#Though I had it spelled differently in the document | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lacollectionneuse1967 · 5 months

Text

slip of the tongue

Theseus Scamander x Reader

The word left your mouth before you could process it, “Daddy.” He froze completely, locking eyes with you. You couldn’t read the expression on his face.

summary: you're a personal assistant at the british aurors office. you accidentally call your boss, theseus scamander, "daddy."

fem!reader. theseus scamander x reader.

category: smut with plot

warnings: 18+ smut, ddlg themes, (light) mdom/femsub dynamics, (light) size difference kink, unprotected penetration

It was mid-November. London was dark by four in the afternoon and you were out of the Ministry by five, pulling your trench coat around you and shouldering your way out into the stone streets and coal black skies. It wasn’t bitingly cold yet, but you kept your arms tucked close to your body regardless. Dipping in and out of the indistinct crowds, moving with purpose.

You had about fifteen stacks of classified documents on you, but they were safely magicked away into the lining of your coat, and they weighed nothing. Magic almost always weighed nothing, cost nothing.

For you, at least.

“A natural.” “The brightest witch of her year!”

That’s what they’d called you at Hogwarts. Even your closest friends in [your House] eventually grew bitter and irritable, so you had to feign stress before exams and pretend to practice your spells alongside them in the common room, in a display of camaraderie.

The truth was you didn’t need to practice, or study. Ever.

You were muggle-born, everything in your life before Hogwarts had been so difficult to bear, your parents’ death, the streets of East London, the orphanage. Even talking to other people, simple conversation, bore some inexplicable strain for you.

But magic had come as easy as breathing. Your wand was like a limb, an extension of your body, you didn’t even have to reach for magic, it just sprung forth, dancing into the world.

You wanted to be an Auror since you were fifteen. You were good at magic, and little else, and you were curious, had a talent for dueling and abhorred those who took advantage of the weak. It seemed a natural path.

You were hired straight out of graduation. You were only meant to work as an Administrative Assistant at the Ministry of Magic for a few months. But that was nearly a year ago…

In truth, you’d already been offered a position as an Auror. You turned it down discreetly. Theseus Scamander, Head of the British Auror Office, was the man you’d been assigned to as an assistant. He was the figure you answered to, and you’d been his sole, personal secretary.

Before you loved him, you liked him, but even then you could recognize that you liked him too much for what was appropriate to feel for your boss. He was nothing like you in that he was maddeningly easy to become fond of. He was funny and charming, kind and handsome. Sarcastic and a bit of a straight edge. You glowed in his praise.

Every “Excellent work, Y/N” or “Y/N, you’re a lifesaver,” or casual introduction beginning with “This is my genius assistant-” swelled inside of you with happiness. Once he’d even, absent-mindedly and only half-looking up from his copy of The Daily Prophet, said “Good girl,” and you’d nearly fainted.

The first time he hugged you, after some successful project of yours, he’d braced his arms around you and spun you around, and you’d gone wide-eyed and stiff. He set you down in a flourish.

You were terrified your reaction would put him off touching you forever, but he only laughed aloud, the sound like bells in the wind.

“Not scared of the death threats we receive from dark wizards but you’re scared of a little hug from your boss?”

Your heart seized, though you returned his laugh in relief. If he only knew what you were really scared of.

“Try it again,” you smiled and met his gaze defiantly. “I’ll do better this time, I promise.”

It always seemed to shock and delight him in equal parts, the way you responded to him. You liked to challenge him, and to make him smile just to see it spread across his face.

When Theseus hugged you the second time it was him who hesitated at the feel of your warm body pressing into his, his large hands hovered in mid-air before resting delicately on your upper back.

When you were hired he was still engaged to Leta Lestrange, as he was when you turned down the promotion you were offered. Pathetically, being his assistant was the closest you could get to him. You weren’t about to walk away from that, walk away from him. Between late-night talks at the office and laughter-filled afternoon teatimes at his house, he’d become something like a friend. You couldn’t have him, but this was enough to sustain you. You weren’t her, but you knew you meant something to him…

When you entered his dark apartment, slipping the key out from under the welcome mat, it was no warmer than the outside world. Barren and cold as death, no signs of life. You whisked your wand out and spelled on the lights, spelled the documents free and they fell heavily from your coat, thunking unceremoniously on the hardwood floor.

Since he broke up with Leta, Theseus hadn’t been home, that was clear from the state of his place. He had hardly been at the office. You covered for him without even having to think about it, without even blinking you spewed out excuses and deftly dismissed the Aurors who came to call on him.

You didn’t think about what that meant about your loyalty, to the Ministry and to him.

"Y/N," he’d prefaced in a letter, an owl sent to your house. "I trust you with my life. Not in theory, but in practice: with this letter you hold my life in your hands. You’re my assistant, but you’ve also become my closest and most cherished friend."

He’d mentioned Grindelwald, going behind the Ministry's back, “choosing sides,” and that he was with his younger brother, Newt. He told you to tell the Ministry he was on business if they asked, to make up something about a dark wizard lead in Romania. And he mentioned that he would need you to make copies of some confidential documents from the archives for him. He asked you to set them aside "but not in my office. Not safe. Bring them to my apartment. Key under the mat. I’ll be in touch soon. I owe you."

And so here you were. Still in your work clothes, a navy blue pencil skirt and chiffon blouse, black tights and your [hair color] hair pressed into loose finger waves, your heels scattered somewhere across his floor. You were organizing the documents into piles.

He’d requested the strangest things, all top secret, in the most restricted section of the Ministry Archives. Old maps and travelogs pertaining to sightings of some ancient creature with certain prophetic or spiritual abilities. Topographical maps of Bhutan and Austria. Classified research on dark magical objects that bound promises in blood.

It made you feel like you were in school again, made your head spin.

Wishing always hurt for you, coming from your background, you hardly let yourself indulge in it. But right now you wished he would’ve told you more. You wished, more sharply and painfully, that he was here.

In the middle of organizing the endless piles of parchment you began to drift off. The words on paper began to cross and blur in your vision. You didn’t want to disturb his apartment or his things, so you hadn’t put on the fireplace. Cold and tired you padded to his empty room.

Just a little rest before I finish up here. You thought to yourself. Just going to rest my eyes.

You crawled under his crisp bed sheets and your eyes pricked at the overwhelming smell of him. If you didn’t allow yourself to miss him before this, you couldn’t help it now. You’d never been in his room before, you thought distantly, fatigue already claiming you, dragging you down into a black sleep.

-------

You weren’t cold anymore. Someone had put the fireplace on. You became aware of this before you heard him.

“Y/N,” Theseus’s voice was rough and low and sweet. It must've been past midnight. He was dressed in a suit still, bending over the bed, his eyes tender and tired. “Did you fall asleep, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. You stirred. That word undid something in you. Unfettered any tension or stress you’d been holding in your body since he’d been gone.

“Theseus,” you muttered, still half-sleep. Your eyes were swollen, you would’ve been mortified, but he was here, at last, and he was looking at you with a gentle smile, so affectionate.

“M’sorry, the documents—I fell asleep-"

“It’s okay,” he chuckled. He dragged a hand over his face and stood. You felt guilty for stealing his bed, you didn't know where he'd been, but he looked positively wrecked. “Rest. I’ll wake you in the morning.”

He turned to leave, presumably for the couch. You reached out for him, any part of him, and your hand caught the waistline of his pants, a finger hooked there.

He looked down at the offending hand and raised a brow.

You were half dreaming, his arrival was so unexpected, so surreal. Your face felt hot, something like fever.

"Mm, don't go," you mumbled. And then, the word left your mouth before you could process it, “Daddy.”

He froze completely, locking eyes with you. You couldn’t read the expression on his face. You were suddenly terrifyingly awake.

You clapped a hand over your face, mortified, and rolled over in his bed so that the pillow concealed your face. Consciousness seeped in gradually and with every sober second you were swallowed by dread.

“Oh,” you said stupidly. “Oh god, I have to leave. I'm sorry, I was sleeping, I don't know why I said that."

You stood as clumsily as a drunkard, taking half his sheets to the floor with you. Your hair was a mess and your skirt had hiked up nearly around your waist, revealing your black panties through your sheer tights.

“Oh god,” you said again. You couldn’t look at him. You began to fix your skirt and pat down your hair when he stepped forward, eyes dark, hand gripped around your wrist.

You startled, confused. But he looked the opposite, an absolute calm washed over his face.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he said.

“What? I don’t understand.”

“Coming home to you in my bed,” he let out a sharp breath, something like a stifled groan. “You have no idea what I wanted to do to you.”

Your stomach fluttered. You searched his face for any signs of confusion. He looked tired, a little undone, but more himself than ever.

“I don’t understand,” you didn't know why you felt on the brink of tears, when this is all you’d wanted all along. “You… you want me? But you were engaged, you…”

The look in his eyes was blazing and still, fire in water. It was enough to silence you.

“I want you. I ended things with her because I couldn’t live with it, wanting you. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, not at your job, and I’m sorry to bother you with it now, but it can��t be helped. You can leave if you want, things can go back to normal. Me, wanting you, and you knowing nothing about it.”

He seemed to return to himself now, he sounded like the Theseus you knew. Poised, sure of himself. Mercifully kind. But his chest was heaving and the desire, plain on his face, was enough to make your knees buckle.

He wants me. He wants me. With each beat of your heart you felt the truth of it swell inside you. You could see it, unmistakable, the look of want that mirrored your own. Ready to worship and renounce and claim.

“I don’t wanna leave,” you admitted, weakly. When he spoke again his words were terse, strained.

“Get back in bed,” is all he could manage, and then, “And call me that again.”

And for the first time since you’d known him, you defied him.

Like the possessed, you fell into him, kissing him. He stumbled back in surprise, catching you with his hands crowded around your face. And you were both kissing and grabbing at each other, you fell to your knees and he followed you down.

You couldn't stop kissing him, not even to regain your balance, to catch your breath. He tasted so good, and his mouth on yours would've been enough to sustain you forever. The two of you were so desperate with need, you were half-kneeling on the floor.

You began to whine in protest when he pulled away at last, but he stood and pulled you up from under your arms. When he threw you back onto his bed, your stomach flipped. He was looking down at you, pulling off his shoes and jacket, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves. With him looking at you like that, you would've let him do anything to you, anything at all.

“Sweetheart, I said,” he pulled off his dress shirt and your head went dizzy at the sight of his bare chest, his shoulders and arms. “Get back in bed.”

His voice was stern, but fond. You knew what he wanted immediately, and it thrilled you to give it to him.

“Yes, daddy.”

You could see him struggling to control his expression, he just bowed his head back and pinched his eyes shut. The corner of his mouth twitched.

The knowledge that it was you doing this to him, driving him crazy, turning him on, heightened your arousal. Submitting to him strangely felt like power in your hands.

“Good girl,” he said at last.

He was in his boxers now. The shape of his dick through the thin cloth made your mouth water. You wanted to press your open mouth against it there, wanted to pull it out and kiss it. You don’t know what had come over you. You couldn't think straight.

He got into bed beside you.

“Come and sit in my lap.”

Your body purred and thrummed in delight. This is all you’d ever wanted at the office, to drape yourself over and onto him like this.

You crawled over him and sat firmly in his lap, legs splayed around his thick thighs. His hands came up around your waist, sliding further up to your chest. He looked up at you unblinkingly, eyes hooded and reverent, but his fingers moved of their own accord, unbuttoning your shirt.

You reddened, suddenly self-conscious. “Wait, don’t-“

“Don't?” he raised an eyebrow. “What, you want me to stop?”

He made a tutting noise and continued to remove your shirt, you had to look away when he flung it across the room, you were so embarrassed. He had your bra off in seconds.

“So cute. So shy.” he said dotingly, but his actions were anything but cute, massaging and running the rough pads of his thumbs over your nipples over and over again in circles.

You moaned without meaning to, and the sound embarrassed you further. You felt him grow even bigger beneath you, between your legs.

“No, you don’t want me to stop.” He sounded so cocky you wanted to tell him off, but you couldn't, not with him playing with you like this. You could only moan weakly beneath his hands.

Your hips began grinding against the outline of his cock. It was so big your entire body thrilled at the feel of him, at the ludicrous idea of fitting it inside of you.

He seemed determined to humiliate you, he kept talking you through it.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Can you feel how hard I am?”

“Yes,” you answered, breathless.

“Tell me what you want. How you want me.”

“Inside me, please.”

“Please, who?”

You were so frustrated you could've cried. You wanted to come so bad, your legs were trembling. Up and down grinding and rubbing wasn't enough when you knew he wanted to be inside of you, that you could've had him inside of you.

“Please, daddy," You cried, feeling broken.

Theseus pushed you back onto the bed roughly and crawled over you, reaching down to hike your skirt even further up your midsection. You were already topless, but he gripped into your tights with both arms flexing and ripped them apart at the seam.

You gasped and instinctually tried to cover up, bringing your legs together, but he was already pushing your panties down past your ankles, and then his broad hands were covering your kneecaps, pushing them apart.

“No, no, don’t do that. You’re mine," He reprimanded.

It felt so vulgar, him seeing this part of you. But you were only half a person now. You needed Theseus inside of you to be complete, you were dumb with want. A whining, needy mess and he couldn't get enough of you.

Tears stained your cheeks.

“Please, pleaseplease-" You started to beg, but he silenced you with his mouth on yours, wet and warm and perfect. When he shushed you this time it was surprisingly caring, he caressed your face reassuringly.

“Okay, baby. It’s okay, I’m not trying to tease you, hold on.”

When he pulled out his length, your mouth went dry. You instinctually spread your legs wider. It was big, bigger than you thought. Both thick and long.

He reached a hand down between your legs to find wetness. Your back arched, your whole body curled and keened in pleasure against his hand, his touch.

But when he pushed a single finger at your entrance it met resistance. You moaned in pain and contentment when it finally slid in fully, past the knuckle.

“Ah,” he said with a grunt. “You can barely fit my finger, baby. You’re so tight.” He said this in equal parts admiration and lament.

“No!” you whined. “Please, please, I can take it-“

Theseus shushed you and kissed your forehead.

“I know you can, pretty girl. I don’t wanna hurt you, though.”

“I want you to. Please, please.”

He hissed something like fuck under his breath and began to add more fingers, a second and, then, absurdly, a third. You already felt like you were being split in half. He could barely move them, but soon enough he was pumping them deep and slow, in and out, and the act was so lewd you wanted to cry again.

“Fuck, that’s tight," he said to himself again. “Christ, Y/N, you’re gonna kill me.”

When he removed his hand you wanted to cry out at the loss, but then he was moving his body up, his hands clasped around the inside of your knees and he spread your legs up and open and wide, just for him.

When he sank down into you, his dick was so big and hard that your eyes bulged and your mouth opened pathetically.

“Oh,” you said, stupefied.

Then he pushed in and in, endlessly, until he bottomed out. You were already throbbing around him, so overstimulated from before, coming and fluttering around his cock before he’d even fucked you properly.

“Oh!” you exclaimed again, throwing your head back against the pillow and bringing the back of your hand to your mouth to bite, hoping to stifle the moan as your orgasm washed over you hard. Waves of pleasure ran from the crown of your head all the way down your legs, you could see it coming from a mile away but were nonetheless overcome, completely.

He made a small noise at the sensation of you tightening and pulsing around him and ripped your hand away from your mouth.

“I wanna hear you,” he ordered, and so you let him. It was almost an out-of-body experience, the way he materialized in front of you, inside of you, when you finally came back down to earth, blood roaring in your ears.

“I just stuck it in, and you already came?” His tone was dark and teasing. “That’s all it takes, darling?”

He leaned over and kissed you deeply, passionately, and then straightened your legs and threw them over one of his shoulders, bending you in half. He began to fuck you in earnest, fucked you limp. You really felt like a rag doll now, helplessly pinned beneath his weight, his hips pounding into your backside. He drilled into you, growing impossibly harder by the second, it was almost like being filled for the first time all over again.

You couldn't stop moaning, he kept telling you how good you were doing, how you were almost there. Kept asking you questions that made you blush, making you answer them.

Every thrust of his hips was pure ecstasy, vibrating shocks of pleasure were sent straight to your core, your whole pussy throbbing with it. He was fucking you and it was the best thing you’d ever felt, you never imagined sex could be this good.

You felt his dick stretching you wider and wider when he said, “Where do you want me to come?”

You didn't even think. The word preceded any thought.

“Inside. Please, please-"

“Fuck.”

The feel of him shooting into you, hot and warm and pulsing, sent you tumbling into another orgasm, it hit you so hard your vision went white and spotty. You had the impression your whole body was vibrating with the force of it.

He rolled your sweat-slick bodies over so that he was cradling you, holding you. You could feel his heartbeat, feel the air rushing in and out of his ribcage. He held you for a few minutes before finally relenting and pulling out with a hiss.

“You’re so perfect,” he panted, pressing a kiss to your temple, your chin, your neck.

You felt overwhelmed with emotion. Overstimulated. Completely at his mercy.

“I love you,” you said. Powerless. All your life you had clung to power, whatever power you could cling to and not be kicked off like a dog. But for him alone you allowed yourself to be weak.

Utterly and devastatingly weak.

You always imagined him saying it to you, first, but the thought barely had the chance to dampen your soaring heart because then he said, “I love you more. I promise you, whatever love you have for me, Y/N, I'll always have more for you.”

-----

He cleaned you up and gave you some of his clothes to change into. Soft and oversized, you were almost drowning in them. He changed into his own pajamas, changed the bedsheets and threw the old ones on the floor. Gave you a toothbrush to use and soon you were both cozy and tucked back in his bed.

“I wanted to do that from the first time I saw you," He admitted. “Even though I was your boss, and your friend, and I was a taken man at the time. It made me feel ashamed, sick with myself. How badly I desired you.”

Hearing Theseus say these words was like a dream, or something you wouldn’t even dare to dream.

“Are you staying here for good now? Or are you leaving me again?” You asked.

“You’re coming with me. With us.” He said in a way that was so sure and simple, it made you feel safe. Made you forget about the Ministry, and the world falling apart. “We need your help. And besides, I've missed you.”

-----

part two here

A/N: woohoo first fic ever! let me know if you have any requests or if you'd like a part two. right now i am only writing for theseus and no one else.

#theseus scamander #theseus x reader #theseus scamander x reader #theseus smut #theseus scamander fic #theseus scamander smut #fantastic beasts #callum turner #hp fanfic

2K notes · View notes

a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 1 month

Text

Home

Pairing: Captain John Price x f!reader

Warnings: smut mdni (18+) it fades to black sorry, established relationship, fluff

Words: 3.4k

Synopsis: You and Price are on leave together...

You are currently reader chapter 1 of Duty Over Heart

October 2023

You were deep into a book when your phone buzzed beside you. It took you only a moment to break out of the spell of your book before you were fully immersed back into the living room of Price’s apartment. You had settled yourself in the corner of the couch, getting cozy against the plush fabric to the point where you had to read a book to keep yourself from dozing off into a nap.

When you picked up your phone you saw that it was Price. You didn’t hesitate to shut your book and answer it, a smile already pulling at your lips.

“Why are you calling me?” You teased, your smile growing wider when you heard him chuckle.

“I missed your voice.” Price said and you rolled your eyes.

“You’ve only been gone for three hours.”

“I’d say that’s long enough after being around you for a week.”

You hummed as if you were trying to sound disinterested but you knew he didn’t buy it. You did have to admit that you were starting to miss him even though he hadn’t been gone for nearly as long as the many times you two had been apart. You tried to be unbothered when he had to go back to base for something right after being put on leave, and usually you were since you knew he’d come back, but this time it got you.

It had only been a week, not even, of being with Price uninterrupted without anything to do with work before Laswell called saying she needed a document from him, one that was only on his work laptop he had left on base.

It wasn't so much as him being gone but the knowledge that once he got back, he’d be stuck in his home office. One document always turned into two and then five, and then he was stuck doing extra reports because the workload needed to be split between him and Laswell. He’d spend most of his break working and you had hoped that this time would be different.

You should’ve learned by now not to get your hopes up.

“Isn't it risky to bring work home with you?” You wondered out loud, your smile now faded as you picked at the fabric of the couch.

“Would you rather me stay on base?” He countered and you sighed.

“No.”

You knew he was overly careful when he brought it home with him. You had never seen a laptop so full of protection before so the likelihood of anyone getting anything out of it was nonexistent but you wished that the risk would deter him from bringing it home.

“It won’t take me long, promise.” He assured you but you had a hard time believing it.

“How far out are you?” You asked to change the subject and got up from the couch.

“About forty minutes.”

You walked into the kitchen and saw that when he’d get back it’d be time for dinner. You wondered if maybe he’d skip the meal with you to get the work done as quickly as possible which made you start pulling out the things you needed to make it.

You might as well make it now if that became the case.

“Good, you’ll be home for dinner.” You placed a skillet on the stove and turned the oven on.

“It’s my turn to make it.” You could hear the frown in his voice and imagined his usual scowl. “Put it away.”

“Are you really going to complain about a hot meal being ready when you get home?”

“Absolutely, now put it away and I’ll make dinner when I get there.”

You snorted from the use of his “captain voice” as you called it but didn’t put the skillet away. Instead you fit your phone snugly between your shoulder and your ear as you began to prepare a favorite meal you both enjoyed.

“Okay.” You lied and you must’ve made enough noise for him to know it as he grumbled to himself.

“You’re lying. Stop that.” He demanded softly and you smiled.

“It’s fine! It might not even be ready by the time you get home so you can help me.”

Price sighed heavily. There wasn’t much he could do since he was forty minutes away and talking to you on the phone. He would have to cut his losses on this one but you knew he didn’t want to and that he would surely find a way to get back at you for it.

“You’ll at least wait for me, yeah?”

“Always.”

You both went silent for a moment, taking in each other's presence even when it was on the other side of a phone. You would’ve been content staying on the phone with him until he got home but you also didn’t want to distract him any further than he already was. You could practically see the far off look he got in his eyes when he had a chance to sit in silence.

“Be careful, okay?” You said softly.

“Always. I’ll be home soon.”

The phone call ended and you set your phone down before you began to cook. You didn’t think about much after the conversion until you had to look at your phone for the recipe and you found yourself staring at the lock screen of your phone.

It was a relatively recent picture of you and Price where you had kissed his cheek just as the picture was taken. You had stared at the picture an embarrassingly amount of times but sometimes you couldn’t help it, especially when you got to thinking about how you got here.

You hadn’t expected to fall in love with him, at least not enough for him to know, but every time you were put on an assignment with him all those years ago you couldn’t help it.

You’re not sure what hooked you, his charm, work ethic, his looks, or literally anything about him, but you didn’t have any regrets for having feelings for him now. It seemed like you became friends with him almost immediately despite him being a lieutenant at the time but neither of you cared about the difference in ranking.

It took only three years after knowing him for you to realize that you loved him more than just friends, more than what was appropriate for your job. Back then you thought it was one sided but Price proved you wrong so quick you wondered how you ever had any doubts.

Since then it was hard for you to remember a time without Price. You had spent every moment speaking to him over the phone and over text before the two of you got together, getting together only meant making the times you were around each other more fulfilling.

It was still relatively recent since you moved in with him. Before the task force had been made you two had to visit each other whenever you wanted to see each other when leave was granted and though neither of you had an issue with it, the task force gave an excuse for you to move closer.

“I think I found an apartment close by.” You had told him and he had given you an incredulous look. “What, you don’t want to see me anymore?”

“I thought you were moving in with me.” He frowned and your heart skipped a beat.

“You didn’t say I could.”

“It’s a given.”

It was unofficial. A paper trail connected to you both could cause issues if someone wanted to snoop around so it was better that you moved in and pretended that you found a place somewhere else.

It had been four years since you moved in and no one had caught on. You couldn’t help but joke how easy it was for the two of you to pretend that there was nothing romantic between you because you had done it for so long.

Though, part of you wished that things would’ve changed when you were brought on the task force. There were different rules yet the secrecy of your relationship stayed the same.

Even if the task force blurred the lines of fraternizing with differently ranked soldiers, a romantic relationship between a lieutenant and a captain was far different than a friendship.

Neither of you were sure if he’d lose his job or his reputation would darken, or if the same would happen to you. You may not have affiliation with your respective militaries, but some things carry over, especially because of how long the two of you had been together.

Next month would mark ten years.

Ten years of love and some hardship. More than ten years of putting your life on the line for the greater good, but the ten years of being with him, loving him, made it more worthwhile.

This would be the first time in your entire relationship the both of you would be home for your anniversary. You always ended up having to celebrate it months after and while those times were special, you were excited to finally have the opportunity to celebrate it on the exact day.

You had no clue what you or Price planned, but you knew he was just as excited about it as you were. Almost every night he was bouncing off ideas with you before bed but neither of you could pick any of the options with how fun or exciting they sounded.

There were so many things you both wanted to do for every anniversary that now that you got the chance to celebrate it on the day, it was hard to choose.

No doubt you’d have the same conversation tonight only to end up nowhere. At the very least you both had the time to think about it without worrying about where the next war criminal or weapons deal was taking place.

The time seemed to flyby as you made dinner, though your mind was occupied for most of it. You were so preoccupied with cooking that you missed the front door opening and the familiar sound of boots hitting the floor.

Price expected you to call out to him like you normally did and was ready to reply but there was nothing. He wasn’t upset however because it meant he wouldn’t have to wait to see you after hearing you.

He set the bag with his laptop down a little unceremoniously. He knew you were a little upset that he had to go and get it because he was also more annoyed about having to get it as well. He thought he had everything finished before the task force was cleared for leave, but he should’ve known better.

He didn’t regret leading the task force but he couldn’t lie and say that the extra paperwork made the job worth it. He’d much prefer to just stay on the field and do his job there then report on intel or file things, especially since the paperwork seemed to get more and more with each mission.

It took up too much of his time. Time he could be using tying up loose ends or finding intel on Makarov or in this case spending time with you.

He huffed and pushed it out of his view. He’d deal with it tomorrow, right now he wanted to be around you.

Price knew what meal you had made from the mouthwatering smell that came from the kitchen, a favorite of you both but one of your comfort foods you ate when you were upset. He’d hoped you would forgive him for it and he was about to apologize to you as he stepped into the kitchen, but froze when he saw you.

Even after almost a decade, sometimes when he saw you he still got that funny feeling in his chest.

You weren’t doing anything other than finishing up dinner but just the sight of you in front of him, doing as you pleased with a content look on your face made him fall in love with you even more.

This happened often. It didn’t matter if you were doing the dishes or laundry, or if you were sitting on the couch reading a book or even just sleeping, he seemed to be completely enamored by you. He had to stop what he was doing just to watch, to drink in the fact that you were in front of him, around him, and at peace.

It didn’t matter how long the two of you were on leave for either. Months from now if he caught you making dinner he’d still find himself staring at you with the same sense of calm and warm heart.

The best part of all of it was the fact that you loved him.

In the past he wouldn’t have believed it if someone had told him he’d be spending leave with you in the same flat and dating you for as long as it’s been. He would’ve said it wishful thinking, he would’ve thought they were just trying to get his hopes up.

Yet now he got to watch you make dinner, the dinner he was supposed to make, in your shared flat and he couldn’t help but smile like an idiot.

“Smells good.” He said and you jumped, whirring around to look at him with your hand over your heart. “Sorry, love.”

“John.” You scolded him softly but reached out for him.

Price pulled you into him immediately and wrapped his arms around you firmly. He didn’t waste time placing a tender kiss on your lips that you reciprocated just as quickly. A smile tugged at his lips when you ran your hand through his beard and when you both pulled away, all you two could do was smile at each other.

You felt a little disheartened. It wasn’t like you wouldn’t see him again but you knew a lot of his time would be taken up with work once more. You were prepared to spend nights alone and almost having to beg for his attention while he poured most of energy into getting the work done.

It was unfortunate that his hard work ethic that got countless war criminals and black market dealers in custody or killed also made him spend most of his time trying to power through work to get it done as soon as possible. He spent most of his life working, on and off the job, and you wondered if it bothered him as much as it did you.

You should be used to it by now. You wished you didn’t get as upset as you did after having been through it for four years now but sometimes it still caught you off guard.

You’d just have to deal with it.

You tried not to let him know how upset you were but you found it hard to look him in the eyes. So instead you just gave him a quick smile and tried to step away from him.

“Do you want to eat first or…” You began but he squeezed your hip and gave you a quick smile.

“It’s tomorrow's problem.” He assured you and you brightened up immediately. “I’ll set the table.”

“Kate’s okay with that?”

“She will be.”

You grinned. You felt a little bad for Kate and you hoped that maybe she would take a break as well, but you were much more relieved that you had Price for at least the rest of the day. You’d prefer to have him for longer but you’d take what you’d get.

He gave you a quick peck on the cheek and before long the two of you sat across from each other eating dinner like nothing happened.

The rest of the evening went by normal despite the hiccup. This time on leave seemed to be easier for the two of you to fall back into civilian life as if neither of you risked your lives nearly every other day. Sometimes leave was hard to get into but this time you and Price seemed to ease into it as if you’d never left it.

Later that night when it was time for bed, you lounged in the comforts of the bed while Price went through his nightly routine in the connecting bathroom. You scrolled on your phone through potential ideas for your anniversary, your current fixation being camping, specifically cabins somewhere that was far from people that it gave enough seclusion for a peaceful uninterrupted weekend.

“What about a cabin?” You called out and he hummed.

“It’d be quiet which means we can be loud.” He teased and you snorted. “I wouldn’t mind it.”

“Me neither.”

“But you liked the beach as well.”

You pursed your lips. It was true that you did find a vacation to the beach for your anniversary an exciting idea. The waves, salt air and warm sun would be the perfect place to relax and enjoy your time with Price…but the cabin would be a nice place too. The beach was expensive but you knew he didn’t have an issue with that and would chide you for suggesting it was too much.

“Dinner somewhere posh, maybe?” Price came into the bedroom and you raised an amused eyebrow.

“And then we could go somewhere nice after. Maybe a day trip?” You suggested and he nodded.

“But that doesn’t feel like enough, eh?”

You sighed. You looked at him and he looked at you, his hands on hips while the two of you stared at each other with slight amusement. The indecisiveness from you both wasn’t too frustrating considering you both understood why neither of you could manage to choose.

There were just so many options, so many things that you never got to do until now, you both wanted to make the most of it.

“We’re never going to choose.” You shook your head and he chuckled as he crawled into bed.

“We could just take the entire month.” He pulled you closer to him and propped himself up on his elbow so he could look at you. “Do all of it.”

“That’s a little overkill.”

“Ten years is a long time, lots to celebrate.”

You put your phone away and looked up at him. You were the only one who got to see his cold blue eyes, the ones that struck fear and respect into others, softened into pools of warmth. The only one who saw him truly relax and the only one who was on the receiving end of the lovesick eyes that he seemed to pull on you every chance he got. You were the only one who could run your fingers through his soft beard that had a few new gray hairs in and the only one who got to feel his lips against yours.

You were the only one who knew him as Captain and John. Your lifelong partner, the love of your life.

“That is a long time.” You mumbled while you ran your fingers through his beard.

Price leaned into your touch as his eyes fluttered shut. He hummed deep within his chest and wrapped his hand around your wrist, rubbing his thumb into your knuckles. His eyes opened when you snaked your hand behind his head and they darkened when you gave him a gentle tug.

He pressed a short kiss to your lips to tease you. He ran his hand down your side and snuck it underneath the shirt you stole from him. He continued to tease you while his hand roamed your soft skin to make you shiver, the rough pads of his fingertips just barely touching your nipples.

“John.” You breathed out a whine and he smiled.

“What do you want, hm?” He trailed featherlike kisses across your neck up to you the shell of your ear as he continued to tease your breasts.

“Want you to touch me…be inside me.”

Price groaned softly and gave you a heated kiss. He palmed your breasts while he rolled on top of you and pinned you underneath him. He didn’t waste any time touching you the way you wanted, sparking fire across your skin and making electricity race through you while he stole every thought from you with each kiss he gave you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him there even as he made you dizzy. A moan escaped your mouth as he dipped his hand into your panties and spread open your wet folds, gathering your slick on his practiced fingers before he began to play with your clit.

He kissed your neck and you squirmed underneath him, clutching his shirt as pleasure raced through you.

It didn’t really matter if neither of you could choose as long as you were together.

A/n: sorry for the fade to black i'm just not in the mood for full blown smut. we'll have more chances in the future don't worry also sorry this took forever i got depressed lol

Tags: @thriving-n-jiving @writingmysanity @teconkaals @xb14 @misshoneypaper @hers-area @shuttlelauncher81 @mamanmae @sofasoap

#duty over heart #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #price x reader #price x you #john price x reader #john price x you #captain john price #call of duty #captain price x reader #captain price x you

423 notes · View notes

atinyniki · 6 months

Text

100 things i like love about you.

group: stray kids !

pairing: nonidol!lee know x f!reader

genre: romance, slow burn, fluff, little angst???

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, drinking, vomiting, kissing, other members of JYP groups are side characters, overthinker lino, whipped reader, lee know is referred to as minho and min.

authors note: hiii im niki (nikita) ! this is my first time writing a fic and i decided to try and make one for lee knows birthday. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 6191

(pt. 2)

it’s mid july and you’re sat at your computer at home, unable to think about what you should get your roommate for his birthday.

it’s never too early to plan right?

minho had given you the best birthday you could have possibly asked for. he brought you all of your favorite snacks and you two pulled an all nighter watching dorky kdramas.

you truly didn’t know how to feel about the gift he gave you at the end of the day though. all he gave you was an envelope before he headed to bed.

you still remember everything that was said in the note he gave you. you didn’t know minho had it in him to write such a beautiful letter. inside were a few cute polaroids you guys took over the years as well.

you wanted minho’s birthday gift to be as special as his was to you.

then it hit you.

the best idea ever.

you decide to call it “100 things”. you knew minho deserved a thoughtful gift, and you knew he’d appreciate it. you immediately went out to buy cute notecards and kitty print washi tape.

once you returned, you got back on your laptop and check the date.

july 16… perfect !

you decided that you’re going to use this extra day to plan. you open an empty document and start creating a list.

at first, you thought it’d be too difficult to think of so many things, but once you actually started writing it was difficult to stop yourself. you start wondering if minho would realize your true feelings towards him after reading all those cards.

it was no secret to you or your friends that you’ve been head over heels for lee minho for the past two or so years.

you make sure to brainstorm carefully. you don’t know what you would do if he were to find out, and quite honestly you didn’t want to pain yourself with the thought either.

you were brought out of your thoughts when you heard a loud knock on the door. you quickly saved your progress, and shut your laptop.

“come in!”

as soon as minho opened the door, you were met with a toothy grin on his face.

“i made your favorite, are you hungry?” you nodded quickly, blushing a little at the gesture, but not enough for minho to notice.

slowly, you got out of your chair and made your way to the door. you senses were immediately filled with the savory aromas, and you couldn’t help but smile.

you’ve always loved minho’s cooking, and minho loved cooking, so it worked out perfectly for the both of you.

what you didn’t know though, was that the main reason he always cooked for you was to see that adorable smile on your face while you were eating. he loved the way your cheeks would puff up whenever you stuffed more food in your mouth and how you’d thank him with a grin after every meal.

he didn’t mean to be weird, but he always found himself staring at you while eating. normally, he’d try to focus on finishing his food but he couldn’t help but watch your cheeks inflate more and more.

this time was no different. you used the chopsticks to quickly fish out the bell peppers, something minho noticed you’ve always done.

you glance over at minho to see that he’s not even half done with his plate yet.

“what’s wrong? are you not hungry?”

“oh no, sorry. i just zoned out i guess” he continued eating but stopped again when he noticed your eyes soften.

“do you want to watch a movie after this? you don’t have to, i just thought you needed a break from all your wo-“

“yeah of course y/n.” he cut off your rambling, and chuckled a little at your words. you smiled back, quickly finishing your food and getting up to wash your plate.

minho finished not too long after, and he went to go meet you at the couch. “so what do you want to watch?” you asked. “we can continue watching that show we were watching earlier if you want”

you put on the show and laid back, grabbing a blanket from your side to lay over the both of you. minho stared intently at the tv, and you were starting to think he loved this show even more than you did. soon you found yourself staring at his eyes, his gaze still focused on the tv. you made a mental note to add it to the list. there was just something about his brown boba eyes that you found so perfect.

soon, you started to doze off, but tried your best to stay awake. it was the best part of the show, when the leads find out they’ve been in love with each other for months, but you were tired. you’ve studied for so long today, and you just couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore.

your eyes slowly fluttered shut, your breathing becoming even. not too long after, the episode ended and minho was broken out of his trance. he was so focused on the plot that he didn’t even notice you had fallen asleep. a smile slowly appeared on his face, you looked so peaceful when you were sleeping.

minho carefully pushed himself off the couch, not wanting to wake you, and went over to your room. he pulled up the covers and kept the door wide open.

quickly, he made his way back to the living room and picked you up, making sure not to shake you that much. he carried you to your room, silently giggling at the way you nuzzled into his warmth. he placed you down on the bed carefully, and tucked you in.

he left your room and shut the door behind him. he wondered if you could hear how fast his heart was beating. he noticed the kitty washi tape on your desk, and reminded himself to ask you if he could borrow it later.

you woke up the next morning, not remembering how you got into your bed. you got ready for the day ahead, even though you were gonna spend most of it inside.

you quickly made yourself a bagel, and headed back to your room to write. you decided on writing about his bunny teeth first. his cute bunny teeth that would peek out whenever he was sleeping or focused on something. you thought his bunny teeth suited him wonderfully.

you made sure to make the note sound as friendly as possible, you didn’t want to ruin your friendship after all. you kept writing, but it all sounded too sappy. when you finally got it right, you put all the wasted notecards in the bin, and headed to the living room again to watch the last of the episode you missed last night.

on your way to the living room, you passed by minho’s room, but you didn’t expect him to still be asleep. his bunny teeth were on full display, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way his face is still puffy from his sleeping state.

you quickly make your way to the kitchen, cooking breakfast for minho to surprise him.

noticing that he wasn’t awake yet, you left the house as quietly as you could and ran to the local convenience store to buy him some pudding.

once you reenter your house, you see minho walking out of the corridor, indicating that he’s probably just gotten ready for the day. he was surprised to see food on the table, and even more surprised to see 3 cups of pudding in your hands. the second he saw what you were holding, his eyes lit up and he grinned.

“awhhh you did all this for meeee?” he teased. “shut up, this is just for last night” you retorted. you made your way to minho and handed him a pudding cup, storing the remaining two in the fridge to cool.

“thank you, y/n”

you were a little thrown off by the sincerity in his voice, contradicting the teasing voice he had just used. your heart fluttered at the tone, “your welcome” you quickly mumbled.

you watched as he quickly finished his food and headed back to his room. you didn’t really feel like watching your show right now anymore, so you walked back into your room to quickly complete your list.

a week later, you were working on an upcoming assignment, and you jumped a little when you heard your phone ringing. you smiled when you saw the name, “jinnie” written in bold at the top.

“hyunjin! hey, what’s up?”

“hey y/nnie. i was just wondering if you were coming to the party tonight!” you weren’t much of a partier, it wasn’t really your thing. “probably not, why?” hyunjins exaggerated groan made you laugh.

“but you never come to parties! please?” he begged. “no, there’s nothing to do there anyways”

“what do you mean? there’s lots to do! we play so many games and…”

“and…?”

“minho’s gonna be there”

“wait what? minho never goes to parties though?” you were careful not to talk too loudly so minho wouldn’t hear. “yeah, he wanted to see chan since it’s been so long”, hyunjin started giggling at how invested you were now.

“fine, i’ll think about it, but only if minho agrees to drive me.”

“fine with me! hopefully i’ll see you there y/nnie. bye now!” you laughed a little at his excitement. “bye jinnie”

minho was deep in his work during your phone call, trying to think of new lines to implement into his song. all of a sudden, he heard a knock on his door. “come in!”

you make your way into his room stepping over the mess on the floor. you know he always gets like this when he’s working on new songs. “are you going to the party tonight?”

“yeah, you going?”

“yeah, hyunjin somehow convinced me to” you awkwardly chuckle.

“i’m guessing you need a ride?”, you laughed. “well yeah, obviously”, you retorted, rolling your eyes. he chuckled at your actions, “i’d be happy to drive you”

you walk over to him and ruffle his hair playfully “thanks min!” and you trotted out. all he could do was stare at the door as left, still in shock. he started to wonder if you’d play with his hair like that if you two were actually together, but he quickly snapped himself out of it and decided not to pain himself with such thoughts.

a couple hours later, you pick out a nice red dress and do your makeup. you know jisung’s parties are always crazy, hyunjin’s always talking about them. you expect there to be a lot of partying, so you dress nice.

you make your way out just on time, minho’s exiting his room too, but halts his movements when he sees you. he’s never seen you like this before, and suddenly he feels underdressed. he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

you seem to notice this, and your confidence has suddenly boosted. “you can stop staring now”, a smug smile plastered on your face.

minho meets your gaze and suddenly realizes what he’s been doing. “oh what- wait sorry i didnt realize i was-“, you giggled at his stammering.

“dork”

you quickly made your way to the entrance of your home. minho’s ears start to turn the same shade as his crimson cheeks, frozen in the corridor.

“COME ON WE’RE GONNA BE LATE” you yell from the hall.

he rushes to the door and grabs his keys, locking the door behind him and settling in his car. he waits for you to get in, and then you’re off to jisung’s.

the drive wasn’t too far away, but it felt like forever for minho. you were sat there humming a song in peace, but he couldn’t get his mind off of what happened before in the hall.

could you see how much he liked you? did he make you uncomfortable? thoughts like these were running through his mind the entire time, but he was just hoping that he could forget about them at the party.

when you both walked into jisung’s house, you were instantly greeted by changbin, who was sitting on the couch near the front door with hyunjin.

“Y/N! YOU MADE IT” hyunjin yelled out of excitement.

“YAH! keep it down hyunjin” changbin scolded.

you laughed and made your way into the kitchen, where you saw chan greet minho with a smile. you were met with ryujin and yuna, who squealed at the sight of you.

“y/n… finally at a party hm?”, yuna said as she pulled you in for a hug. ryujin chimed in, “that dress is gorgeous by the way”. you smiled, “thank you”. you don’t wear dresses very often, but they make you feel pretty. maybe you should start wearing them more.

the drinks were all set out on the table, you haven’t had any alcohol in a while. minho had already told you beforehand that he wouldn’t be drinking so he could drive you home safe, so you figured you might as well. you took a shot with yeji.

and another.

and then another…

it was too early in the party to get wasted, but to be honest you didn’t really care. it’s been a while since you drank and you wanted to let loose.

“shall we start the games?” asked jisung.

“what types of games?” questioned changbin.

“oh you know… the usual”

you haven’t been to any of ji’s parties, so you weren’t really sure what the usual was. it’s not like you were sober enough to care anyways.

the set of games started with 7 minutes in heaven.

minho’s heart dropped. he was scared. the thought of you kissing one of the guys here made him sick to his stomach.

“y/n’s turn first!”, seungmin slurred.

you slowly went over to the hat to pick a name out.

“chan” you read aloud.

slowly, chan got up and led you to the room. it was dark, but the rules were the rules. you sat down on the bed with chan, a small frown on your face.

he laughed a little at your disappointment, “what’s wrong, were you hoping to pick minho?”

your eyes widened and you stared up to look at him. “how did you-“

“you’re not very good at hiding your feelings you know”, he cuts you off and smiles at you again.

“i’m sorry chan, i know this isn’t how the game is really supposed to be played but i want to save my first kiss for someone special and-“

“FIRST KISS?!” chan screamed.

you smacked a hand over his mouth, “shut up they’ll hear you!” you whispered

“sorry, sorry” he mumbled

minho heard chan through the thin walls of the room. it wasn’t too hard to hear considering the fact that chan practically yelled it. minho’s heart dropped straight to his stomach. did chan just steal your first kiss? were you even thinking straight considering that you were drunk?

questions ran through his mind, and hyunjin noticed minho’s eyes darting around the room. hyunjin holds on to minho’s shoulder, “you okay min?”

“yeah i’m fine, i’m gonna go grab some water”

once minho returns, he sees that you and chan have already left the room.

“have fun you two?” jeongin teased.

“you know we did”, you replied with a wink.

chan started laughing, and the lump growing in minho’s throat started growing bigger.

suddenly, you felt sick. it was probably the alcohol, so you quickly excused yourself to the bathroom.

worried, minho followed you there, only to see you on the ground in front of the toilet. he quickly rushed to you and held your hair so it wouldn’t get wet. you were embarrassed but it’s not like you could really do anything when you’re throwing up buckets.

you had finally calmed down and looked at him. his hands were intertwined with yours, and you made sure to add his touch to the list too. pure worry swirled around in his chocolate eyes.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean-“

“it’s okay. are you feeling better? do you want to leave?”

you really did just want to go home and rest, but didn’t want minho to miss out on the fun.

“do you want to stay?”, you asked hesitantly.

“if you’re feeling sick i’m more than happy to bring you home now y/n.” ‘you’re my top priority’ he wanted to add.

he helped you up and dried your face after you washed it, he preferred you without makeup anyways. it was easier to see your perfect features clearly. he tucked a stray hair sticking to your forehead behind your ear, and walked out of the bathroom with you.

“guys y/n is feeling a little sick so we’ll have to be leaving now. sorry to cut it so short” he quickly announces. he leads you out, listening to the “get well soon!”s and “hope you feel better”s. the drive back home is silent. minho can’t stop thinking about what happened between you and chan today. he didn’t know that you’ve never kissed anyone before. and now that he knows, he wished you had saved it for him.

you arrive home and he walks you back into your room. minho brings you your sweats and a t-shirt, his t-shirt, along with a pair of undergarments straight from the dryer. you reminded yourself to add to the list later. you admired how caring he was towards people, even if he didn’t show it much.

“call me if you need help okay? i’ll be right outside the door. tell me when you’re done changing”

not too long after, you call him back in your room. he smiled at you, the oversized t-shirt hanging off one of your shoulders. he probably thought you’d be too drunk to notice, but you couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like if you were to steal his clothes everyday to wear.

you make your way into the bed, exhausted and tired from what had happened earlier. minho places a glass of water next to you, and sits down on the bed next to you. you didn’t mean to, but you couldn’t stop yourself from cuddling up into the warmth of his body.

he let himself sink down a little in the pillows, so it was more comfortable for you. his heart was beating so fast that he thought you could hear it. he couldn’t control his thoughts, and his mind drifted back to what happened between you and chan.

“was chan really your first kiss?, he asks softly. you suddenly felt a pang in your chest. “no, we just talked. i told him i wanted to save my first kiss for someone special and he kind of freaked”

minho let out a light sigh of relief, and prayed you didn’t hear. he began to rub soothing circles on your back with his thumbs.

you know minho isn’t a very big fan of physical touch, but the gesture didn’t go unnoticed. in fact, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. you felt tears well up in your eyes, no one has really taken the time to care for you like this.

as much as you tried to fight it, light sobs shook your body. you’ve been so overwhelmed with your feelings, you truly just needed a hug. minho felt your body shake, and pulled away in panic.

he slid down further on the bed. “what’s wrong? are you okay?”, he made sure to speak softly. he didn’t want to overwhelm you. you clutched his shirt tightly in your hands, balled into fists.

he was scared. he didn’t know what was wrong, but the least he could do was be there for you. he stayed. he made sure to stay awake till you fell asleep. and soon after, sleep overtook his body as well.

you never talked about that night after that. you woke up in his arms that day, you still remember the way your heart started doing somersaults. he later brought you all the essentials for your hangover, and cooked you some food too. you couldn’t get over the domesticity of it all. you wanted him to be there for the rest of your life. you just couldn’t spit it out already.

you never returned his shirt.

a couple weeks later, you’re writing another card again, this time about his ears. you found it adorable the way they would get red whenever he was flustered.

you hear the door open and check the time. it’s late, almost half past midnight. you open your door to see a disheveled minho staring at you. your heart cracks at the sight.

“sorry, did i wake you? i just got back from dance, i didn’t-“

“no it’s fine, i was up working on… a couple assignments. are you okay?”

minho didn’t answer your question. not because he was ignoring you but just because he didn’t know how to.

you tell him you’d be right back, and run over to the bathroom, leaving him in the hallways confused. while he waits for you, he places down his bag and gets out a comfortable shirt and some sweats.

you run a warm bubble bath for him, making sure it wasn’t uncomfortably hot, and put in a couple bath salts to color the water a soft shade of pink.

you make your way back to minho’s room. “min”, you spoke softly, “i ran you a bubble bath”

his heart twists at your tone, he wasn’t expecting something like this. he wanted to thank you, but he was too exhausted to do so, so he just smiled. he walked over to the bathroom and locked the door. you hoped he’d feel better soon.

it was early september now, and you were writing another one of your notes. you thought minho would really appreciate your gift, you just had a lot of trouble making it sound more platonic.

minho knocked on your door again, handing you a plate with cut up fruit on it. you smiled at him, “thanks min”. and got back to work.

“what’re you working on?”

“oh nothing important, just a present”

he didn’t think anything of it so he left it alone. as he was walking out, he saw your trash bin filled to the brim. “i’ll swap this out”

“oh sorry! i didn’t notice it was that full already. thanks again minho”

now, minho wasn’t trying to snoop. he was honestly just trying to help you. he was taking out the trash when one of the scrapped notecards fell out the bin. he picked it up and read the title. ‘your lips’

he wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but he was curious, and couldn’t stop himself from reading the rest. ‘i love the way your lips sit-‘ and just a bunch of scribbles.

his heart drops. were you writing love letters to someone? he picked up another one. ‘your warmth’ ‘i love the way your warmth makes me feel like im wrapped in a safety blanket-’ and more scribbles

who was making you feel this way? minho decided not to ask about it. he didn’t think you’d appreciate his snooping. he trashed the letters and made his way into his room. he wrapped himself in a blanket, but his room just felt cold.

everything felt cold. minho felt cold. maybe he was too late. maybe he should have confessed to you a year ago. he felt empty. he couldn’t sleep that night.

it was nearing the end of october now, meaning minho’s birthday was coming up. you two have gotten closer over the past couple months, and you couldn’t be more grateful, but recently he seemed off.

when you wake up, you quickly go to the convenience store to grab some flour. even though you already had a gift, you wanted his birthday to be special. he had no plans so you figured why not?

while at the store, you also made sure to pick up some blue food dye for the frosting.

recently, minho couldn’t get seem to get out out his mind. he wondered if you were a secret admirer of someone, or maybe you were seeing them. he hasn’t been as affectionate recently either, he didn’t want to ruin anything for you.

it’s october 24th now, just one more day until his birthday. you prepare your cards, and place them neatly in a decorated blue box. you decided that you’d write the last one at midnight on his birthday along with a small letter.

you leave your room to see minho at the kitchen table, quickly eating lunch before he went out for groceries.

you groaned “oh come on, stay home! it’s your birthday tomorrow for gods sake.” he laughed at your whining “i’ll go, just text me the list.”, you continued.

“nah i need some fresh air anyways. do you want to…”, he trailed off.

“want to what?”

“would you like to come with me?”

you didn’t understand why he was so hesitant, but you nodded and just grabbed your jacket.

you both arrived at the shop and you immediately ran off towards the pastry section. minho had to chase after you so he didn’t lose you.

“do you want the cherry or the peach filled ones?”, you asked him excitedly.

“cherry”

minho couldn’t help but smile at you. he wished he could go grocery shopping with you for the rest of his life, but he couldn’t. he stopped his mind before it could get off track, and decided to focus on his time with you instead.

you two finish grocery shopping, and you made sure to grab an extra two cups of pudding.

it was now nearing the end of the day, only two hours before midnight. you set up your gift, and got your last card ready for writing later.

as the time got closer, you suddenly became nervous. you were worried that minho would be able to see right through you and discover your true feelings.

it’s was only ten minutes before his birthday. once you had finished brainstorming what you would write on his last card, you made your way over to his room at 11:58.

you knocked quietly on the door. “min? can i come in?”. no answer.

you thought he’d fallen asleep, so you opened the door and peered through the crack, not wanting the hallways lights to wake him. to your surprise you see minho at his desk, busy with some work. he hummed along to the tune of the track, his voice low.

he hadn’t heard you come in due to his noise-canceling headset. you checked your phone. october 25. you slowly walked over to his chair where he was sitting and put your hands over his.

he shook a little bit, a little surprised by the sudden touch and he took off his headset. “sorry i didn’t mean to startle you…”, you paused. “happy birthday min”

he teared up a little at the softness in your voice while saying this. he felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips, and soon it became a grin. you were happy to see him smile, and wondered if he’d feel the same way after opening your gift. “thank you y/n”.

you heard a small quiver in his voice, but accounted it for his tiredness.

“go to sleep soon, we have a long day tomorrow”

“oh yeah? what are we doing?”, you giggled. “making you the best cake you’ll ever have”, he smiled at your confidence. he was a great cook, but isn’t all that great at making sweets.

“thank you, y/n. it means a lot that you waited down to the minute”

your eyes widened a little at his sincerity. he only uses this soft voice when you’re sick or dozing off.

“of course min, goodnight”

you walked into your room and you felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest. you packed up all the cards and decorated the box with cute little cat drawings.

you decided to head to bed for the night, and set your alarm at the same time as minho’s. you didn’t want to miss a single second with him.

you got ready for the day ahead, meeting minho in the kitchen. you got the cocoa powder out from the pantry. “what do you say we have some chocolate cake for breakfast?”

“hopefully you don’t set the kitchen on fire again”

you thought back to the last time you tried to bake something last time. you got distracted watching tv and couldn’t smell the poor pie burning.

you and minho began to make the batter, some splattering on the counter. while mixing, some of the batter got on your finger, and you couldn’t stop yourself from tasting it. even though it probably isn’t safe to eat raw eggs, a drop can’t hurt right?

you turn to see minho staring at you, laughing. “you just couldn’t resist, huh?”

you turned back to your bowl and continued mixing, and minho couldn’t help but smile. he wondered what it would be like if you could always cook together.

minho began to work on making the frosting, a light chocolate buttercream. you put the cake in the oven and waited for it to finish while minho brought out the cooling rack and placed it on the counter.

you checked the time. 1:47 PM. you didn’t expect this to take so long, and your stomach was grumbling just about every second.

minho laughed at your groaning. “would you like some pudding?”

“no i’m okay, i’ll just wait for the cake”

minho grabbed a spoon from the drawer and picked up some pudding.

“here, you’re hungry”

all you could do was smile. you wanted minho to enjoy his pudding, but if you were going to be honest, you were really hungry.

you finally gave in, the vanilla coating your tongue. you hummed in satisfaction. “thank you minho!”

he couldn’t help but smile at how you sounded like a child. the cake was finally finished after a while, and minho went to go chill the cake while you enjoyed your pudding.

once the cake was fully baked through, you grabbed the piping bag and started icing the cake. you drew pretty chocolate rosettes around the top.

minho admired your skill, surprised that you knew how to pipe perfect rosettes. he continued to let you do your thing, and soon the cake was done.

it was about 2:38 now, and you both were so hungry. you each cut yourself a slice of cake and sat down at the couch.

“oh my gosh this is amazing, genuinely the best chocolate cake i’ve ever had”

after hearing minho’s reaction you were glad you had looked up so many recipes.

“thank you”, you replied, mouth still full.

minho loved seeing how happy you were while you were eating. it’s great to appreciate good food.

not too long after, you both finish your cake and put the rest in the fridge. you both sit back down on the couch to watch a movie. you decided to treat minho to a horror movie, since he loved them.

you were a little skeptical about it, since you get scared easily, but figured you should make an exception today, for him. minho didn’t understand why you were being so incredibly caring, but he didn’t mind it.

you started the movie, and the intro was already unsettling. you started to shift in your seat uncomfortably next to minho. you tried not to move too much since you didn’t want to bother.

the movie started getting more suspenseful. you were practically on edge, trying not to make a noise. all of a sudden you feel something warm under the blanked. you tore your eyes off of the tv to see minho staring at you.

“are you okay? if it’s too scary i can shut it off”

as much as you wanted to be honest, you couldn’t. “no it’s okay, i don’t mind”

minho’s hand never let go of yours during the duration of the rest of the movie. it was heavily comforting, and you didn’t seem to be as scared anymore.

“i can’t believe you did all this for me y/n. i was really just planning on treating myself to some pudding today.”

“well, im not done just yet”

minho was appalled. “there’s more?!”, he exclaimed. “it’s nothing much, just meet me in your room in five, i have to get it ready.”

minho was curious as to what it could possibly be. he made his way back to his room, while you grabbed the decorated blue box and made sure the notecards were sorted in the right order.

you make your way to minho’s room, your heart beating loudly. you suddenly felt incredibly nervous, but it’s not like you could change your mind now.

minho’s eyes drift to the blue box in your hands. “what’s that?”. you sit on the bed next to him and hand him the box.

“open it”

he removed the lid of the box and his jaw dropped. the notecards. he picked one up, the first line had the date and time. ‘your smile’

‘you have such an amazing smile. i love the way your eyes crinkle and how you smile with your whole being. it warms my heart to be able to see it so often’

he was speechless. he could feel the tears pricking at his eyes. he picked up another card. ‘the mole on your nose’, and then another, ‘your lips’, except this time, the description was complete.

you were practically beaming at him as he shuffled through the cards. but you didn’t expect him to look back up at you with tears in his eyes.

i love you so much

your eyes widened.

shit. did he just say that out loud?

“i’m sorry, i didn’t- i didn’t mean to say that out loud”

“you love me…?”, you stared at him in complete shock. you didn’t know what to say.

fuck. he knew there was no turning back now. “of course i love you. how could i not? you do so much for me y/n. you make me feel like i can be myself. your touch feels like im being lit on fire. my heart feels like it’s going to beat out my chest every time i see you. not to mention you’re absolutely gorgeous and-“

before he could say anything else, you crashed your lips into his. you didn’t know where it was going or what you were going to do, but you knew you wanted to save your first for someone special. you wanted to save it for minho. his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. the kiss wasn’t really urgent or needy, and instead it was comforting. you loved the feeling of his lips on yours.

you slowly pulled away from him, foreheads touching and breath fanning just under his nose. “you don’t know how long i’ve waited to do that”, your words coming out breathy.

you can’t get over how beautiful minho looks right now. his hair is a mess due to your hands pulling at it. his lips swollen and pink from the kiss you had just shared.

“i love you y/n”

you kiss the small mole on his nose and smile at him.

“i love you more minho”

his entire face lit up at those few words. he let the tears fall freely now, burying his head into your shoulder. “thank you for everything y/n. you’re the best gift i could have ever asked for”

his voice was honest. sincere. soft. you knew he meant it, and you could hear the raw emotion that his words contained. you brought you hand to his face to wipe away a stray tear.

“i can’t wait to experience so many new exciting things with you.”

he looked back up at you and smiled, picking up the box behind him and setting it on his dresser. there was the familiar look in his eyes again, and you were stupid not to notice it before. he pulls you into bed and wraps you in a hug.

“min? what are you-“

“shhh. please, just for a little while”

you smiled at his words, and held him back. you peppered kisses all over his face, listening to his soft whines. you could definitely get used to the feeling of minhos skin on your lips.

slowly, you heard his heavy breathing turn into light snores. you reached over him to turn off the lights, and held him for the rest of the night. you wanted him to sleep peacefully now. he deserved it.

you two would talk about what happened in the morning, but right now this moment was too special to waste.

#lee know #skz #skz x reader #lee know x reader #straykids x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #skz slow burn #lee know scenarios #lee know skz #lee minho #lee know birthday #stray kids imagines #stray kids soft hours #lee know imagines

191 notes · View notes

lambourngb · 9 months

Text

Prompt : Past and Future Married Selves From Future Try to Matchmake Present Selves

Timetravel, established IceMav-

****

“What the hell are you doing?”

Mav froze where he was carefully hanging up his bomber jacket on a coat hook and turned to face his husband, clearly recognizing the look on his face. Annoyed but fond, so not truly an Admiral-level of annoyance. “Do I really need to explain it?” He glanced at his jacket on the rung and then toward the desk in the middle of the room with a shiny placard for Lt. Commander Tom Kazansky.

Ice raised his eyebrow, sporting four stars on his shoulders as he took in his past self’s desk. “Seriously? You stole your own jacket and put it in my office?”

“It’s called ‘providing a pretext',” Mav said primly. “I love this jacket. Trust me, I’ll search the whole base, and when I find it in your office, I’ll be relieved and thankful it’s safe.”

“You would be relieved now, but back then?” Ice looked skeptical, walking deeper into his past self’s office. Everything was neat, filed away, no sense of personality, but he knew if he opened up the bottom desk drawer, there would be a framed picture of the Enterprise and their famous handshake. It would take years, and of course finally having Mav as his partner before Ice would have the courage to display it openly.

Then once that happened, he couldn’t help but display it everywhere. Admirals had that type of power.

“Back then, I was definitely looking for a reason to linger in your office,” Mav replied confidently.

“You were still involved with Charlie; you were talking about moving to DC and taking a job at Pax River.”

“Only because I thought I needed to put a whole country between us to keep from getting discharged dishonorably.”

Ice rolled his eyes, not exactly remembering it that way. This time point was painful and sore for him, and when they had both found themselves suddenly back in 1987, he had wanted to hide out in a beach motel until the time-travel spell that hit them both had passed. And it would pass the night after the lunar eclipse; there was enough documentation to guarantee that. Still, in 1987, and since he had been following Mav for almost thirty years at this point, he had followed him again to their old offices at Top Gun reluctantly.

This was a bittersweet point in their history. They had built a friendship in Miramar, but Ice knew he had done it under false pretenses, believing he could only have a friendship with his hopelessly straight wingman. It took serving in a war together and a bail-out over the Gulf to change that.

Suddenly Mav’s eyes lit up, and Ice’s stomach sank in recognition. “Oh, you still shave with that coconut cream during this time! If we rub that on the collar, so I think you were wearing this, I promise you, I’ll be at your door the very next night-“

Sighing, Ice slipped behind his old desk and opened up the top drawer, knowing unerringly that he had stopped keeping that shaving cream in his locker after getting teased about it at Top Gun. “You mean this?”

“Yes!” Mav grabbed it, dispensing a small dab into his palms to rub together. He inhaled the tropical scent with a sigh and then rubbed the lingering scent into the collar of his past self’s jacket. Something about the scent seemed to ignite a fire in his eyes as he took in the old office and flickered to the beat-up couch against the office wall. “Say, Ice-“

“No.”

“Oh come on, we never had a chance to defile this couch, and trust me, I wanted to do it back then-“

That was true enough; teaching at Top Gun provided the foundation for their friendship, and by the time it had turned sexual, they had faced different deployments and long distances. Miramar was in the hands of the Marines now. It was tempting.

1987 Ice wouldn’t have said no to Mav, even though he knew the other man was in a relationship. 2022 Ice, married to the menace, was not any stronger. “Fine- but don’t, and I mean this, don’t come on the cushions, my past self still has to work in here.”

#icemav #short prompt fill #timetravel

173 notes · View notes

munsons-mutiny · 1 year

Text

I’ve had this headcanon forever and it’s just never come up anywhere, so I figured it’s time to write about it.

Caleb’s spell that he makes for Veth, Widogast’s Transmorigification, has major implications for Exandria’s trans population! This could be the magical equivalent of top or bottom surgery only it’s down to a biological level! I’m sure they’ve had their own procedures, but a body that you can personally design does seem like an upgrade from whatever technology/magic they have available!

I like to believe that Caleb doesn’t think about the spell in that context at first, why would he? It was designed for someone with a different type of body dysphoria, and he doesn’t interact with too many trans people (at least that he knows, I have no clue if he knows about Yussa, and they haven’t seen Bryce in ages).

But once he starts teaching, and establishes himself as a safe space for queer kids (you can’t tell me the empire is super open minded, especially their most prestigious traditional institution) the application becomes obvious. The first time his favorite student, a small purple tiefling named Aza who reminds him so much of Molly it hurts, comes to him mid-breakdown because of how bad the dysphoria is the solution just immediately pops into his head. He could fix this for her, give her the body she should’ve been born in.

He comforts her the best he can and then calls a meeting of the lgbt club he has set up (it’s run under the radar to make it safe even for students who aren’t out to their peers yet). Where he gives a presentation on the spell, and it’s capabilities, even has Veth come in to show the results and have her talk about her experience and if there had been any side effects.

A couple students in the room cry at the possibility, some remain uninterested, but many are enraptured with the idea.

In what seems like the blink of an eye Caleb has suddenly become an underground queer hero, he starts performing the spell free of cost to anyone who wants it and is above the legal age (you just have to help dig up the clay if you can). Ends up having a whole medical procedure to the spell, where he takes them to the blooming grove (which I imagine has plenty of clays heheh) where it’s peaceful and they can talk everything over with caduceus before and after. Who can guide them through their feelings much better than Caleb though he always tries his best. He always offer the option to go back as well (though they have to wait a year, which is of course stated beforehand) if it isn’t the solution they were hoping for.

(Totally off track but I fully believe Caduceus ends up super involved in Caleb’s queer club, there’s so little aro ace rep and seeing someone whose so confident in it would be so helpful for them, and I think it would be so comforting for Caddy to see others like him and to know he’s not alone in that)

They keep the whole operation quiet, but it spreads silently throughout the queer community, Astrid even stepping in a time or two to keep it off the Assembly’s radar (She may be straight, but she’s poly with a bi partner, and I believe she’ll use her powers for causes she believes in for better or worse. Thankfully this is one of them).

There’s still discrimination against the queer community, but this quiet movement starts to spread to the point that almost every member of the nein is involved. Beau uses her connections at the Soul to get new documentation for people with proper names and pronouns. Yasha starts running Rexxentrum’s first self-sustainable lgbt safehouse for kids with nowhere to go (the garden is incredible). Jester and Fjord turn Fjord’s old orphanage into a second lgbt safehouse after he gets it shut down. Veth adds lgbt education to her camps curriculum, and is an advocate for same sex healthcare in the Nicodranas school system. She has a tunic that says proud mother of a bisexual wizard that she wears a little too often much to Caleb’s chagrin. Even Kingsley (illegal pirate king that he may be, my beloved) ends up becoming as involved as possible in Caleb’s group. Loves learning more about gender identity, and becomes the first Plank King to be openly gender fluid (probably who knows, I don’t know much about Darktows history but I def didn’t get super queer vibes). Makes sure Dark-Tow is accepting of all who turn to piracy, and imposes harsh laws against discrimination.

Essek looks on all of this with pride, so proud of Caleb and even the small role that he got to play in the spells creation. It’s the first time he gets to see something he helped with create good in the world. With Caleb’s permission he ends up sneaking back into the dynasty and leaving a copy of the finished spell on the Bright Queens desk, with a big created by Caleb Widogast across it (with whatever the wizard equivalent of copyright is). In a culture that centers around rebirth in different bodies, the idea that you could choose to have your original body back is a big deal. Dysphoria after consecuted individuals get their magic back is a huge problem within the dynasty, and it does Essek a lot of good to know that he’s done something actually helpful for his country.

Basically this got super long winded and out of hand, and I know Matt has largely cut homophobia, transphobia, and non-fantasy racism from Exandria but this idea would just not leave me alone!! And either way the spells implications for a gender affirming procedure are still super relevant.

387 notes · View notes

am-i-interrupting · 10 months

Text

Focus

Description: You worked closely with Chief Ganondorf, you knew his plans and you knew you’d have to be careful in how you revealed to the King and Queen what would happen. It couldn’t be sudden, it would have to be gradual, one hint at a time.

Tags: 1.7k words, gerudo!reader, slight language barrier (written text), yearning, implied Ganondorf x Reader, inspired by an @alilbitlesbian post

Your fingernails drummed against the table as you looked over the paper in front of you. You forced yourself to focus on it. You had to focus on it.

It was all written in Hyrulian. You knew most. You knew enough to be considered fluent but you were no expert. You needed to give the words your full attention to piece together the puzzle that was context and figure out the meaning of words you didn’t understand.

You couldn’t be distracted. You had to focus.

They were right in front of you though. How could you be expected to do anything when they were right in front of you.

King Rauru and Queen Sonia of Hyrule, you’d heard their names before but only in tones filled with annoyance and occasional malice. What you’d been told of them did not prepare you to fit in front of them.

Rauru was tall with a thin coat of fur all over his body, barely an inch thick— if that. It was all a shade of gray save for his ears which were as white as his hair with longer, fluffier fur. You’d caught yourself wondering several times if his many earrings would jangle if you scratched those ears and you got your answer when he turned his head and a soft tinging was heard as they clicked together.

Sonia was a Hylian woman with similarly long hair to her husband though hers was blonde instead of white. Her eyes were a shade of vibrant green that was more colorful than the grass and flora you saw on the trek here. Those eyes were filled with understanding that you were left questioning, not sure what she saw when she looked at you that made her soften so much.

“Are you alright?” Rauru asked with your title at the end of his sentence.

“I’m well,” you told him. You let your fingers drum against the table a few moments more as you continued to stare at the words that muddled together on the page before you finally relented. “Though, if I’m completely honest, I do believe I’m having some. . . difficulty understanding. That is to say, I don’t know all of the words written.”

Sonia’s eyebrows rose and then fell as a soft smile came to her lips. She stood and walked over to you. Her hand went to rest between your shoulder blades as she bent a bit to get a better look at the paper.

You willed yourself to not think of how warm her hand was or how you could feel the very tips of her fingers against your skin.

“Let us take a look together, shall we?” she said.

With her help you realized that you did know most of these words and the ones you hadn’t were outlandishly lavish. There was simply the matter of spelling, different dialects and all. When you’d gone over the entirety of the paperwork, her hand still didn’t leave your back,

You cleared your throat and reached for a writing utensil. “I do believe that these are reasonable expectations,” you said. “The Gerudo will happily accept your request, King Rauru.”

“I’m pleased to hear,” he said as you signed the papers.

You slid the papers back to Rauru who took them so carefully. His fingers curled around the documents, only the pads of them touching it. He seemed almost wary of his nails, like they would pierce through the pages if he held them too harshly. Perhaps it’d happened before.

With a heavy feeling in your chest, you moved to stand. Sonia’s hand and warmth retreated from you as you did.

“If that is all, I should be off,” you said. “Sav'orq and sav'orr.”

“Are you sure you wish to go?” Sonia asked. “You’re welcome to stay. It’s getting late.”

She was right, of course. The sun had gone down and the moon was beginning to rise by the time you’d finished. However, you had to leave. You’d rather not deal with him thinking something had happened.

“It’s a multi day journey,” you reminded her. “One night won’t make a difference.”

“Then one hour shouldn’t either,” Rauru said. “We have the extra room. Please, if not for yourself than to ease our minds. There are many creatures of the night which could harm you. It’d be safer to turn in early and rise the same than to traverse far enough away from the towns and stables so if something happens, no one will know.”

You tried to focus on your goal. You knew that you really should leave now, get three to four hours of travel in tonight to make up for the lost time but they made a compelling argument.

You looked at them both. They should know they already won this bout of conversation. As soon as they’d asked the question, you knew the answer.

“If it’s not trouble,” you said.

“None at all,” Sonia said. “I’ll work on the arrangements.”

She left the room. Now it was just you and Rauru, alone in such a large room. There weren’t even guards. How trusting, how foolish.

“You should tighten your security,” you told him.

His brows raised. “Any particular reason?” he asked.

Oh, so many. Too many.

There was a reason Ganondorf had chosen you to come, because he knew you couldn’t say no to him. You hadn’t said no to him so many times and in so many different ways.

It wasn’t because you were weak or fragile. When push came to shove, you’d normally have no qualms telling him he was wrong. He’d even encouraged it, fond of the challenge. You simply knew when to keep your mouth shut for either safety or occasionally pleasure.

“Like you said, dangerous times,” you settled on saying.

He slowly inhaled and exhaled, a whirlwind of emotion hidden in his eyes.

He didn’t comment further. Instead, he changed the subject, “You must be famished, it’s been such a long day and we barely took a break. May I?”

You gestured for him to go ahead.

He led you down the halls of the castle to a kitchen area. He scooped several fruits you’d seen only briefly in your time here with Ganondorf but hadn’t tried onto a plate. Then he grabbed a pot filled with water and began preparing something.

It was so strange to see, a king making and preparing his own things. It didn’t seem right or rather normal. Especially in comparison to Ganondorf who practically used you as all his needs packed into one. You prepared his food. You stood watch to guard by his throne. You handled the townspeople’s squabbles. You did everything except the political work. That was until recently when you’d been thrown into that too.

“Oh, there you are,” Sonia said as she entered the room. “I couldn’t figure out where the two of you went.”

“My apologies,” Rauru said. “It simply occurred to me that none of us had eaten in our time together. I thought I’d rectify that.”

“A noble cause,” Sonia said as she reached over you for a golden, round fruit.

She bit into it with a small crunch sound. Her eyes fluttered closed for a mere second as something in her seemed to relax.

You could see the smallest droplet of something clear begin to try to roll down her lips and chin but you reached out to gather it with your thumb before it got the chance. It was sticky on your skin though that was to be expected.

Sonia’s hand nearly went to where yours had touched her but she stopped herself.

“I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until food was placed in front of me,” she said with a small smile.

“A common realization,” Rauru said.

He grabbed three cups. What was normal in your hands was dwarfed in his. It seemed so small, like an adult playing with a child’s toy.

He held them like he held the papers (not hard enough to pierce) and the fruit (not hard enough to bruise), not hard enough to crack.

He poured tea into the three cups. You reached for the one closest to you slowly.

“No one has ever made me tea before,” you admitted.

A flitter of sadness was quickly washed away with the hand placed on your arm and smile scratched across her lips as Sonia said, “Then you’re in for a treat, Rauru makes some of the best tea I’ve ever tasted.”

“Now, Sonia, you know better than to place false expectations in people’s heads,” Rauru said.

“And you know better than to lie,” she retorted.

You hide a smile at their banter with the cup before you took a sip.

“I’m afraid Queen Sonia is correct,” you said. “You’ve downplayed. It’s wonderful tea.”

“Thank you.”

“And please, simply call me Sonia.”

You arrived in Gerudo Town nearly four hours after the sun had descended from the sky. You took a moment to bask in the comfortable temperature inside the walls of the town (especially in contrast with the sharp chill of the outside) before you began to make your way to Ganondorf’s chambers.

“You’re late,” he said sternly.

“The meeting ran over,” you explained, not lying but not revealing the entire truth.

He scoffed lightly as he turned to look at you. He circled you, inspected you with critical eyes. He searched for any sign of damage. If there was the smallest scratch or faintest bruise on your skin you knew he’d find it and use it to his advantage. He found nothing.

“Would you like to make up for your lost time?” he asked.

“Of course.”

You followed him to wherever it was he led you. You knew what you were agreeing to. You did it willingly, probably would even if he wasn’t your higher up and simply a man on the street. However, he wasn’t the only person you’d found yourself drawn to in these ways recently. You couldn’t admit to that, however. At the very least not now.

Perhaps soon you’d be able to focus on more than just him and his wants. You dared to dream that maybe one day you could focus on your own.

#rauru x reader #king rauru x reader #king rauru x you #rauru x you #rauru x sonia x reader #Rauru x reader x Sonia #queen sonia x reader #queen sonia x you #sonia x reader #sonia x you

125 notes · View notes

howtofightwrite · 2 years

Note

Hi, I'm not the person that asked about naming weapons. But the question got me thinking: how did weapons like Excalibur and Mjölnir get their name? If they're named like "people" would, if I'm understanding it right, then do those names have a meaning? Were those names ever a human name or are they derived from something? Is it like naming someone Rose, which derives from flowers, I guess? And could someone choose any name or does it need to be a specific name...like...an extreme example: instead of wanting to name the sword Excalibur, what if they just named it Peter because whoever named it liked that name better? Hope this all makes sense! 😖

Both of those names have meanings. Most names given to weapons have some kind of meaning, and you've picked two names that have been kicking around for over a thousand years, so the, “modern,” pronunciations are a bit off.

Mjolnir is either named, “lightning,” or, “crush.” It's just not named in English. (It's also not completely clear which translation is correct, and I wouldn't rule out the distant possibility that the name Mjolnir is, in fact, a millennia old pun.)

Excalibur is a bit of a trip, and somewhat better documented. The, “ex,” part came from the French translating Geoffrey of Monmouth. Geoffrey had already mutilated the sword's name when he translated it into Latin as Caliburnus (which, you'll sometimes see a sword named Caliburn. It's Excalibur, and if they sound a little different, you can thank a twelfth century British cleric.) Except, the sword wasn't originally named Caliburn, it's original name was Caledfwlch (which the spellchecker is extremely unhappy with.) Caledfwlch is Welsh. Caled translates to, “hard,” while, fwlch translates to, “cleft.” (As in, to cut or cleave.) So, through extensive linguistic mutilation, Excalibur was originally named something to the effect of, “hard cut.” If you're wondering why Excalibur originally had a Welsh name, it's because Arthur was originally a Welsh legend. (There's a few other names drawn from the same source, and these all, at least in theory, refer to the same sword, including Kalesvolg, and Kaledvoulc'h. There's also a bunch of variations in the French spelling of Escalibor, which do pop up as different swords from time to time.) One odd exception is Caladbolg, from Irish myth, which also translates to, “hard cleft,” but might actually be a distinct legend.

So, over a thousand years ago, some guy, who probably, but might not have existed, named their sword Hard Cut, which sounded a lot better in their language than ours. Nine hundred years ago, a British cleric decided to translate it into Latin, and may have just made parts of it up as he was going. Then some French monks tried translating that name into French, but, being French monks from the 11thcentury, they maintained a somewhat flexible relation with consistent spelling, and somewhere out of that entire mess, one of those spellings made it back into English as, THE name for the sword.

Also, turns out, some variation of, “hard,” is a very popular choice for naming your sword, as Durendal, the sword of Roland (an officer under Charlemagne, who would later take on mythic status in French epics), also derives from, “hard scythe.” (Again, “hard cut,” is probably a better idiomatic analogue, though there is some debate on the back half of the name, and, “hard strike,” may be more accurate. There's some interesting academic speculation on this one, if you want to dig into these names on your own time.) Also, much like Excalibur, Durendal has a lot of spellings, including Charlemagne referring to the sword as, “Durendana,” intentionally flipping the gender of the blade. Make of that what you will. (Fun trivia: my muscle memory for how to spell the name is not academically correct, and much like all of you who have difficulty typing “Curtana” correctly, I can blame Bungie. Thanks guys.)

So, there's two important takeaways, first, going back to Mjolnir for a second, Norse myth is supposed to be funny. I don't have any academic citations to say, “wait, this might be a pun,” I just have my experience going through compilations of Norse myth, and, it would not be out of character for the material. This is something that gets lost from a lot of myth, and also from a lot of fantasy writing.

Case in point, Odin's spear was named, Gungnir, which translates to, “the rocking,” “shaking,” or “swaying.” It referred to the fear that the weapon instilled in its foes. This wasn't a supernatural power of the weapon itself, but rather an indication of how damn scary the spear was supposed to be. It's actual power was unerring accuracy. If thrown, it would always strike its mark.

A lot of these mythical weapons (at least, Gugnir, Mjolnir, and Excalibur) all had supernatural powers associated with them. Their names reflected those powers. Excalibur could cut through anything, which starts to make Caledfwlch a lot less awkwardly poetic, and far more on point. Now, it's quite possible the name came first and the myth built up from there (especially if it was a real item at some point in the distant past), but the name is an expression in of the myth. This is a lot more apparent with the Norse examples, as their names were references to the artifacts' powers.

So, when writing fantasy, it's okay to name your mythical artifacts something slightly witty, or even roll in a subtle pun, if the mythology of your setting supports that attitude. It's also a good idea to consider giving your mythic weapons distinctive supernatural reputations. It doesn't matter if those reputations are entirely real or the result of centuries of mythological embellishment, but there needs to actually be a myth around your mythic artifact. (And part of the reason Norse myth comes up so frequently is that the Aesir collected artifacts like an unusually homicidal D&D party. There are a lot of weird and wacky artifacts in Norse myth, and each one of them has an entire story about where it came from, and what it does.)

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. Patrons get early access to new posts (though, this specific post is a bit of an exception), and direct access to us through Discord. If you’d like to support us, please consider becoming a Patron.

#Starke answers #how to fight write #writing advice #writing reference #writing tips #myth #norse mythology #mythic artifacts

525 notes · View notes

ngihtshade · 8 months

Text

lil explanation on the Pyrite headcannon thing

mb for the fact this took me so long to actually make, got caught up in other things and my silly brain got distracted, but i will gladly explain some things about the Pyrite headcanon-theory of mine!

as a small bonus, i made a little banner of sorts for the google doc i am making on this, so yall get to look at that too. i will most likely make the document public soon enough, but dont expect anything like, tomorrow.

for the actual little headcanon-theory, it mainly revolved around the fact that the written spell for the Pyrite mask feels oddly specific with the first part, but also not specific enough. mentioning that the user turns into a "female SkyWing named Pyrite" just feels too specific, and this is before the Hailstorm imprisonment. but also, the fact it mentions a name and gender and not scale color is odd to me. why does Pyrite have peach-colored scales? There arent any other SkyWings in the series as far as i know that have that similar almost yellow scale color, so it seems odd that it would be the "default."

this is mainly where my theory stemmed from, that the dragon known as Pyrite was once a real dragon, likely also someone important and/or someone who has died. since the fact that the second part of the spell was made for Hailstorm, the mask couldve had a different use before then. the wording suggests wanting to possibly turn one dragon into another, that "another" being Pyrite.

with this as my starting point, i built up the idea of General Pyrite, an important war general that had died during the War of SandWing Succession. so with this, the Pyrite mask's original goal couldve been to bring back that general from the dead. maybe it worked, maybe it didnt. id like to save more of her backstory for when i get the document completed, but thats basically my thought process so far!

also, i want to acknowledge the fact that there is so much more that could be done with Pyrite. during the brainstorming for General Pyrite, i came up with a few other ideas for possible origins of the Pyrite mask, some of which being:

*Pyrite was Chameleon's first attempt at making one of his shapes.

*Pyrite couldve originally been a tool used to spy within the Sky Kingdom, as Soar wouldve been known to be close to the Queen.

*Pyrite was simply a commoner and there were no specific dragons in mind to base the Pyrite mask off of, and by chance a random dragon that existed at some point was chosen to be the face of it.

^stemming from the theory above, this could mean that Chameleon's shapes were also enchanted with similar wording as the Pyrite mask. this means that all of the dragons Chameleon turns into couldve also been real dragons.

those are just a few things i brainstormed, there is definitely potential for a lot more, and id like to hear you guy's thoughts on this! i may end up developing some of those other theories alongside General Pyrite, though most likely not enough to make another document for.

feel free to ask me questions about anything above, id gladly answer!

#wings of fire #headcanon #wings of fire theory #pyrite is such a goofy gal honestly #i love her #General Pyrite #digital art #wof #wings of fire pyrite #theory #wings of fire headcanon #artwork

97 notes · View notes

caffeinelemur · 3 hours

Text

Stolitz Communication Styles

I feel like I need to talk about this.

Stolas’ high education and verbal gymnastics, versus Blitzø’s lack of equivalent education, dyslexia, and difficulty expressing emotions, especially through words. Because it plays a huge part in why they haven’t been, and still aren’t, communicating effectively. Also both of them are neurodivergent as fuck and communication is a bitch for us anyway.

Specifically, this is a dive into that different classes/mindsets dynamic, leading up to a look at that text conversation at the end of Western Energy, and how it leads into their possible growth.

From the very start of the series, Blitzø shows that he has difficulty with writing/spelling and prefers verbal communication. (Even if we look outside the instagrams, which are not technically canon.) The first episode has the billboard that was entirely speech-to-text and not proofread, (he’s too uncomfortable writing that big of a message out, and he thought it was easier to just say it, and was thus not equipped to proofread or edit it, as that would mean he was capable of knowing how to write it out correctly in the first place), his text messages and notes are generally short and often full of typos and phonetic spelling, and his whiteboard is usually covered in doodles and small attempts at writing that varies in levels of spelling prowess. He uses pictographs to help in proving his point or explaining his thought process. He has trouble expressing himself verbally, as his true feelings are expressed through actions, but his direct, vulgar, and often angry or insensitive wording and tone make it difficult for most people to see past this to his actual true feelings, (not to mention he often lies to others and to himself about those anyway). Issues with tone and blunt speech are a big thing with neurodivergent people, autistic and ADHD people especially, of which I think Blitzø is both. Stan an AuDHD king.

Stolas is rich, highly educated, and spent much of his life, especially early on, reading books instead of socializing. His house basically doubles as a library. He said himself that he “loves words”, and got excited about reading legal documents. He uses flowery, posh language and carefully talks around other people using this skill. His emotionally abusive past, both with his father and with Stella, make him a careful people-pleaser, and so he’s constantly giving others the upper hand in a conversation, more give than take, in attempts to not anger or have his intentions misunderstood and then incite said anger. A common thing in both abuse victims and neurodivergent people, especially autistic people, which Stolas clearly is. He does also have issues with tone and knowing when he should and shouldn’t say certain things, and he can often misunderstand others’ points and questions, and then answers or responds too bluntly or literally. Hashtag Just Autism Things.

Blitzø is an imp, the lowest class alongside hellhounds, and was raised in a circus. He clearly did not grow up wealthy in any respect (as his father resorted to selling his son and stealing from the fucking Ars Goetia so quickly, though that could also be attributed to just being living trash), nor is he particularly affluent now, as his small apartment has literally one bedroom, for Loona, and he sleeps on the couch. He outright says he can’t afford art classes. He hasn’t had the same level of educational opportunities as Stolas. On top of that, he’s also dyslexic, based on how, when he does write, it’s either written phonetically, as he would say the word, or he gets letters flipped around. He can write coherently, he’s not illiterate, but usually only when he tries really hard. He mixes capitals and lowercase in the same word sometimes. He’s even worse at texting than he is at writing by hand, with many typos, and resorting to text-speak abbreviations and emojis to lessen the amount of time he has to take trying to type shit out, and, again, doesn’t proofread.

Taking all of this into account, Blitzø is not going to understand a lot of what Stolas says when he uses larger words and talks around a point, especially since, unlike Stolas most of the time, Blitzø is very direct and uncensored when he talks (as in, no brain-to-mouth filter, but also he uses vulgarity in place of more eloquent speech), and when he is trying to say things with actual forethought, he ends up stuttering and has trouble finding the right words (ADHD brain fail ftw), and then gets angry at himself, and occasionally takes it out on others too (poor Moxxie). Stolas tries to talk around the point and backtracks his own words even more in stressful or emotional situations, giving more ground to the other, and this difference in stress response plays a part in their misunderstanding and inability to see from the other’s perspective.

In the first episode, during Stolas’ inopportune phone call, Blitzø thinks he’s being insulted when Stolas uses the word “grimoire,” because he doesn’t know it and always jumps to this conclusion, then has to get Stolas to stop using flowery language to talk around the point by telling him to “stop using your fancy ass rich people talk,” and Stolas has to change the way he’s been speaking to be more direct and clear. (He doesn’t retain this information for later, sadly).

All of this, to talk about the post-Ozzie’s text conversations. We know several things now:

1) Blitzø is not good with spelling and is more comfortable using pictographs to make his point, which you can’t do in a text. He’s also uncomfortable with honest emotional expression and has problems with tone.

2) Stolas uses overly flowery and complicated language to express himself, leading to paragraphs of talking around the main point in an attempt to explain his meaning, often to the extent that it’s extremely unclear what the point is that he’s actually trying to get to. This gets worse when he’s trying too hard to express himself or is thinking too much about the other person’s response.

3) They both have little experience with conversation of an emotional nature that’s not coming with some sort of protective front (Stolas’ open-ended people-pleasing statements, Blitzø’s use of false anger and vulgarity to push people away), so when they do try to say something without the mask, the other is unequipped for the change and misunderstands the intentions, especially when it’s through text.

Blitzø is uncomfortable with writing and especially with texting, and so says very little, using short abbreviated text-speak and emojis to express himself, like he would with his drawings. Stolas overexplains and writes paragraphs of vague statements and loquaciousness in an attempt to get a point across. These are very different approaches to the situation, and from the other’s perspective they come across differently than they intend, due to the conflicting communication styles.

So.

In the text conversations we see in Western Energy, Blitzø says very little, and doesn’t initiates the conversation. Stolas sends walls of text, overexplaining and going back and forth on his intent and the purpose of the text.

Now, we know that Stolas is trying to give Blitzø space and options, and clearly cares a lot about his feelings, and is going out of his way to make sure he’s comfortable with the situation. In doing so, he gives him several outs, minimizes the entire experience at Ozzie’s at his own expense (and therefore Blitzø’s, but he doesn’t understand that yet), and pokes at the idea of talking emotionally far too soon for Blitzø, who is freshly re-traumatizing himself from said experience at Ozzie’s.

Stolas, from his own perspective, is giving so much and getting very little in return (a common theme in his life). He would see this lack of reciprocity in communication as lack of interest or being upset. A common thing irl, it’s easy to read a “K” after a long emotional message as a negative or indifferent response, regardless of the other party’s true feelings. (Which is possibly why a lot of people get upset on Stolas’ behalf in this moment, thinking Blitzø doesn’t care as much about Stolas as Stolas does him. It’s a common thing to experience. It’s not true, though.)

Meanwhile, Blitzø already hates writing, is bad at expressing himself in general, and reads into everything as negative. He thinks that when someone says something he doesn’t fully understand that they’re insulting him or making fun of him, or he misunderstands the intention and wording to be an insult (tonal and indirect or vague speech issues), like with that first phone call with Stolas, the “that’s what she said” joke Loona made, and Crimson’s mention of hearing things about him. He has a lifetime of evidence to back up this thought process. He is constantly demeaned and insulted by larger Hell society, and was treated as unworthy and lesser since childhood. He also just fucking hates himself and blames himself for everything. He’s not gonna suddenly gush his feelings, especially over text. He’s also gonna read into others’ words extremely negatively, until the true meaning is explicitly explained to him. Which isn’t very likely in a text conversation, when he’s not going to ask for proper clarification and the other party can’t tell that he’s misconstruing the intention and so doesn’t know they need to explain more anyway.

So, he isn’t going to initiate a text conversation unless it’s for a serious reason. He clearly doesn’t use it as a method of conversation as much as a quick way to get in touch with other people and exchange information (ex- his seemingly “impossible to misunderstand” text to Loopty in C.H.E.R.U.B. & his conversation about the portal with Millie in Seeing Stars). In Blitzø’s eyes, Stolas says "hey this is/isn’t happening", and he says "ok got the info" and he moves on from there. Information exchange. Then Stolas starts trying too hard, after Ozzie’s, to take his feelings into account without fully understanding Blitzø’s feelings to begin with, and starts backtracking and talking around the point again. He already got Blitzø’s reply, but then backtracks, which doesn’t give Blitzø the direct information he needs, leading to him misunderstand the proffered options as a dismissal instead of a clear confirmation with the option for him to refuse. Blitzø already is going to have issues reading/fully understanding the long wordy messages Stolas sends, he isn’t going to understand the nuance that Stolas’ specific phrasing is trying to say, and is going to see a “but you don’t have to/only if you want” attempt at giving him autonomy and boundaries, as a “don’t/I don’t want you to” full negation.

Stolas is also downplaying their experience at Ozzie’s, which is not only negating his own traumatic experiences with being shamed and insulted (not the healthiest mindset), but also minimizes Blitzø’s feelings and experience then as a result. Blitzø is going to see this as confirmation that it wasn’t as important/emotionally painful to Stolas as it was to Blitzø. Stolas making light of a situation that started a breakdown for Blitzø just proves to Blitzø that he’s the one overreacting, and that Stolas does find him less important, as the entire situation was already about Stolas valuing him less, in his eyes.

Stolas trying to overexplain and backtrack in the lack of access to Blitzø’s own thoughts is hurting them both in this situation. None of his pushing and flip-flopping is going to make Blitzø more eager to initiate a conversation or respond more, especially through a form he’s uncomfortable with using. And this makes Stolas feel unheard and undervalued, which leads to him try even harder, which leads to Blitzø shutting himself off even more, and so on. A lovely miscommunication feedback loop.

And knowing all of this is what makes that last text so important.

Blitzø initates the conversation for the first time. He writes what is, for him, a full sentence, with an emoji. He’s expressing himself as best he can, and is showing his actual feelings in the message. He’s going out of his way to say something to Stolas.

Which then… Stolas overwhelms him with more emotions and words. He’s not comfortable with emotional conversation and too much at once would freak him out, and the immediate upfront honest thoughts Stolas sends in the wake of Blitzø’s own emotional expression aren’t what he necessarily needs or wants to deal with, especially so soon after that worldview-shattering realization, the following guilt spiral, and the subsequent opening up that the first text is.

Yet he then, in spite of these hurdles, starts to reply.

But he gives up.

We don’t know for sure what he was going to say, but an easy read of his thoughts would be: he tried to express his feelings again in some way, was failing to do it right, was overwhelmed with feelings he didn’t know how to handle, and angrily gave up. Probably cursing himself out for even trying.

It’s not callous or uncaring or lacking reciprocity. It’s the full opposite. He’s trying so hard, but failing again. He cares so much and is incapable of expressing it verbally and unable to receive similar care in return.

Look back to the other time he tried this hard to write something emotional. The letter for Fizz. The love letter. And see how that situation went? He got overwhelmed, angry at everything and at himself for thinking he could try at all, and it all ended in fucking disaster. That he blames himself for. That he hates himself for. But here he tried to do it again anyway, while thinking, again, what happened to Stolas was his fault. That one message means so fucking much.

To Blitzø, the idea of visiting Stolas in the hospital was out of the question entirely, and him being asked to so immediately and candidly would make his guilty brain fall over itself even more. He’s never been allowed to visit his loved ones in the hospital, and the entire reason they were hospitalized to begin with was because of Blitzø, so how could this situation be any different? He wasn’t allowed to visit Fizz or Barbie, people who at least at one point he believed cared about him, so he’s definitely not going to be allowed to visit Stolas, who he already thinks doesn’t really give a shit.

That text was the best he could do at that time.

To really communicate effectively, these two need to sit down in front of each other and actually explain where they’re coming from. The lack of knowledge of the other’s position and situation, both in their past and currently in this relationship, is hurting them, and making understanding each other more difficult. The class difference and the differences in upbringing, despite both having garbage fathers and fucking meeting each other as children, are impeding their understanding and view of the other. Both Stolas’ obliviousness toward the actual differences in station and opportunity between him and imps as a whole, and inability to realize Blitzø’s personal difficulties with communication (based in the same place he’s blind to), and Blitzø’s (valid) disdain for the upper class and his view of the stronger, and especially of Stolas, as too good and important to bother with him and too powerful to feel actual pain, are the things they need to fucking address.

Blitzø already got this worldview fucked with, between seeing Stolas worry so much over his daughter, and then actually getting badly hurt. He now knows Stolas can care, and that he can feel pain, and that makes him at least peripherally aware that he’s able to be emotionally hurt.

By Blitzø.

Stolas, meanwhile, is vaguely at the point of comprehending he holds more power in their dynamic because of their differences in status, and him holding the key to Blitzø’s entire business and livelihood. He now knows Blitzø didn’t think he wanted anything other than sex, because of his hasty and overly selfish attempt at keeping him around. And it was a sex deal! He realizes he was wrong for holding that over Blitzø and that his actions and words in the past helped cause the misunderstanding that he didn’t care for Blitzø past getting sexual favors.

Stolas is gonna try to fix this power imbalance by giving up the entire premise of their current relationship, in the vain hope Blitzø will understand and then reciprocate his actual feelings, while Blitzø is now vaguely trying to actively prove he gives a shit about people, even while unsure of Stolas’ feelings toward him, and the result of these intentions clashing is gonna be a goddamn mess, unless miraculously they can communicate around the inevitable misunderstanding.

Please somebody let them explain themselves and have the other fucking listen.

They both love each other, but are fucked up from trauma and are neurodivergent, so they express themselves differently and can barely figure out their own shit, let alone explain it to the other. Get therapy and try new communication styles.

But they are slowly learning. They have the tools and ability to figure this out if they both try. It’s not futile. It just might take some fuck ups and more time to fully get there.

Sincerely, an AuDHD emotional abuse victim that sees themself in both of these idiots and wants to scream.

#caff rants #helluva boss #the fuck are the tags even #stolitz #helluva boss blitzø #helluva boss stolas #blitzø has too many spelling options i dont want to tag all of them #helluva boss blitz #helluva boss blitzo #im bad at tagging #i just saw the trailer after i wrote this so like im pulling it out if my drafts before the emotional shitstorm that approaches #I hope this made sense

12 notes · View notes

just-some-trans-nobody · 10 months

Text

Yautja x trans read on period part 2

Looks like I'm making three parts cause I got some great suggestion's for a male yautja from @empressnarria that I just had to write, than you for the amazing suggestion. The next part will be a female yautja.

Same warnings as the first part but of course I'll add them to this one.

Warnings: blood, swearing, bones, period,

Like always

Minors don't interact!!!

This like the first part is just a whole lot of fluff from your yautja mate.

Formated on a phone, sorry if it looks wonky on different devices. Not spell checked, I'll fix any if anyone finds them.

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

Male Yautja

Having cravings your mate can't get from his planet? He's flying off to earth to get you anything you want to eat and extra just in case. If your craving different stuff and ask him about those when he gets back he'll sigh and march right back into his ship to get that too.

He will want to try what you get though, it must be good if he had to go all the way to earth to get it, it was worth it though to see how happy you were he would do it again of you asked him. When he tried your chocolate icecream that seemed to have more chocolate added to it than possible he reeled back holding his head. It hurt! Why were you eating something that causes pain!? He was so confused when he heard you laughing at him, he looked like a kicked puppy as he held his head. You had to explain to him that eating ice cream to fast causes brain freeze and it will pass.

He won't eat ice cream again not trusting it. However he wouldn't say no to a little if you spoon feed him it.

Now if you have a meat craving that he can get on board with he'll jump up and race out the door to go hunt the biggest thing he can find to bring back to you. He'll be a little disappointed that you ask him to cook the meat first but then remembers oomans can't eat raw meat like he can. He won't complain about it again.

Every time your on your period he'll make a nest of pelts and pillows, your not allowed to get up he's snuggling you and pampering you the whole time.

If your being extra snuggly when you get junk food craving that you can only get from earth he'll whine lightlgly not wanting to stop cuddling you but he'll get up and go, your his special little mate, he'd fight the sun for you. If space had speeding laws he'd break each one rushing to and from earth to get you your junk food.

Having bad cramps? He's cooing softly as he gently places his warm hand on your stomach applying a small amount of pressure. Expect lots of kisses and nuzzles until your cramps pass you by. He feels awful that you have to go through this, he worries he doesn't do enough. Please tell him how much you appreciate him big scary alien men need praise and appreciation too.

Bleeding everywhere and feeling awful about it? Don't worry, he got scared the forst time he smelled your blood but now he's used to the scent. It's odd how sweet is smells compared to normal blood. He kinda likes it? He doesn't want to admit that though in case it embarrassed you. Any spilled blood he'll clean it up no problem don't worry about it ooman mate he got this.

Anyone sniffing around because if the sweet blood in the air quickly gets a growling male in the face. Will fight anyone to protect his little mate in a time of weakness.

He may have read a few ooman articles to learn more, apparently it helps oomans to swear to deal with pain? Maybe try cursing? He has no idea what most of these words your saying it but it seems to be working? No idea what a cock sucking mother fuck is but you sure did say it a lot.

Chocolate and teddy bears seem to be a thing that helps according to this ooman document. He doesn't trust the chocolate ice cream any more but he'll get you other chocolaty things. Fruit is good for oomans, chocolate covered strawberries seem like a good idea. Getting you a couple new stuffed animals he'll present them to you as if he had hunted them. He was delighted when you happily took the items.

Sense your laying around in bed all day you wouldn't mind if he cleaned his trophies in the bedroom then right? He claims it's so he can be there if you need his help but he mostly wants to show off his trophies. If you comment about the skulls while snuggled in the stuffed animals he gave you with a heating pad, though he's jealous of the heating pad, he'll be delighted if you talk about his trophies. Talking is good, talking means your not dying, please don't die on him. He knows your period won't kill you but they way you act some times makes him think your about to die.

If you cry at all because of your hormones he will panic. He has no idea what to do. Pulling you into his chest he'll burry your face in his plump chest. Oh you stopped crying, that's good, why are you kneading his chest though?

If you have a couch and tv at his ship or home at his planet expect lazy cuddles while watching tv. Cooking shows are boring to him he prefers raw food anyway. Now reality tv that he likes, he likes it even more when the petty people on the tv start fighting each other. Don't tell him it's all fake he won't understand and he'll get confused.

Oh no you bleed though onto your favorite comfy pants and the bloods not coming. Please don't cry he's rushing out to earth to search every for at least five more pairs for you. Don't worry he'll buy you as many as you need. He won't through the ruined pants out, he'll still keep trying to get the blood out if it held meaning to you. If he manages to get the blood out he'll present it to you so happily his hard work paid off.

If you ask for a pet while on your period he's going to any planet he needs to go to for it and will present it to moment he gets back. He couldn't wait he wanted to see the look of joy on your face, it was worth it. Might get a little jealous if you give the pet more kisses than you give him. Please give him more kisses.

101 notes · View notes

carriesthewind · 11 months

Note

ok so i didnt know about the first guy (sorry i cant remember how to spell his name ✌😔) not being licensed to practice law. that changes absolutely everything in my perception of this. i thought they were equals here, yknow? as i said, i know very little about law, much less american law, i assumed that maybe you sometimes have a coworker look over and cosign stuff. but he was in some way OVERSEEING the other guy??? for 27 years???? why didnt you help him get licenced??? in those 27 years??? if you thought he could be trusted enough to sign his work without reading??? absolutely agree there is no excuse for this, and while yeah, a very human thing to do still, what the hell

and yeah. i obviously feel worst for the original client. from the little information i knew about them from your post, i was rooting for 'em, bc i will always root for the little guy seeking retribution from a large company like an airline. i hope their case doesnt get thrown out bc of this, and that they will be able to find/afford better legal counsel. honestly i hope they get their money back, bc i know from exp that legal costs are A LOT

Ah! So this is a misunderstanding from me not being clear, sorry.

Because the law in the U.S. is a weird mess where you have federal law and then each states have their own individual laws, lawyers in the U.S. don't get a general license to practice law. Instead, lawyers are admitted (or "barred") in individual jurisdictions. So lawyers are licensed to practice in individual state(s). E.g. Attorney Smith may be licensed to practice in New York, and Attorney Jones may be licensed to practice in California. If Attorney Jones has a client with a case in New York, they normally couldn't represent their client in that New York case, because even though they are a licensed attorney, they are not licensed to practice in the state of New York. However, they could be admitted "pro hac vice" (e.g. on a temporary matter, normally for a single case or matter), which usually requires the out-of-state attorney to have "local counsel" - an attorney who is admitted in the state who is the attorney of record in the case.

Since federal courts are a different jurisdiction from state courts, even if they are covering the same geographical area, just because an attorney is licensed to practice in state court, they are not automatically licensed to practice in the local federal court. So in this case, LoDuca was licensed to practice in both the state of New York and the Southern District of New York (the federal court where this case is taking place). However, Schwartz was only admitted in the state of New York.

So Schwartz is a barred attorney, and he is licensed to practice law. He just isn't licensed to practice law in the court that this case was in.

Now, being admitted to the local federal court is usually pretty simple, especially pro hac vice. I just checked the rules for the Southern District of New York - it should have been trivially easy to do. He didn't even need local counsel. Basically he just needed to file a quick motion, fill out an affidavit, submit a certificate of good standing from the New York state bar, and pay a couple hundred bucks. It seems like he just didn't do so in this case because these clowns were cutting every single corner they could.

So to be admitted to practice in SDNY, Schwartz wouldn't have had to prove any additional legal knowledge (although he should have, you know, read the local rules, at a minimum). But because he didn't bother to get admitted pro hac vice, LoDuca entered an appearance as the plaintiff's attorney and filed all of Schwartz's motions for him, and signed them as his filings. And therefore, LoDuca became responsible for the content of all of those filings, because he was the attorney of record in the case, and they became all of his motions and submissions. So even though normally, yes, they would be coworkers, when LoDuca agreed to put his name and license on all these documents, he should have been overseeing and checking all his work.

I hope that helps clarify the issue, and wasn't too technical or confusing!

I've written more about the original client's options here.

#ask #2 Stupid 2 Sanction

63 notes · View notes

sketching-shark · 8 months

Note

Dunno if someone has asked this before. But Wukong and Macaque are the same person, and they are seen like this, but why Macaque dies if they were the same? Wukong is immortal so, if they had the same powers, knowledge and stuff, Macaque had also the immortal thing, right? But why he dies? Or how is this?

A good question anon! So from what I know the short answer is that in the True and False Monkey King arc, this is really more about the Monkey King metaphorically killing the monstrous side of his own nature as part of his journey to Enlightenment. It pays to remember, after all, that besides SWK being the "monkey of the mind," LEMH had managed to finagle himself into a position where he could be both a yaoguai warlord AND a religious pilgrim, i.e. he was potentially living out all the lives SWK wanted but couldn't have, but only achieved that by well being a selfish monster that treated others as tools or obstacles (and sometimes snacks) in his path towards personal glory. In this manner, and even though it's explicitly said that the six-eared macaque is a different species than the intelligent stone monkey (which SWK apparently drove to extinction by killing his doppelganger lmao), LEMH is very much acting as SWK's evil clone/almost Jungian "shadow self"/ the other side of the Buddhist two hearts/minds metaphor that the Monkey King must overcome in order to cultivate a true Buddhist nature in himself.

That's my little ramble, but the scholar Hongmei Sun has answered this question far better than I ever could. As such, here's her words on the subject of how Sun Wukong and the Six-Eared Macaque act as doubles & what's behind the death of LEMH at the hands of SWK:

"In the case of the second ‘exile,’ the episode of the ‘double-mind monkey’ (erxin yuan), a fake Wukong commits a series of monstrous crimes in his name. While one ‘mind monkey’ is staking with the Bodhisattva, the other ‘mind monkey’ goes to strike the master Tripitaka unconscious, takes his travel documents, returns to the Flower-Fruit Mountain, and sets up another pilgrim band, ready for his own journey to the West. The resemblance of the two ‘mind monkeys’ deceives everyone except the Buddha, who sees through the fake Wukong and recognizes him as a six-eared macaque (liuer mihou). The use of a double of Wukong enables the narrative to literally grant the monkey the facility to be self-contradictory, with one Monkey being a pious follower of Tripitaka, and the other a monster who is even capable of beating his master. At the culmination of this episode, Sun Wukong uses his rod to kill the six-eared macaque despite the fact that the macaque had already been captured by Buddha’s golden almsbowl—a constraining weapon—and submitted to Buddha’s control, which seems out of character for the ‘good’ Monkey. One feasible explanation would be that it is an action of eliminating the monster in him, indicating that he is getting closer to achieving Buddhahood at this point in the journey. However, this explanation does not negate another one: that he kills the six-eared macaque because the latter has copied him too closely, the best demon among the ones that Monkey has conquered. By killing his rival who resembles himself, he plays the norm of self-contradiction to an extreme...”

“At that very moment the actual smallness of the monkey’s bloated self is demonstrated in the shadow of the Buddha’s fingers, the overblown ‘mind monkey’ is reduced to finite proportions, and his rehabilitative imprisonment under Five Phases Mountain begins. The lesson demonstrates to him that, however far the ‘cloud-somersault’ can reach, it would also represent his own unbreakable boundary. The Buddha’s fingers serve as an index, revealing to the monkey that what beats him is how own self. Later this indexing role of Buddha’s hand is taken over by the Five Phases Mountain, and after that the headband. Whenever Tripitaka recites the spell, Monkey is reminded of his own limits and the impossibility of breaking them, even with his rod. In the case of the six-eared macaque, one can reach an opposite explanation as to why Wukong chooses to kill him: to free himself. Just as in the submission of Wukong, Buddha beats the six-eared macaque at his forte. Although the fake Wukong is strong in taking forms of others and had succeeded in confusing everyone else, the Buddha is able to exactly identify this monkey’s original form: someone belonging to none of the ten categories in the universe, neither the five immortals (wu xian) nor the five creatures (wu chong). There are four kinds of monkeys who ‘are not classified in the ten species, nor are the contained in the names between Heaven and Earth,’ among which was the first, ‘the intelligent stone monkey (lingming shihou), who knows transformations, recognizes the seasons, discerns the advantages of earth, and is able to alter the course of planets and stars,’ and the fourth, ‘the six-eared macaque, who has a sensitive ear, discernment of fundamental principles, knowledge of past and future, and comprehension of all things.’ This recognition announces the six-eared macaque’s failure as one who has been trying to use his disguise to erase the boundary of his self while taking up the identity of Wukong. It also announces once again the failure of Wukong, who although not belonging to any of the ten species between heaven and earth, still falls into one of the in-between types that the Buddha names: the intelligent stone monkey, indeed a peer of the six-eared macaque. Therefore by killing the six-eared macaque, Wukong not only kills a monster who has tried to cross proper borders, but he also kills a self whose boundary has just been pinned down. This action of self-annihilation is in this sense an effort in defiance of any classification.”

#anon answered #xiyouji #journey to the west #jttw #sun wukong #six eared macaque #hongmei sun #transforming monkey #I guess if you wanted to be really literal & make them completely separate characters #then SWK could bonk LEMH to death on account of LEMH not eating as many immortality-granting treats as SWK #but I believe that this stands as one of literature's oldest examples of the 'evil clone' trope #especially with LEMH's whole attempt to murder-replace SWK #so it's really more about what version of SWK/what version of the self would become the “true” one

30 notes · View notes

bloody-bee-tea · 11 months

Text

Tiny Bee~k 2023 Day 2 - On the dot

Alhaitham is late.

Usually three minutes are not something Cyno would be concerned with but this is different. It’s three minutes after Alhaitham clocks out and if he’s late then that can only spell trouble.

Cyno knows that Alhaitham is very punctual when it concerns clocking out of work; he seems to have an innate feeling for when it’s enough and he’s always right. On the dot, he gets up and declares the work day done, no matter who is talking or what documents are still on his table.

It’s now five minutes after the appointed time and there is still no sight of Alhaitham, even when Cyno rounds a corner to look for him.

That must mean something is wrong.

Alhaitham is not one to come late to their meeting—especially not given how busy they normally are—and if he knew beforehand that he would be late then he would have found a way to inform Cyno, either by message or by messenger.

Cyno’s mind starts to whir. If Alhaitham is late because of something that happened at the office, then it has the potential to upturn their hard-won peace and Cyno should definitely be present for it. If Alhaitham is late because someone had the glorious idea to kidnap him, then they were incredibly stupid and Cyno will definitely be there to bring justice to them. If Alhaitham is late because he somehow overworked himself or otherwise fell sick and didn’t take a day off, then there will be words to be had and Cyno will yell most of them at him.

But for any of these options to be proven true, he needs to find Alhaitham first. Thankfully it’s Cyno’s job to find people and even though he’s more worried than anything at the moment, his matra training pays off.

His mind whirrs, sifting through all the possibilities, and he’s keenly aware of the fact that every lost minute could make the difference should they be faced with an abduction.

So Cyno makes his way to Alhaitham’s office; he makes sure to keep his steps just as hurried as they normally are because it wouldn’t do to tip anyone off that something might be wrong.

He doesn’t need a scene and he doesn’t need reinforcements until he knows exactly what he’s dealing with.

Luckily for Cyno, Alhaitham is a creature of habit and while it’s usually a source of some gentle teasing for Cyno, right now he’s incredibly glad for it, because it means that he can be certain that if Alhaitham was on the way to meet him, he would run into him.

But there is no sight of Alhaitham anywhere and by the time his office comes into view Cyno has to hold back from running.

Still, he stops in front of the door, noticing that it’s slightly ajar, and he holds his breath as he listens. He can make out the sound of shuffling paper but apart from that Cyno isn’t able to get any hints.

There could of course be an intruder in Alhaitham’s office, trying to find—or hide—some documents but to be certain would mean to step into the office.

And so that is exactly what Cyno does. He doesn’t brandish his spear immediately, but he can feel the crackling of electro at the tips of his fingers.

It only fizzles out when he comes face to face with the person in the office.

“Alhaitham?” he asks, his voice incredulous, because Alhaitham is still seated behind the desk, pen and paper in hand and it doesn’t look at all as if he’s aware that his working hours are over.

He must be sick, then.

“Cyno,” Alhaitham greets him before his eyes dart away to the clock. “I didn’t realise it was that late already, I apologise.”

“Alhaitham, are you sick?” Cyno asks, rounding the desk to put a hand to Alhaitham’s forehead to check his temperature.

Alhaitham blinks at him, clearly confused by Cyno’s question and that makes Cyno even more convinced that he must be ill with something.

“What are you talking about, I’m perfectly alright,” Alhaitham finally says, raising his own hand to pull Cyno’s away from his forehead before he pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “What has gotten into you?”

“You’re late,” is all Cyno says, because it’s explanation enough and the grimace on Alhaitham’s face tells him that he knows it as well.

“I apologise,” he repeats, but he offers no explanation at all and that is suspicious in a very different way.

Cyno has convinced himself that Alhaitham is not burning up and his other actions don’t seem to be impacted by a sickness either, so it’s time for another path.

“What are you working on?” Cyno asks, craning his head a little bit to see the paper Alhaitham still has in his hand, but before he can catch whatever is written on it, Alhaitham has put it down on the desk, face-down.

Suspicious, indeed.

“It’s nothing,” Alhaitham says and then immediately amends his own statement, clearly knowing that it’s not enough to satisfy Cyno. “It’s nothing that should have kept me away from you for so long.”

Cyno knows that he should always anticipate it—Alhaitham is from Haravatat after all—but it always leaves him a little bit flustered when he states it so clearly.

“Don’t be ridiculous. If it’s something that needs to be done, then let me help, maybe you’ll get it off your desk quicker that way.”

Cyno starts to reach out for the paper, but Alhaitham intercepts him, threading their fingers together.

“There really is no need for it. I’ll review it tomorrow. I simply lost a bit of time, focusing on it, that’s all. We can leave now. Our dinner reservation will still hold, right?”

“I doubt that Lambad gave our table away just because we’re ten minutes late. It’s Thursday after all.”

They always have dinner together on Thursday.

“Then let’s leave,” Alhaitham decides, getting up and walking around the table, trusting Cyno to follow him.

He clearly didn’t count on Cyno twisting around to grab the sheet of paper from the table.

It’s a report for the matra and Cyno turns betrayed eyes towards Alhaitham.

“Is my work not good enough? Do you have to sort through these beforehand so we don’t mess up?”

Cyno isn’t sure how that makes him feel—though the hurt is there, under everything else—and he wants to give Alhaitham a chance to explain.

“It’s not that,” Alhaitham says with a sigh and tugs Cyno close.

Cyno goes, but not quite as willingly as he normally does.

“Then what is it?” he demands to know and shakes the report into Alhaitham’s face. “Because this report hasn’t been to the matra office yet. Are you hiding something?”

Even as he says it, Cyno scans the paper, paying a bit more attention to what it actually says than before. Nothing that is written down would indicate an entanglement with Alhaitham and it only leaves Cyno more confused.

“This is standard matra stuff. Why does it have to cross the desk of the Acting Grand Sage before it makes its way to us?” Cyno asks. “Has—our work not been up to par, lately?” he then asks, wondering if he has been slacking off.

Sure, he spends his free time with Alhaitham, mostly, these days, but he’s reasonably sure that it has no impact on his work. He pursues offenders just as ruthlessly as before and his matra have not mentioned anything to him either.

“Cyno, stop. I can see you overthinking this,” Alhaitham sighs out, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand, clearly unwilling to unhand Cyno.

“Then explain it to me,” Cyno says, shaking the paper in his face. “What is this doing here?”

“I have been screening all the reports for the matra, lately,” Alhaitham explains as he takes the paper out of Cyno’s hand to put it back on the desk.

“Why?”

Cyno doesn’t like how that hurt feeling is making its way up, making his skin itch with betrayal. If Alhaitham thought he wasn’t doing a good job then he should have said so!

“You’re too stressed,” Alhaitham finally says, leaning against the table and pulling Cyno between his legs. “You’re too stressed, because you’re taking too many tasks on yourself and you’re away too much.” Alhaitham’s gaze darts to the side for a moment. “I don’t like it.”

That brings Cyno up short.

“You don’t—like it,” he repeats, and now his rational thinking comes back online. “I haven’t been on that many day-long assignments lately.”

It’s not a question, but Alhaitham still nods.

“You take them on, even if they don’t require the expertise of the General Mahamatra. Your matra’s never get any experience like that.”

“And you don’t like me being away from you,” Cyno whispers, trying the words out and he’s delighted to see a faint blush on Alhaitham’s cheeks.

“It’s too frequent and not necessary. I have been scanning the reports for their urgency and difficulty and I sort them accordingly before I hand them off to Aarav.”

At that, Cyno sighs.

“He is in on it.”

“I have to make sure my judgement is correct. And he is very capable.”

Cyno can’t even deny that, because otherwise Aarav wouldn’t be his second in command but it still stings that he was going behind his back.

“Wait,” Cyno says, another thought forming in his head. “You hate working over-time. Even just a few minutes.”

“I like having you around more,” Alhaitham easily says and now it’s Cyno’s time to be embarrassed. “I can stand five more minutes of work if it means you’re going to come home with me for an entire evening.”

“You are so—unfeeling, my ass,” Cyno mutters under his breath but he can’t hold back the small smile playing around his mouth and when Alhaitham pulls him in for a kiss he certainly doesn’t resist.

“Just tell me something like this,” Cyno mumbles when they part. “I was worried. I thought someone abducted you from right under my nose.”

“Even if that were the case, I have full faith in my General Mahamatra,” Alhaitham easily gives back, and just like always when he uses that title in that specific way it leaves Cyno a little bit breathless.

“I shall overlook this then,” he decides, leaning in for another kiss. “This once.”

“How generous of you.”

(They do make it to Lambad’s tavern, but it is much later than their usual time.)

#bt writes #haino #cytham #genshin impact #tiny bee~k 2023 #established relationship #fluff #little bit of hurt/comfort #feelings

39 notes · View notes

candied-boys · 6 months

Text

Another - Rio x F! Reader Part 5

When Emma chooses another, Rio has to go home without her... But there's more awaiting him than just forgotten memories...

Themes: hurt and healing, facing the past, learning to love again, aka angst with a happy ending!

Warnings: angst, Rio route spoilers, eventual smut, written from Rio's POV

Part 4

As promised, you've dined together every morning since. Some days Valerie joins too, depending on her mood — it turns out she can be quite fussy when she first wakes, preferring her wet nurse over anyone else until she's fed. But on the days she has come, she sits in your lap while her mother coaxes her into trying nibbles of your cooking.

You've long known the joy of sharing food with someone you love, and you’re all too familiar with the way your heart races when that cherished person eats your cooking, but you never expected the thrill it would be to have this tiny picky eater smile and reach for more after finally landing on a creation she likes.

Though the time you can spend with your daughter is little, your affection for her has quickly grown to be uncontainable. It's baffling really. You've never had much interest in children. The ones playing in the streets of Rholodite never caught your attention. Despite all the dreams of your future with her, you never gave much thought to starting a family. You wanted all her time for yourself.

So why do you long to see those cheeks round with laughter and those eyes shimmer with delight? You wonder if it's merely because she showed interest in you first, or if this unfamiliar yearning to be closer to her is driven by some twisted hope that you could rewrite your past by giving her a better life.

Such are the questions that haunt you in the silence when your quill pauses its scratching across piles of documents. Like one possessed, you find yourself seeking answers whenever your duties end early enough to afford you time.

Tonight you arrive at Valerie's nursery to discover unfamiliar melodies seeping into the hallway from beyond the heavy double doors. The sweet ring of some unknown instrument mixes with unintelligible lyrics. Only when the song eventually fades do you dare to cross the threshold.

“You play beautifully. It sounds quite different from an arpa doppia. What is it?” you query softly as you approach, noting with a hint of disappointment that Valerie is already fast asleep.

“It's my mother's clàrsach. It's not as popular as it once was in Jade, but I love it,” she smiles wistfully.

Pulling up a seat next to the crib you recall, “Oh, that's right. You told me the first day I returned that your mother was from Jade. How did she end up in Benitoite?”

“You remember my father is a merchant?”

You nod, petting Valerie's angel soft hair while she continues, “He was in Jade for business negotiations and was invited to a salon hosted by an acquaintance of his trade partner. It turned out to be quite a crowded event, and when he stepped out into the gardens for a bit of fresh air he stumbled across a hushed group gathered in the pavilion at the centre.”

“Hushed?”

“They were all waiting for my mother to start playing again. He always said that he thought she'd cast a spell over him because he walked right up to her when she finished the next song to ask for her hand in marriage,” she giggles.

“In front of all those people?!” you blurt and instantly check you didn't wake the baby.

“Yes, and in Benitoitian too! She didn't understand a word he said, but a few gentlemen in the crowd did and as you can imagine they didn't appreciate it.”

“How did they end up together if they couldn't even communicate?”

“He has quite the long-suffering constitution,” she shrugs, and you notice the tension that used to linger in her posture when around you has faded over the few months.

“Ah, so he's stubborn?” you conclude.

“Very. He postponed his return and began studying the language, all the while trying to find a way to meet her again.”

“But you can't just court a noble’s daughter as you please.”

“Exactly. He said he couldn't get her voice out of his head for weeks while he hunted down every bit of information that he could use to woo her family. In the end, he managed to arrange a business deal that brought a hefty profit to my grandfather, and in exchange was allowed to marry my mother.”

“But they didn't even know one another at that point. What if she hadn't liked him?”

“You really have changed, Valerio,” she murmurs, her expression forlorn as you catch it out of the corner of your eye. “You should know as well as anyone that neither consent nor love have ever been prerequisites for marriage.”

“It should be…” you grumble, a scowl fixed on the sleeping cherub at your side. “I'd never marry Valerie off to someone she didn't love…”

“I wouldn't either… but I don't think arranged marriages are all bad. My mother and father love one another dearly now… and I love you…”

If only it were as simple as casting a spell, you'd willingly let her bewitch you with a song just to forget the pain.

“Would you tell me…” you stumble, dredging up all the courage you have to face your past, “how it happened?”

Her delicate hues momentarily reflect the tempered sky beyond the grand window.

“Come,” she pleads with those same hues. “The days grow long. Walk with me while it's still light.”

Dusk tints the shoreline in its solemn shades where you walk arm in arm — a heavy silence filling the gaps between the kiss of the waves on the sand. You're nearly startled when her gentle voice breaks through your thoughts to draw you back to her.

Whispering well wishes, you leave your daughter with a kiss to her forehead before standing and offering your elbow to your wife.

“You know, you used to take me for walks in the evening like this when we were courting.”

“Do you mean after my mother introduced us but before the engagement?”

“Yes, though you stopped as soon as the relationship was made official…” she confesses, eyes tracing the tide line of broken shells at her feet.

It doesn't surprise you, but it still stings.

Hoping against hope, you ask warily, “Were they ever pleasant walks? What did we talk about?”

“Well, we didn't speak much. You had all my background information investigated, so there wasn't much I could tell you about my past.”

Bitterly you guess how the rest of it went, “And I had no interest in coming to know you as a person, so I didn't ask anything else, is that it?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I'd like to think you wouldn't have paid as much attention as you did had you lacked interest entirely.”

“Oh?” you echo in jaded disbelief.

“You watched my gaze, to which flowers it fell for a moment longer than to others and had bouquets of them sent to my chambers. You hung your jacket over my shoulders before I even noticed I felt chilly, telling me that it showed in the fine hairs at the nape of my neck when I asked how you knew. Little things like that…”

“That all sounds very calculated,” you reply after a moment pausing to look out over the ocean together.

“Isn't everything in life? If you calculated that paying attention and sending flowers would benefit your relationship and your future, it's hardly different than one who professes undying love and sends jewels to capture the heart of their lover. Both are intended to influence and carry forward the relationship, are they not?”

“I suppose… but at least the latter is sincere.”

Her gaze twines with yours where she looks up over your shoulder to answer, “If you weren't sincere, Valerio, you might just as well have sent any variety of flower or something else entirely. Why pay such mind to my unspoken preferences when you never had any need to win me over in the first place?”

“Why do you have such faith in me despite knowing how callous I am? Even if you fell for me because of little things like that, surely all that came after should've been enough to crush that budding affection.”

Turning into your way, she halts your step with a hand to your heart.

“Valerio, I admired you for years before your mother ever introduced us. I never loved you merely because you gave me flowers or showed me a little kindness. I fell in love with a man who battled tirelessly against inequality and unending cruelty. A man who cherished his mother with all his heart. A man capable of anything he set his mind to.”

Caring, determined, hard-working — everything that made you fall in love with her.

You of all people should know that to love means to appreciate someone for who they are whether or not they return your feelings.

Perhaps you'd thought that she'd deluded herself into believing you were kinder than you really had been so that she could cope with your death, assumed that she was in love with the idea of you rather than the wretched man you were and still are.

Oh how willingly blind you've been, refusing to face the mirror that she is. How long have you denied that her unrequited feelings for you are the perfect reflection of your own simply to avoid admitting that it is you who hurts her most.

Laying a gloved palm atop the one still pressed against your heart and cupping her soft cheek with the other, you hold her gaze tenderly.

“To be so long suffering, to have such grace... Perhaps your father was right about your mother being more than mere human for his daughter is certainly an angel.”

“Valerio?” her voice is but a whisper over the sea breeze as a silk wrapped hand wipes away a tear trailing down your face.

“All I do is bring you pain, my angel, and I'm so sorry to ask you to bear more, but if you can find it in your heart to be patient… Then please, wait for me a little longer that I may one day come to love you as much as you deserve.”

Part 6

🧡🫣🧡Tag list: @drachonia @outtayourmouth @maries-gallery @lamiefromage @tele86 @omkookie @queengiuliettafirstlady @altairring

#ikemen prince #ikepri #rio ortiz #ikemen prince rio #ikemen prince rio ortiz #ikemen rio #ikepri rio #ikepri fanfic #ikepri fanfiction

15 notes · View notes