reminds me of Yoosung's messed up sleep schedule where he barely sleeps at night. In the metaphorical sense it depicts that he can't see anything ahead of himself, except darkness, his eyes are wide open to see any possible beam of hope which he could not find at that moment. His future plans are luxury for him. When he sees the other RFA members, such as Jumin, Jaehee and Zen who are successful he desires to become as succesful as them. But whenever he dreams, he has this persistent thought that he will never be as successful as them, no matter whatever he does. That tragic incident had not only left him with crippling depression but also had shattered his self esteem.

"Get it all out, wanna cry

Let go of everything

Can I cry

Give me back my tears, they have run dry"

The lines above again depicts the desparate need to get over the crippling depression which is consuming the singer like a black hole. From the previous descriptions here, it is clear that in a similar fashion, Yoosung too is desparate to get over his sufferings. This reminds me of that one time when he told that he wants to cry so hard that he would blank out. He had already cried several times while grieving over Rika, yet he isn't satisfied.

Miscellaneous

I had also made a fanart on Yoosung based on this song because I was heavily inspired by the illustrated music videos I have seen of this song

Conclusion

I had been planning to make a lyric blog which would be related to a Mystic Messenger character. I am sorry that this took a very long time to come out. The only alibi I have to justify why I took so much of time is that, I was extremely nervous about it, I wanted to write a very good blog but I was not feeling confident enough about my project and hence I was extremely nervous about writing this blog. I an very glad for having instagram user @emilytheredone help me write this blog, she helped me to ease my nervousness over writing this blog. I am very thankful to her. Therefore, please let me know if this blog has turned out to be good.

[swtltlmrvlgrl]

Night Strolls, Summer Breeze

Summary: This was inspired by the “In the Summer” MV by ARASHI (Listen to it you guys!!) Tony has been working nonstop, so Y/N decided to join him in his summer escapade. The other avengers join this summer escapade, including Steve, where they witnessed your weakness (the sea!). Steve, on the other hand, has been having a hard time expressing his feelings for Y/N, so he had to resort to other methods.

Warning/s: Seasickness, Fluff!

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader  

A/N: Y/N = Your Name

Number of Words:  1,949

Tony has been working nonstop in his laboratory for 6 weeks. It’s summertime and Pepper has been nagging him to go outside and go to the beach. 

“I’ll go if Y/N’s coming with me.” Tony finally responds to Pepper’s request.  You were caught off guard by Tony’s sudden comment, you shoot your head up and turn your head towards Tony's and Pepper’s direction. “I - uhm - I - ” you stuttered.

Pepper looks at you with pleading eyes.. Tony’s gaze,on the other hand, is intimidating and scary but beyond that, his eyes look tired and dull.  Tony really needs to rest.

“Sure, I’ll come with you.” you stated. 

“Yes!” Pepper rejoiced. “Thank you Y/N!” She starts running towards your direction and hugs you. “Don’t worry about the logistics. I’ll fix them all for you.” She takes her phone out to make some calls and walks out of the laboratory.

“Traitor.” Tony said after making sure that  Pepper is out of earshot. “ I thought you hated the beach!”

You grab the transparent tablet beside you, and hand it to Tony. 

“I do hate the beach, everything about it makes me uncomfortable. But, ” You added. “Seeing you overwork like this makes me more uncomfortable. Pepper is right Tony, you need rest.” 

Tony sighs and returns the tablet. “Fine.” He grabs his phone. “But I’m calling Steve.”

-----

“Are you okay?” Steve hands you a bottle of water. 

“Hmmm.” You respond and as much as you want to respond properly, moving even an inch of your muscle makes you more nauseous. Natasha sits next to you and hands you a wet towel. “You can lie down if you want Y/N” She suggested. 

You looked up and placed the towel on your face. “I’m fine.” You stretch your legs out and allowed it to rest on a small box that Steve placed in front of you. You position your body in a way that prevents the wet towel from sliding.

“You should’ve just stayed in the hotel.” Steve remarked.

“Yeah… I should’ve” You agreed. Staying in the hotel was the most practical thing to do especially with your seasickness. But you really wanted to look out for Tony; this was the least you could do after everything that he had done for you. You are his assistant afterall. 

“Why didn’t you tell us about your seasickness,Y/N?” You hear Tony’s voice coming from your right side. “Never mind.” He probably saw that you were too weak to reason out. “I’ll just call Pepper to cancel this island hopping.” 

Immediately after you hear the word “cancel” a rush of adrenaline flowed through you. You reach out for Tony’s hands. You sandwich his hands between yours and try to hold it as tight as you can. You shake your head in disapproval. “Fine.” Tony sighed and placed his phone in his pocket. You let go of his hand. He sits on the box where your legs are resting. “But promise me you’ll rest when we arrive on the island.” He gives  you a pat on the head and walks away. 

“Just call me when you need me Y/N.” Natasha also left and went after Tony.

You are trying to return to the position before Tony almost made the phone call to Pepper. And when you are about to place the towel on your face, you hear Steve clearing his throat.

“That position looks uncomfortable.” Steve commented.

Before you can even respond, he pulls you and with force of gravity and momentum (and his super soldier strength), your head falls on to Steve’s lap.“We still have 30 minutes to get to the next island. You should rest.”  You don’t have the strength to complain so you straighten your back and place your legs on the chair where Nat previously sat. 

The yacht suddenly makes a hard turn causing you to lose your balance, your hand moves to search for something that you can hold on to and you found yourself grabbing Steve’s arm. The sudden movement caught you off guard and your hands started to shake. Steve must’ve noticed the sudden contraction of your muscles. He moves his freehand, reaches for your hand and holds it gently. Your grip on Steve’s arm loosens and your muscles begin to relax under the warmth of the palm of his hand.

“I won’t let go.” He reassured you.

----- 

The smell of a freshly brewed coffee awakens your senses, it took a while before you can process the fact that you're laying on a soft bed covered in white sheets with your head resting on two pillows. You open your eyes and slowly sit up. 

“Took you long enough.” 

You turn your head towards the direction of the familiar voice. 

“Steve.” you said. 

“Y/N.” Steve responded. “I know you don’t drink coffee, but I’ll boil water for you for your tea. Chamomile, right?”

“I’m sorry for bothering like this.” You stand up f and walk towards Steve’s direction. You take the teabag and put it inside the teacup that Steve prepared. “I just wanted to help Mr. Stark, but here I am, being a nuisance to everyone’s supposed relaxation time.” You sighed and poured the hot water into the teacup. 

Steve took a sip from his cup of coffee. “Well.” He said. “I can’t speak for Tony or the others, but drinking coffee like this is at the top of my ‘relaxation activities’ list.”  He sits on the chair across the breakfast nook. ”And you’re not a nuisance, Y/N. If anything, you’re actually giving me a valid excuse to escape Tony’s, err, extroversion?”

You chuckle at Steve’s statement “Stop bad mouthing my employer.” The two of you laughed. 

“Do you think my extroverted boss is having fun?” You asked, still worried about Tony and how you ruined his supposed rest. Steve pulls his phone out of his pocket, swipes across it and a hologram of Tony’s bust appears and  started talking.

“Hey Steve. How’s Y/N? I know you’re Pentium 4 generation brain won’t be able to understand this but please relay this to Y/N. Thanks to this small vacation, I was able to think of a good idea to address the problem with the modular controls, I might need her to polish up the codes for the instrumentation and the wiring. I know she can easily execute it easily, so she doesn’t have to think about it so much. I also thought of a new invention idea, well not really ‘a’ cause I had like 10 ideas. Tell her to rest well cause I might need her help, I don’t need sleepyheads in my lab. Also,  there will be a meteor shower later at 12 midnight.” Your eyes lit, Tony knew your affinity for the stars, constellations and galaxy, you looked at the wall clock , it’s 11PM. “Pepper chose this island so she can get the best view. That’s it. P.S. Rogers, Don’t even think of doing anything to - ” Steve turned the message off. 

“I guess my extroverted billionaire playboy employer is fully rested.” You let out a sigh of relief. It feels good to see that kind of energy from Tony. He has been having a creative block for weeks and seeing him have a breakthrough during this time made the seasickness worth it. You can’t wait to hear about his ideas when you’re back in the laboratory.

“Thanks, Steve.” 

Steve smiled. “Now that Tony’s finally out of your mind, do you want to talk about…” Steve touches the nape of his neck and looks at you. You tilt your head in response, he looks away and looks at his cup of coffee, instead. Steve cleared his throat. “...your plans for the meteor shower?”

“Hmmm.” you pondered. “I’ll probably go outside after drinking this tea, and walk around the shore,feel the sand on my feet, I guess? How about you?”

“Good question.” Steve stretched his hands. “I’m actually planning to walk around with you.”

“Don’t you have any other plans?” You chuckled.

“If I had any, I would cancel all of them.” Steve whispered under his breath and took a sip of his coffee.

“Did you say something?” You asked.

“No.” He answered. “No, I didn’t.”

-----

When you were about to go outside, Steve stopped you.

“Wait. You’re going outside with those clothes?”

“Yes? I didn’t really pack for night strolls. I didn’t bring any jacket with me.”

“Here.” Steve took out his jacket from his duffle bag and handed it to you. “You can use this.”

“You’re my hero!” You teased.

“And you’re not funny. Just put the jacket on Y/N.” He retorted.

-----

You step outside the hotel and take a deep breath. “I’m not really a fan of beaches in the morning but this…” You allow yourself to drown in the sensation of the  cool breeze touching your skin, complemented by the calming sounds of the waves and the sea. You stretch your hands out. “I can get used to this.”

“Are you sure, you don’t have any plans for tonight?” You asked Steve again.

“Nope. I’m just going to keep an eye on yo-- my jacket.” 

The two of you arrived by the shore and you decided to take off your sandals and just feel the sand and the momentary wave of the sea touch the sole of your feet. Steve stretched his hand and held your sandals, “ I can carry this for you.” And you gladly obliged.

“You’ve been awfully quiet since we went outside. What’s up?” You asked.

“Nothing much.” He responded.

You ran forward and when you’re a few feet away from Steve you stopped,  turned back and shouted, “Steeeeve!”

“What?” Steve shouts back, his voice a little louder than the usual. Steve walked towards your direction

“Nothing. I just wanted to test out your super soldier senses.”

“What does that even mean?” Steve chuckles.

“It means.” You stop walking and Steve stops too. You search for his eyes in the midst of the darkness. “I’m your friend, Steve, even if you tell me a thousand times that nothing’s bothering you, I know there is.”

“Are you sure I’m the super soldier? Not you?” 

“It’s called women’s intuition. I don’t need a super soldier serum for that.”

“I miss moments like this.” You continued. “When was the last time we talked like this? Tony was busy but you’ve been pretty involved in a lot of things too.”

“Yeah... I was.” Steve paused. “I missed yo -- I mean, everyone in the avengers tower misses you. Bucky specially misses your unique recipes.”

You face the direction of the sea and look up. You marvel at the beauty of the star-ladden view. The reflection on the surface of the water make it more beautiful. Infinite. 

“Actually, Y/N...” Steve moves closer beside you. “I’ve been wanting to say this -” 

“Ah!” You beamed as you witness thousands or millions of meteors falling from the sky. You close your eyes to make a wish. “Make a wish too Steve!”

The gaps between your fingers are suddenly filled by Steve’s. It feels warm, but it’s a different type of warmth. It’s not like the warmth of Steve’s jacket that protect you from the cold night breeze. It’s not like the warmth of the first ray of sun that touches your face or the early morning tea that you drink every morning. 

It’s the type of warmth that you want to hold tight at night and to embrace in the morning. 

It’s the kind of warmth that you don't want to let go. Not now. Not ever. 

You squeeze Steve’s hands in response. 

“My wish...” Steve smiled. “It came true.” 

End!

A/N: It’s been so long since I wrote a one-shot story! Plus a song prompt! This is my first time setting my story in the Avengers universe. So what do you think? FEEDBACKS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!

Masterlist

[madlymiho]

Your inbox is open and I am here to fulfil my destiny and request a scenario for Zoro and his long term fem!s/o who has a thing for men in leather and asks him to wear it for her and get kinky and you know I am here for absolute sin 👀👅💦 (love you 💚)

Hehehe… Well, honestly, I seriously made a very dominant Zoro for this one! But you came for the absolute sin, right? 😏💚 Love you too! And I truly hope you will enjoy this nasty scenario ~

Inspiration for Zoro outfit, just here!

Words : 2990

Warning : NSFW

Zoro scenario : Leather pants (read after the cut)

“Seriously, this?” Zoro asks with his eyebrows furrowed. 

He grabs the leather pants with a powerful grip, creasing the material between his strong fingers. He can’t believe he actually has to dress like this for a sort of obscur and blurry mission he definitely not understand completely. She told him several days ago that she needed his help, but he didn’t sign for a sado-masochist outfit when he said yes! She sighs and puts her book aside, standing back up on her feet while she skirts the bed and comes closer. 

“Yes, this! We have a mission Zoro. You need to wear these pants,” she answers, crossing her arms around her chest while she digs her eyes in his concerned and unpleased look. 

“What kind of mission requires to wear leather pants and suspenders? I don’t want to look like a clown! Ask Sanji to dress like this if you want to have a submissive around, but not me!” 

She clearly fights her sudden deep need to mock him, his last sentence still echoing inside of her mind, but she manages to remain absolutely impassible, snatching the clothes out of his hands while she heavily sighs and starts to walk away.

“Fine! Let’s ask the cook to help me on this one, since mister muscles is turning into a diva!” 

“Hey, stay here,” Zoro snaps, gripping her wrist before she can walk away. 

She knows he tends not to appreciate when she mentions Sanji and his everlasting habit to turn himself into a docile servant for her. Zoro isn’t jealous, but when it comes to the cook… A part of him can’t help but be utterly possessive toward her. He angrily snatches the trousers and the suspenders back from her hands, and throws her a deadly stare while he walks to the bathroom, accepting his fate and this odd mission. 

***

“Okay, I’m ready, now.” Zoro states while he walks back into their shared bedroom, slightly unconfident and flustered about his outfit. 

She’s looking at herself through the mirror, putting some mascara on her eyelashes while she wears her favorite red and revealing dress, her face almost touching the cool surface, her gestures slow and mastered. She’s focus on her task, not wanting to soil her cheeks with some unwelcomed makeup, when Zoro makes another step in the room, visibly waiting for her reaction. Aware of her boyfriend silent request, she eventually puts down her mascara on the table, and spins on her hips so she can face him and give him a review, but what she sees at the moment is clearly unbelievable. Zoro looks like an erotic god coming out from another world. The pants are slightly too tight for him, and they shape his muscular thighs way too lustily, along with the impressive natural bulge of his arousal. His outlined abs trace a line down his belly, which end with a delicious V pointing at his manhood, perfectly enlightening his hours of hard training. The suspenders cover his nipples, suggesting to have a look on his chest too, and somehow, she can’t help but be captivated by this show. She closes her mouth, perhaps to prevent herself from drooling like a dog waiting for a pile of bones in front of the sexual beauty of her partner. 

“Zoro…,” she eventually whispers, making a step forward while her fingers start to skim his arm. “You look…,”

“Like a clown, I know.” Zoro snaps again, even if he clearly sees that it doesn’t seem to be her opinion. “You like it, Name?” 

He feels her hand gently coming up, tracing invisible lines of his bare torso, as she eventually looks at him in the eyes and gulps, drowning herself in his intense stare. He perfectly recognizes the look in her irises, almost desperate, as she finally smiles and takes a step backward, as if she tries her best to muffle her arousal. Yet, Zoro can’t help but feel the need to tease her.

“We should go,” she says as she clears her throat, pointing at the doorway with a motion of her head. “We’re going to be late.” 

“Oh, really?” Zoro answers with a low and deep voice, that particular one which makes her shiver on her feet, even deeper inside. 

She looks back at him, and Zoro understands that she’s now aware of her boyfriend’s mood, and his profound desires to spend some quality time with her before they would head to their mission. She shakes her head and smiles, somehow turning him down, but it’s not enough to stop him. 

“I’m still waiting for you review,” Zoro continues, moving forward as she keeps avoiding his body, until she actually collides with the desk, and grabs its corners with a desperate gesture. “You do like it, don’t you?” 

She pinches her lips together, her throat deeply dry, while she finally nods, confirming his words. Zoro smiles, her reaction directly awakening his already tickling crotch, before he catches her wrist and puts her fingers on his chest. He guides her silently, letting her digits fondling his chest, skimming his abs with slow gestures. During the whole time, she keeps looking at him in the eyes, feeling how much he desires her right now. 

“Don’t play, we don’t have time…,” she tries to argue, but she immediately stops talking when he lets her fingers brush the V of his belly, bringing her at the edge of his most intimate part. “Zoro…,” 

“Why are you in a hurry, suddenly? You’re always such a teaser, but now you shut your mouth and you want to run? I don’t deal well with runner, you know it…” 

He knows it’s unfair to tease her like this, but he clearly doesn’t want to stop. She’s not protesting either after all, and she doesn’t even try to take her hand away from his body, so Zoro decides that she needs to learn her lesson, since she wanted so bad to have him in these leather pants. Suddenly, he presses her palm on his crotch, making her feel his erect manhood, as his other hand starts to play with the strands of her hair falling around her face, until his thumb comes up on her face and plays with her lips, putting a soft but real pressure on them. He’s up to something passionate, and she feels it. The way he devours her with his eyes is revealing, and somehow, she knows that she can’t leave this room without paying the price of wanting him in this kind of outfit. 

“Open.” Zoro orders, his thumb making its way inside of her mouth. “Don’t make me wait anymore.” 

From time to time, Zoro’s natural dominance explodes like a firework, especially during their steamiest sessions. He loves to control their throes of passion, and most of time, she doesn’t complain. She can’t fight his stamina, nor his erotic aura when he’s so full of desires. So without thinking, she opens her mouth, letting his thumb playing with her tongue, while he flushes his body against her. He catches her jaw with a strong hand, almost violently but without any harm, squeezing her cheeks as he smirks and looks at her rolling her wet muscle around his finger. He presses his hard arousal against her core, pushing with his thigh so she can allow him some room between her legs, their two bodies completely glued together. He digs his finger even deeper, his eyes never leaving her irises, dominating her with all his suffocating aura. 

“What kind of naughty little girl are you when I’m wearing this?” Zoro purrs, lifting her head a little bit by putting more pressure on her jaw, forcing her to put herself on her tiptoes, until he removes his thumb from her mouth to roll up her dress and presses it on her panties. “Let’s find out how much you want it.” 

“Zoro…,” she calls in a warm sigh, feeling the sweet pressure of his digit right on her damp underwears. 

“Sssh, don’t even try to argue,” Zoro whispers, as his other digits put aside her panties to grant him a proper access to her wet core. “Mh, looks like I won my bet. I know you only wanting me in those pants to have my cock inside of you after.” 

She moans, desperately, unable to control herself as he gently rubs his thumb on her clit, his other fingers playing with her entrance, teasing her intensely. Zoro is clearly in his most dominant mood, and somehow, wearing leather only increases his needs to make her beg for him. She knows it, tonight, he’s going to be even wilder than usual. 

“So, Name… Do you like me outfit?” Zoro asks again, his finger terribly slow on her clit, his eyes looking for her every reaction on her face. 

She moves her hips to chase her own pleasure, but he suddenly plasters his hand on them, holding her still until she eventually answers the question. He smirks, his index and middle finger brushing her entrance, drops of her wet core dripping against her thigh lazily. 

“Yes…,” she eventually moans, looking at him with despair and passion. “Yes…I…I love it, Zoro…,” 

He presses his thumb harder on her clit, yet, his interrogation isn’t over. He knows there’s something else, and he wants her to spit it. He wants her to admit that he didn’t really need to wear this tonight, and that she only did that because she has a thing for men in leather. 

“Now be a good girl, and tell me if I really had to wear this tonight…,” Zoro smirks, one of his digit entering her as he sees her face changing into an expression full of pleasure. Yet, he doesn’t move anymore, waiting patiently. “If you tell me the truth, I swear, I’m going to take you so hard and good, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” 

Once again, Zoro is that erotic god she can’t handle sometimes. The way he touches her tonight is far from his usual habits ; he’s slow, he takes his time to build this poisonous tension, knowing perfectly how much she desires him. He always loves to rush things and gets started almost immediately, but for once… He controls his pace, only building a greater frustration within her so he can unleash his real power right after she would admit that she had something in mind with these clothes. 

“Alright… I saw this outfit a few weeks ago and… Yes…,” She argues, feeling his finger starting to move inside of her to encourage her. “Yes, you didn’t have… But I… I like this too much, please, Zoro, stop playing with me!” 

Zoro gently laughs with his deep and broken voice, as he suddenly crashes his mouth on hers, his tongue seeking for her own, while he immediately pushes another finger inside of her, his thumb circling her clit with a vivid pace. She starts to tremble under his ministrations, her hands now unbuckling his pants and pulling them slightly down, so she can release his massive arousal and touches him as well. Yet, Zoro doesn’t let her get what she wants, and before she can have a grip on his cock, he suddenly spins her hips, gripping her nape with a strong and dominant palm to hold her in her new position, as he pushes his hips forward to press them against her rear and lets his fingers continues their work on her body. 

“No, no, no…,” Zoro hums in her ear, opening her core with a third digit. “You don’t touch me, silly girl. I’m the one in charge here, and you get what I give. Naughty lying girl like you should learn her lesson now.” 

He lets lose his grip on her neck and immediately grabs the strap of his left suspender to take it off, expertidly rolling the leather around her wrists, as he holds her hands tied behind her back. She groans, her core now more than wet, squirting under his furious pace. She suddenly cries louder, and way before Zoro can’t stop her, he feels her swollen clit getting tensed, and her fingers being squeezed inside of her. He bites her neck while he helps her to ride her first orgasm out, still touching her, somehow proud of him to play with her like this. He gently licks her earlobe, removing his hand from her sensitive area to grab his manhood and guide the head to her entrance, not even taking the time to pull down his pants entirely. He pulls on her wrists with his other hand, and uses his feet to bring her legs closer, ordering her to squeeze her thighs together while he rubs his arousal on her excited entrance. 

“I’m going to fuck you until you forget your name,” Zoro snarls, feeling her impatience, her body reacting delicious to his rubbing cock. “My girl who loves leather pants…,”

He plays with the suspenders restraining her wrists, sometimes drawing them towards him, adjusting his position as he suddenly slams his hips forward and enters her fully in one powerful motion, overwhelmed by the narrowness of her sweet slit. She gasps, her core deliciously tight and wet for him, before he moves his hips backwards, his cock entirely pulls out, before he thrusts back again. For a moment, he keeps doing this, mastering his pace but also his grip on her restrained arms, before he begins to pound harder, deeper, and faster. The slap of his leather pants starts to fill the room with lusty noises, along with their flesh colliding anytime he thrusts inside of her. She’s a real mess. She groans, and moans, and more than once, she even tries to open her legs a bit more, or to have some control on her body position, but Zoro makes sure that she can’t make a single movement, his cock buried in the depths of her sweet cave. He knows that he has enough stamina to make her sing for a long time, so gently, he releases her wrists after a moment, allowing her to grip the table before he pulls his cock out of her core, and spins her hips so she can face him. Once he has a proper vision on her messy face, Zoro kisses her sloppily, his tongue and teeth clenching with hers. He puts his hands behind her thigh and helps her sitting at the edge of the desk, shoving his cock back inside of her with a powerful thrust. She grips his one and only suspender, pulling on it to bring him even closer, her breathing erratic, as she parts her lips to catch some air. He loves her features, at the moment. Her gorgeous complexion, her swollen and redder lips, inviting him to have another kiss on them. Yet, Zoro prefers to dig his mouth in the crook of her neck, sucking harshly on her sensitive spot to leave purple and yellow marks, his hips moving fast and steadily, as his hand grabs her rear to adjust their position. He skims her body with his free fingers, until he comes up and brushes her lips, his head following his gestures, while he faces her again. 

“Good girl,” Zoro growls, taking her with sharp and powerful thrusts. “I want you to come for me again,” he slides his thumb against her lips, her tongue already licking the tip of his nail. “Suck it, and you’ll have it.” 

Immediately, she opens her mouth to let her tongue plays with Zoro’s thumb, while he growls harder, his pace becoming slightly erratic and uncontrollable. He digs his fingernails in her rear, his thumb deepening in her mouth, until he pulls it out and presses it between her spreaded legs, right on her swollen and already soiled nub. She rolls an arm around his neck as he starts to massage her down there, her mouth begging for a kiss. He’s more than willing to offer her, and when he begins to kiss her again, he increases his pace with both of his thumb and his hips, creating waves of shivers on her body, while she arches her back even more, moaning hard inside his mouth. He smirks, feeling deeply powerful at this particular moment, circling her nub until she eventually bursts into a deep growl, her inner walls squeezing his cock, as she reaches the Seventh Heaven for the second time. He parts his lips, looking at her blushed features and her lusty stare, pulling his cock out, his orgasm coming. He strokes himself a few times before he loads on her belly, covering her skin but also her dress with his seed, growling like a dangerous beast, catching his breath back when he’s finally done. 

“You really had to destroy my dress…,” she angrily whispers, her fingers caressing his sweating chest. 

Zoro doesn’t even try to hide his content, catching her wrist to put a kiss on the red marks caused by the leather. He knows he has been slightly harsher than usual, but he’s far from apologizing. He leaves a few kisses on her arm, coming up until he pulls on her neck skin with his teeth.

“I’ll buy you another one,” Zoro comments, his lips coming up to brush hers with slow and tender gestures. 

“You don’t have any money, loser…,” she pouts, looking at him in the eyes, yet somehow amused by the way he teases her. 

“I just need to sell these leather pants, and I’ll have some,” Zoro smirks, looking at her eyes suddenly looking down and watching at his pants and his exposed arousal. “What?” 

“Mmh.” 

Zoro raises an eyebrow, and she finally lets loose a long and fake sigh, shaking her head. 

“Don’t sell them, okay…,” 

Zoro laughs softly with his usual deep and broken voice, slamming his palm on her rear, his fingers digging in her soft skin as he comes closer. 

“Oh, I won’t.” 

[puppywritings]

torn

pairing: lee jeno x male reader x na jaemin word count: 2534 description: when you, a new trainee at sm entertainment, capture the interest of both jeno and jaemin, you find yourself torn between them. requested by: anonymous masterlist

First and foremost, the reason you moved to Korea and auditioned for SM Entertainment was to follow your dreams; to sing and dance, as you had always loved to, and to bring joy to as many people as possible through art. When you received the news of your acceptance, the things weighing on your mind mainly consisted of excitement to improve and learn, and anxiety about the pressures of being a trainee. However, there was something else tugging at your heart, excitement and anxiety all rolled into one: the prospect that you would likely bump into the members of NCT.

NCT were your favourite musicians, your role models. You had been following them since their debut, and you wouldn’t dispute the notion that you were their number one fan. In particular, the Dream unit had caught your eye from the beginning, due in part to the fact that you were around the same age as the members. You had, to put it lightly, completely fallen in love with the group. They were your main inspiration for moving to Korea and pursuing a career as an idol, and you could hardly fathom the idea that you would be training and working in the very same building as them.

Of course, you worked hard to stop them from consuming your thoughts entirely. You had more significant things to busy your mind with; working on your vocals, taking care of your body, getting to know your fellow trainees. In fact, you were so preoccupied in your training that you sometimes went a whole day without thinking about the members of NCT. Wondering how far away they were, whether they were just a few rooms away, whether they had passed in the corridor and heard you singing, whether you might see them in the cafeteria later. You knew you would become very busy, but you never could’ve predicted these levels of intensity. You were definitely up to the challenge, though. The mental and physical stimulation left you shining, and you could feel yourself grow.

Though you felt wonderful, to an outside eye it would certainly look like you were pushing yourself too hard. You stayed in the practice room for hours after everybody else had left, and most days you were the first to arrive too. Dancing alone as the clock crawled towards midnight, it was only natural that you would gather a little bit of attention from people passing through. Inevitable though it may have been, you weren’t any less shocked when you spun around mid-practice to find that somebody had stepped inside the room. The fact that the figure was none other than Lee Jeno only intensified your bewilderment.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised with wide eyes. “I knocked but you didn’t hear me.”

“Right,” you panted, your eyes darting around the room. “The music... it was loud.” You were already sweating from the exertion but you felt it had increased tenfold. Jeno was here. In the same room as you. Speaking to you. He had seen you dance. 

“What are you doing here so late?” he asked you, a slight frown on his lips. You were unsure whether to read this as curiosity or concern, but you tried not to dwell on it. You’d had the biggest crush on Jeno for years, and at this point in your career, you didn’t need it to intensify and interfere with your training.

You cleared your throat, hoping he couldn’t sense your anxiety. And, beyond that, hoping your appearance wasn’t too sweaty and unappealing. You pointedly avoided turning to the mirror behind you; you didn’t need your self-consciousness to rise. “I just wanted to get some extra practice,” you explained.

“I don’t think you need it,” Jeno told you sincerely. “You’re doing really good. I was watching you for a while... I hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh! Um. No, that’s okay.” Every ounce of your energy went into preventing yourself from exploding on the spot. You knew that your cheeks must be burning - you could hardly even believe you were in this situation. “My name is Y/N, by the way.”

He walked forwards, extending his hand which you shook gently, almost flinching at the thought of him having to make contact with your sweat-coated palms. “Jeno,” he returned.

“I know,” you responded instantly, before cursing yourself. Was that a creepy thing to say? You really hoped you hadn’t made anything awkward.

Jeno only chuckled. “Right.” Daring to look up at his face, you saw his signature smile and crinkled eyes. You could’ve melted on the spot. He continued to speak, saving you from forcing out a response. You were thankful - you genuinely didn’t think you could utter a word. Lee Jeno was less than a foot away from you. “You should go home and rest soon,” he advised you. “Exhaustion won’t do you any good.”

You nodded, your heart swelling. Jeno didn’t even know you, yet he spoke with such care. That was just his nature, you knew. He had immense kindness within his heart. 

“I’ll see you around,” he said with a smile before departing. You waved, which was all you could manage. As soon as you heard his footsteps retreat, you collapsed against the wall, sinking down to the floor. That was far too much excitement for your heart.

-

The following morning, as had become routine at that point, you were present in the practice room long before any of your fellow trainees. Most of them were currently either rousing from their sleep or tucking into their breakfasts. You, on the other hand, had risen whilst it was still dark outside, and had abandoned breakfast in favour of a speedier option; a protein shake and a granola bar.

You were yet to begin your actual practice yet, and were still performing some stretches when you heard a knock on the door. As you turned, the door was being pushed open, and you were surprised to find that Jeno had paid you a second visit.

“Jeno!” you exclaimed, your heart beginning to pound right away. “Hi.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted you with the smile that had never failed to melt your heart. “I had a feeling you’d be here early.”

“Oh yeah?” You gave him a wobbly smile, trying not to give away the way your mind raced at the implication that he’d been thinking about you.

He confirmed with a nod. “You seem like the type to overwork yourself.” If he weren’t Lee Jeno, you would’ve rolled your eyes at this. “Anyways,” he continued, “I have a spare frappucino if you want one.” He lifted the tray of drinks in his hand.

"Oh! Sure.” Jeno had bought you a frappucino. Was your life even real at this point? No, you tried to rationalise. He just happened to have a spare one, and you just happened to be there. He probably would’ve given it to the first person he saw. 

Jeno took a seat on the floor, placing the tray down in front of him and taking out one of the drinks. As he slurped his drink loudly, he motioned for you to join him. Breaking out of your trance, you quickly complied.

“So, what’re you doing here so early?” you tried to make conversation. You were immensely thankful that he had arrived before you had the chance to get all sweaty and gross. You’d hate Jeno’s only impression of you to be dirty and tired.

“I have some things I’m working on,” he answered vaguely, leaving you wondering about all of the possibilities. Though you were incredibly busy, you were still keeping yourself up to date on NCT’s activities. Jeno went on with a frown, “I was supposed to be meeting Jaemin, but he hasn’t shown up.”

You accepted his answer with a nod. “Thanks for the drink.” You were incredibly grateful. Though the nearest Starbucks was just around the corner, you couldn’t say you frequented it, merely because it was so much more convenient to visit the cafeteria in the building.

You were startled suddenly, almost jumping out of your skin when the door flung open and a voice called out, “Hey! We were supposed to meet fifteen minutes ago!” Looking up, you saw Jaemin stood before you, and you hoped to death nobody had heard the squeak you emitted.

“Oh,” Jaemin spoke seconds later, directed towards you rather than Jeno this time. “I didn’t see you there. I’m Jaemin.”

“This is Y/N,” Jeno spoke before you could. “I just stopped by to see him before we met. I must’ve lost track of time.” With the earnest look in his eyes, you didn’t know if it was possible for anybody to be annoyed at him.

“Hi,” you smiled nervously at Jaemin. Starstruck as you were upon being introduced to Jaemin, thoughts still ran through your head. Jeno had lied, right? He had told you Jaemin hadn’t shown up, yet he was the only who had missed their meeting time - and he had done so to spend time with you.

“You gave him my Starbucks?” grumbled Jaemin, looking betrayed. Jeno simply shrugged in response, completely void of regret.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised quickly, feeling rather panicked. “I didn’t know it was yours. I can pay you back for it, if you want me to?”

Jaemin dismissed your offer with a wave of his hand. He turned to you with a smile, rather different from the irritated demeanour he carried just moments previously. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind buying drinks for cute boys.”

Your choking splutters at this sudden compliment was drowned out by Jeno’s defensive “You never buy me drinks!” and you were incredibly thankful. They bickered for a few moments before Jeno turned to you.

“I guess I’d better go, Y/N,” he told you with a sigh. He extended his arm, patting your knee twice before standing.

“I’ll see you around, Y/N,” Jaemin waved. “It was nice meeting you.”

“You too,” you returned weakly as the boys departed together.

Surely you were imagining things. Surely Jeno and Jaemin hadn’t just been flirting with you. You threw yourself into your practice. If you let your mind remain idle, you knew you would get stuck in these thoughts, which definitely wouldn’t do you any good.

***

You did your very best to ignore the attention that the other trainees threw your way in the following weeks. It was understandable, you had to admit. The quiet, rather withdrawn trainee who doesn’t seem to do very much other than work, suddenly seemed to be friends with Jeno and Jaemin, two members of one of Korea’s most popular idol groups. You were bombarded with questions: When did you become friends with them, how did you guys get so close, what on earth is going on between the three of you? Honestly, you wish you had the answers.

Everything had happened so fast. After your initial meetings with the boys, you found yourself running into them quite frequently, and it rarely felt like a coincidence. Soon enough you had exchanged numbers with them, you were eating lunch with them most days, and even spent time with them at their dorm. It was thrilling, especially at the beginning of your friendship with the boys. You began to grow less starstruck as you got to know the boys and grew more comfortable around them, though. 

One thing you had noted was that you seldom seemed to spend time with only one of them. If you made plans with Jaemin, you would happen to run into Jeno while you were out. If you made plans with Jeno, you happened to get a message from Jaemin, asking to make plans at the exact same time. One thing you were consistent with was relentlessly pushing away fantasies that tried to run riot in your mind. Of course, it was utterly ridiculous that Jeno and Jaemin were both crushing on you, and were fighting for your affections. It was difficult to quell these thoughts, though, as this seemed to be exactly what was happening.

***

It had taken a lot of persuasive effort on Jeno and Jaemin’s part before you agreed to spend the night at Jeno and Jaemin’s dorm. Not only were you incredibly busy, but you were also sick of the other trainees pointing and whispering. You theorised that they had noticed the heart eyes that the two boys were constantly sending your way. It was growing difficult to miss. You still enjoyed their company, though. It went without saying that you were crushing on them both.

The night wouldn’t be anything special, just a casual night. You would watch some movies, and eat takeout. Nonetheless, your excitement had been increasing all throughout the day while you anticipated it. This feeling remained all the way into the evening, when you were sat between Jeno and Jaemin, nestled under a blanket. Jaemin had chosen the movie. A horror film, one you hadn’t seen before. You had to admit, you were being rather brave.

“Just hold my hand if you get scared, Y/N,” Jaemin advised you, puffing his chest.

“Or you could hold my hand,” Jeno offered. “I’ve been told I have very nice hands.”

Jaemin shook his head. “I’m sure he’d rather hold my hand.”

“I don’t know,” Jeno rebutted. “I think he’d enjoy holding my hand.”

“Well-”

“Listen,” you interrupted with a sigh, “There’s something going on here. Right?” You weren’t met with a response, only sheepish looks from both Jaemin and Jeno. You put your head in your hands with a groan. “Can we just talk about this?” Your voice was muffled.

“We both really like you, Y/N,” Jaemin spoke, and you lifted your head.

“I figured,” you mumbled with a nod. “You don’t have to act like children, though. I’m not a toy. You can’t fight over me like this.”

“You’re right,” Jeno sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Jaemin apologised.

The three of you sat in silence for a few moments, while you built yourself up to speak. “I like you both too. I’m not going to choose between you or anything. I like it when it’s the three of us, and I don’t want to sacrifice the bond we all have.”

“So, we just pretend this conversation never happened?” Jaemin suggested.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I don’t want to. Like I said, I really like you both.”

Jaemin shook his head. “I don’t know where we can go from here, Y/N.”

“I don’t know if any of us can really have a relationship right now,” Jeno spoke up. “Because of our careers.”

“Then maybe we just see where things go,” you proposed. “No labels. Just the three of us, hanging out.”

There was quiet while the boys considered your words. “That sounds okay to me,” Jeno agreed, while Jaemin nodded alongside him.

“Great,” you beamed. You turned to your left, pressing a kiss to Jeno’s cheek, before going to your right and kissing Jaemin’s temple. “Now, can we finish the movie? I need to see how it ends.” Jeno hit the play button, and Jaemin took hold of your hand. You were feeling pretty damn lucky.

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/55126891

Chapter 6:

Nick started from his sleep, with the panic still pulsing through his veins. He had that disgusting smell of blood in his nose and the feeling that his hands were greasy. Rubbing them agains each other he made sure that they were dry,  but he still couldn’t fight the feeling that it was all very real. Pressing his hands against his forehead he listened to the maniac laughter that echoed in his mind and it made him very sick.

Joy. He needed his Joy now.

Seconds later he sat on his bed, all cramped and motionless and just waiting for the moment he got better. Joy helped him to sort his mind, but now it gave way to many more questions.

When he realized he was lying in his own bed again he wondered how he had been carried all this way back and forth. He wasn’t even sure if he actually walked all the way himself. His head was still foggy at that part. All he could remember was falling asleep at some point, after who knows how many hours of shaking in pain and crying in fear. 

Finally, he struggled to stand up and halfway out he found a piece of paper on his bed. That also happened with increasing regularity.

My dear Nick,

please forgive me the unpleasantness you had to endure during withdrawal. I hope you’ve learned your lesson, because I don’t want to be forced to use this method on you again.

Get well soon.

Yours

James

Nick felt like something hit him hard in the stomach. He let go of the note and it floated down on the ground while he realized what a shameful procedure it had been. And it could happen again if he didn’t get his shit together. But he kept failing. It seemed like all his efforts were to no avail. 

Devastated, he let his head sink into his hands and drowned in his thoughts, trying to fight the memories that feared and puzzled him. James came much closer to him than Nick had expected and he knew so much about him. He had found him, even though Nick hadn’t told him where he lived now. And he had carried him away and back again somehow. How many others worked for him? In fact, even if Nick knew the truth about James he wouldn’t have the chance to refuse him. He would find him.

Rubbing his eyes and turning his head Nick saw that his guitar was also lying in his bed and he asked himself what a show he had put on when he was high. One more glance and he saw the state of the entire room. It was basically nothing new, he thought while he walked around, eyeing the chaos. But that had been the whole point of moving here, right? If Virgil saw this…

Now Nick wondered how he could’ve been so foolish to believe it would help in some way. To believe that even Arthur could help him to get his shit together again. He shook his head in embarrassment and started to clean up, something he almost never did, but he also never had to hide the evidence before. Even though he probably chased Arthur away already, by revealing his true self and made sure that the other man never wanted to see him again. That was just how it turned out with everyone he met. They found out who he really was and fled him in horror, or disgust, or both. 

Nick stopped cleaning up because his view became too blurry to see anything. He let himself fall on the couch, shaking and sobbing. Why did he even bother? It always turned out the same way. Perhaps he would be better of dead.  At least an electrocution would’ve been a fast and painless ending. If only he wasn’t too coward to do it himself…

Arthur instead wasn’t sure why he returned to this living disaster once again. But he had a guess. Since he didn’t forget anything so easily anymore, he now was able to think about everything and everyone every time. Not quite a good feeling to get used to. Probably no one could imagine that it took him a lot of effort not to run into the next mood booth and say goodbye to all his worries. Maybe his Joy-free brain completely over-exaggerated everything, but especially Nick was sure to put himself in danger. Arthur told himself that he didn’t have to stay for a long time though, he could only peek in and vanish again. 

He came closer to Nick’s place and noticed that it was all silent. He hoped that was a good sign. But then he found Nick sunken down on the couch, similar to how he had seen him before in his house. This time however it was worse, Arthur noticed and froze hesitantly. He had been so quiet again that Nick didn’t hear him at all and he could see that he was shaken by uncontrollable sobs. Completely overwhelmed, he asked himself if he should stay and risk to turn this into an awkward situation or if he should leave and pretend he hadn’t seen any of this? But what if Nick was having a bad trip and was about to hurt himself? 

„Uh…Nick?“, he said not very wittily.

Nick looked up to him, with his reddened and shining wet eyes, like he was some kind of manifestation.

„Arthur“, he whispered in surprise. His voice was husky. Then he quickly turned his head and wiped away his tears.

„You’re still here…“

„Yes, uh…you weren’t there yesterday and I … just wanted to see if you’re ok. If you want some time alone I understand…“ 

„No, stay!“ Nick reached out for him, then he seemed to get second thoughts and sunk back down. 

„I can’t stand myself alone right now…“ 

Arthur walked closer and sat next to him on the couch, still unsure how he could even help him. 

„What’s wrong?“, he simply asked.

Nick sobbed again and spread his arms in a helpless gesture.

„I can’t do this anymore…Nick Lightbearer…that’s over. I’m out of energy and my head’s full of shit and I can’t stand myself anymore…“ 

He was interrupted by another sobbing fit while Arthur racked his brains to find something that could cheer him up.

„Don’t you still enjoy writing songs?“, he tried.

„Oh, Arthur, you sweet innocent flower, you! In the old days I did, yes! But now…it’s so much more…complicated…every song has to be the one…the one that brings me back…I just can’t keep this up anymore.“ 

Arthur looked around the place and got an idea of what was blocking him. All these golden records and trophies everywhere…as if he had produced nothing but smash hits. Perhaps he even did at the beginning, before it wore him out. 

„And if you imagined it to be like the old days? If you tried to forget the past for a moment?“

„Forget?“, Nick laughed bitterly. „No, it’s exactly like you said. I can’t forget some things, I can only forget all at once. And when I’m sober, my head is completely empty! I’m out of ideas! It’s over!“

Nick wrapped his arms around him and sobbed even more.

Arthur wondered if it could be just another whim of Nick, to be grieving deeply and it would be gone some time later. Still, he felt the urge to put his hand on the other man’s shoulder. He finally obeyed it, and soon he felt the soft cloth of Nick’s bright red jacket for the second time. But now Nick was awake. Arthur could feel him tremble, and the warmth that radiated from him. 

Nick felt the sudden touch and it sent a shiver down his spine. He turned his gaze to see if it was really Arthur who stroked his shoulder since he always seemed so unapproachable. It felt good to be close to him and it had been a long time since someone had given him this sort of attention. Even after everything he did, even though Arthur had all the right to abandon him he was still here and gave him a chance. Finally, his feelings took over him and he curled his fingers into Arthurs tight black suit and pulled the man closer, crying into his expensive cloth.

Arthur, who had been overwhelmed by this whole situation already, now froze completely and he needed some time to process what happened until he brought himself to pat the other man’s back. He was so close to Nick that he could now smell a fruity scent on him. A rather odd perfume, he thought. 

„You came here, because you hoped that it would change something,“ Arthur whispered into their silence.

Nick slightly loosened the grip and the other man was glad about it because his arms had started to hurt. Nick also straightened himself and backed away a few inches. Finally, he nodded.

„Damn naive I was…“, he muttered quietly.

Arthur put his hand back on Nick’s shoulder and gently squeezed it. The other man had to prevent himself from pressing his cheek against the warm hand.

„I don’t think it’s a bad idea,“ Arthur heard himself say and was immediately puzzled. Some minutes ago he still thought it was a horrible idea, too much of a risk and drawing attention. What was Nick doing with him, making him say such absurd things? 

Also Nick looked very surprised. And hopeful, as if he was hanging on Arthur’s every word. Just like when they first met. Arthur knew by now that there was something about him that made people set their trust onto him. They didn’t know how much he could disappoint them.

„It helps to change place…perhaps you should also…go outside? Undercover, I mean…and just…observe the town…maybe not too close though…but superficial…perhaps you even find something that inspires you?“

„Undercover?“. Nick winced. „That’s impossible! Everyone knows my face. I can’t walk on the streets anymore.“ He sighted deeply and bowed his head.

„But there must be something that inspired you,“ Arthur insisted, not willing to give up yet.

Nick seemed to ponder over it and his face started to lighten up a bit.

„Yes…Arthur, you’re right,“ he whispered. „I always had an inspiration, I simply forgot…“ 

The other man was glad that he had managed to say something helpful.

„And you think this works again?“, Nick asked him with an insecure tone and gave him this pleading look. 

„Well..why not trying it out? It’s a start after all…, i’d be surprised if you, of all people, can’t find back to your old shape,“ Arthur answered and, without thinking too much, gave him a playful punch against his shoulder.

Nick felt the impulse from Arthur’s fist and he liked how it ran through his body. 

„Thanks, Arthur,“ he sighted and came closer to him, looking at the folds he had left on the other man’s suit. „Thanks for staying here and listening to me…“ He lifted one hand and began to stroke Arthur’s shoulder and Arthur felt that the atmosphere was changing somehow and his heart started racing.

„Perhaps I’m not doing everything wrong…“ Nick purred and looked right into the beautiful brown eyes of the taller man before he made a decision.

Arthur watched him leaning forward and coming dangerously close to his face, before he jumped off the couch and took a few steps backwards.

„No hard feelings,“ he heard himself stutter for whatever reason and ran out of the room.

[ppastel-pinkk]

the less i know the better

genre: angst, with a fluffy ending I guess?

warnings: irresponsible drinking if that makes sense, unedited writing jshdjdh I sort of having this idea and type then post it right away

pairings: Tom x Reader

note: this is a random writing, a little bit inspired from the song by Tame Impala with the same title, was listening to it while working and sort of get this idea and HAD to write it down somehow :)) messily written because I’m at work and had to stop a few times because I need to do some paper works and I’m kinda bad at writing in English.. but still I hope you enjoy!

—

“She just left with Haz.”

His eyes darted towards the front door, and to his surprise, he really met the sight of you in your favorite blue jacket walking hand-in-hand with his best friend, Harrison. He spat the remaining drink in his mouth, spaced out in disbelief.

“Man, I thought she was your girl?”

“I thought so, too.” He gulped the last sip in his bottle before continuing, sour. “Turned out I was wrong.”

Jacob leaned on the bar table as he tried to prevent him from ordering more booze. He’s already on his second bottle for the night—first when he saw her sitting together with Harrison for probably about an hour or so, exchanging glances and laughter. The second one, he just chugged it empty, mercilessly.

It’s slowly coming back to him, how both of you had been so close for the past few weeks. How you started to notice him in your Spanish class, putting up with his antics and ambitious demeanor. How you told him that wearing glasses in class is actually a graceful sight and your words caused him a sleepless night— the one where he couldn’t stop smiling ear to ear until the sun came.

He looked outside the window of the bar, eyes fixated on the bench under the tree where you and him used to study for exams together. Him secretly watching a leaf fell to your silky hair ever so gracefully, it made him felt like in a movie. Made him smile ear to ear even when it’s way past a month since he first saw that sight.

Both of you were so close—almost too close to be true. He’d been your date to every parties you almost refused to go to, and you’re his date to his every movie night. He took you to your new favorite place—an old bookstore by the end of the streets near his apartment. He’s down to your every tea time invites, even though he prefers coffee than your strawberry tea. You’ve been to his room and alas, now he couldn’t look at his own blankets like how he used to. It surprisingly still had your scent in it, and he could see it torturing him for the next four months, maybe more.

You let him hold your hand while walking. He welcomed you to his embrace when you’re feeling low. You both almost kissed by the end of your latest movie night, all that hope he got just to see you move it with Harrison.

“Is it possible that she just...”

“Being friendly to you so she can get it with Haz?” Jacob took down Tom’s hand that were calling for the bartender. “That is cruel... but still possible.”

“Hey, more shots please!” He shouted to the bartender.

“Enough, Tom, you’ve drank enough.”

“Who cares,” he plopped down on the table. He couldn’t feel his energy running through his body anymore. He’s tired of drowning into the pain, looking back to the memories he had with you that now left a sour taste in his mouth.

The bartender put the drink in front of him, but somehow he couldn’t make himself to drink it. Pictures of you came running fast in his head, along with all the things he thought was supposed to happen. He’d seen it in you, all the gleams in your eyes whenever you look at him, how much you cared about him more than anyone else. How your sight never leave his figure even when you both are far away from each other. How your lips almost slipped the L word almost every single time. He has seen hopes in you, sadly it wasn’t the one that comes true.

Looking back at it, now he knows why you were keep asking about Harrison for the past few days. Where he came from, his house, even his parents’ names. That sudden curiosity triggered the alarm on his head but Tom refused to hear it. He has fallen too deep, and he wish he wasn’t.

And he kind of regretted his decision to bring you to this party, trying to introduce you to his world—part of it was to introduce you to his best friend. Turned out you both going too well, even far too deep into conversations and laughter that slowly make Tom felt out of place. He felt betrayed, seeing you walking out of the bar with his best friend. And he doesn’t want to imagine what you did with him while you were out of his sight.

Pictures of you having it with Harrison, how you both made it your night and simply throwing his existence out of the window, kept coming back to his head that he decided to take one shot in. He heard Jacob’s warning almost too faintly, maybe even too tired to care.

Oh, the less he knows the better.

-

Tom wasn’t really sure how many shots he took that now he’s lying almost helplessly on his own bed. The comfort of his blanket sent sudden wave of realisation as the last time he remembered being sober was when he was lost in his thoughts at the bar. Jacob's effort to get him back to reality had failed miserably, as he chugged more alcohol into his system. His head was pounding hard and he felt nauseous all the time, surrounded himself with regrets for not trying hard enough to sober up. He got up to take a bucket that Jacob usually left him on the side of his bed, but he only find a warm soup and tablets of aspirin on his bedside table. A note with such neat handwriting was placed just between the two.

You were a mess. Eat this to feel better.

He squinted his eyes to enhance his blurry vision, figuring out who might’ve left that there. It’s clearly not Jacob’s handwriting because his looks a lot like toddler’s scribbles than an actual handwriting. He studied them hard enough that the headache is starting to came back, so he quickly gulped down the aspirin with a glass of water nearby. As he drank, his mind keeps sending him back to the picture of him and you studying Spanish under the tree. You scribbling down a note for him to study, with such a beautiful handwriting that he kept in his drawer just to make him go to sleep happily. He was shocked once again, could it be you who wrote this note for him?

Quickly his hands pulled the drawer to take that small piece of paper and compare the two in front of his face. It was indeed your handwriting.

He was confused. Thought she left with Haz? I must be dreaming, right? He pinched himself, and-ouch! It hurts, so that means he’s fully awake.

He was about to exited the room, maybe trying to find some evidence of you coming to his small flat when he heard your crisp laugh. It used to sound like a symphony to him, until it was replaced with siren after what you did to him at the bar. Bet Haz were also here to laugh at me being a complete mess, he thought to himself.

His hand turned the knob and slowly opened the door, surprisingly found you sitting on the couch with Jacob in a friendly distance. You looked so cozy and the dim lights from his fireplace gave you a warm light, send flutters to his stomach. You and Jacob were having a small talk, not noticing his presence until he sort of lost his balance and almost fell to the side. Lucky for him that there’s a table just beside him, so that wasn’t too embarrassing—but it did shock you and Jacob.

“You’re awake, Tommy boy?”

He nodded as Jacob rushed to his side and trying to help him sit on the couch. Both Tom and you were now sitting side by side, he looked at you with such an awkward glance and you’re still with your warm, loving eyes he always adore. He almost feel like fainting again when he looked at you.

“Well,” Jacob stood up from his spot on the sofa. “I’ll leave you two alone so you can have the talk.”

He left with a suspicious grin on his face, not even care the slightest about Tom’s panicking gaze. Now that hungover guy has no option than to sit with you, maybe for a couple minutes. He’d called it a night and pretend to go to sleep later so he wouldn’t have to face you or anything you wanted to talk about.

“Feeling better, Tom?”

He nodded while scratching the back of his head. “Not good but definitely not terrible.”

“Glad to hear that. You were a mess last night.”

“Yeah, your note told me about that.”

“So you’ve read them?”

He nodded in silence, letting out a worn out sigh. He planned to leave maybe a minute or so-just for you not to feel bad about his reaction upon meeting you, but his curiosity got the best of him. Questions kept popping up in his head as he looked at your presence on his living room. Why is she here? Wasn’t she with Haz last night? What happened? What’s the talk that Jacob’s been teasing about?

“Is there anything you wanted to ask me?”

“Whoa—how do you know?”

“You’ve been staring at me like a lost kid, mate.”

Even when you pointed out that obvious behavior, he still stared blankly at your eyes. Get lost in your gaze that he used to love, or simply get drowned into his pool of questions. But then, the more he dives in to the depth of your eyes, the more it hurts. 

“Why are you here?”

You sighed. “You were wasted, Tom. The moment I got back to the bar, you were yelling like an old, grumpy hag. Jacob was having a hard time with dealing with you on his own so I helped him. Haz even drove you back here, but he couldn’t stay since he had to go to Greece this morning. He’s sorry that he couldn’t be around, tho.”

“Wait, you went back to the bar? Thought you were leaving with Haz?”

“No, of course I wouldn’t! Why would I leave my date on the bar? Gosh, I should’ve told you that we were—”

Her date? he thought. Did she just call me her date after having the courage to ditch me like that?

Tom didn’t hear the rest of your long explanation. his head was too far clouded with anger and it made him feel even more dizzy. He stopped you midway through your explanation, manage to spit out words.

“Knock it off. I know you’re in love with Haz. You’re befriending me just to get with him, right?”

“Excuse me, what?”

He sighed deeply, fingers starting to massage his temple as his headache is getting even worse. “I knew it, I saw how you suddenly get so curious about him, how you immediately stick to him as soon as you both get along. Leaving me out of the picture. I shouldn’t hoped too much, but to be honest, it sucks.”

“No, oh my God. Tom,” you scooted over to Tom that had his head hung low, reached for his hands and squeezed it gently. “I just found out that your best friend is my cousin. How can I be in love with my own cousin?”

“W—what?”

Her cousin, he thought to himself. He should’ve known better—the chemistry, all the connection you had with Harrison, the curiosity, it’s not at all romantic. They were simply a cousin! He should’ve known this instead of being a total dumb-ass. Tom could clearly see you holding back that laughter as he felt warmth filling his cheeks. Pretty sure they turned into bright red right now, that you couldn’t resist the small giggles. He was flustered, wish he could just disappear into thin air right now.

“Yeah, remember when I told you I have a long-lost aunt? Turned out Harrison was her son. That’s why I asked you his parents’ name the other day. We went out for some fresh air to talk about this and for an emotional hug, I’m afraid that it’d be weird if we did it in front of you and Jacob. We did some catching up and talk about stuffs... that’s why it took a little long.”

“Oh gosh I feel awful... I’m sorry I don’t—”

“No, don’t say sorry. I must be the one apologizing for not making it clear that’s it’s you whom I fell in love with. It’s not like I’m being nice to you so I could get close to Haz, gosh, no. That is such a nasty thing to do.”

“Wait... did you just say you...”

“Yes, dumb-ass. I love you. Wasn’t it obvious tho? The way I was comfortable with you around, and my converted gaze every time you looked me in the eyes for more than five seconds. How my cheeks were burning every time I see you laugh-or maybe we both are being too caught up with our own feelings to notice the love that is in the air.”

His eyes darted to where your hands were, on top of his very own hands. He looked closely at the way your fingers were squeezing his hand, not to tight but enough to reassure him that everything you said was true. That whatever you said was something that flowed naturally from the bottom of your heart. You’re being absolutely honest and that was enough for him to close the gap between both of you and let your lips met.

He kissed you softly, without hesitation that was clouding his mind up until a few seconds ago. He smiled into the kiss and his happiness roamed around both of you, was pretty obvious for you to feel it as he was kinda hoping it would be. Both of you parted, and now his hands were the ones squeezing yours warmly.

“So are we dating now?”

You chuckled. “Yes, we are.”

“But one more question,” he scooted over so that he could lean his back on your chest, letting you envelope him with a warm hug. “Did Jacob knew about this? I noticed he was mentioning about the talk?”

“Sort of, because you told me everything beforehand—while not being sober at all.” You laughed. “You told me everything on the bar when you got wasted. Then I asked Jacob for further explanation. That’s why he knew about this talk, he even asked me to do that since I told him how I feel exactly.”

Tom’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t imagine how much of an embarrassment he was in front of the love of his life whom he not yet confessed to. He could feel the blood in his cheeks are boiling, pretty sure his cheeks are now reddening madly. That reaction gained a few more chuckles from you, as you were gently caressing his hair.

“That must be so embarrassing...”

“Nah it’s fine. That lead us to this, we should be thankful instead.”

“You’re right, love.”

Tom grabbed your hand that was starting to messing up with his hair, kissed the palm softly before holding it tight. He felt dumb for mistaken your actions as taking him for granted, but he was a bit relieved that with the help of his stupid reactions, it was resolved to an even better relationship he could ever wished for. And now, as he was resting his head on your lap peacefully, he knew that he learned something important today.

The more you know the better. Always.