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itsclydebitches · 2 years

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RWBY Ice Queendom Recaps: “Red, White, Black, Yellow”

Hello, RWBY fandom! It feels good to be back.

Technically I never left — still answering the occasional ask, just finished up "The Girl in the Tower" recap — but between the extra long hiatus and my continuing obsession with Our Flag Means Death, it feels like I've been out of the RWBY loop for a while. I wanted to start this post with that acknowledgement because I had assumed that's why I didn't realize that Ice Queendom had dropped the first three episodes. Sure, I got an anon asking my opinion of the reboot (AU? Rewrite? We're all a little unclear about that still), but I had thought that was just in preparation for the July 3rd premiere. So imagine my surprise when I did a bit of googling last night — just in case — and found a new trailer, then a three episode sneak peak, but it weirdly wasn’t on First, but it was on Crunchyroll, and (at the time) it was set to drop on YouTube at 1:00pm today, but only for a short period? Some fans had clearly seen the episodes already, yet there wasn't nearly the amount of posting I'd expect for a community-wide, anticipated drop, and official information seemed to be scarce ... but surely my confusion was simply a result of me taking a semi-break from keeping up with all RWBY info, right?

Ehhh...

This is an excerpt from MurderOfBirds’ tweet thread (URL posted at the end of the recap, in case tumblr is still being weird about links) and, if you've been in the RWBY community for any significant length of time, you'll understand my shock that he of all fans was calling RT out like this. To be honest, I don't have much to say beyond, "This is happening"? From what little I've gathered, fans seem to have enjoyed the IQ premiere — or at least, they haven't called for a salt and burning yet — but RT's relative success in that regard doesn't suddenly erase all the other problems surrounding RWBY as a franchise. RTX planning remains a mess, communication about upcoming projects is shoddy at best, RT's company culture is continually under fire, worries about Volume 9 and the upcoming video game haven't disappeared just because we've had little reason to discuss them lately, etc. Regardless of what we think about IQ as a story, it's coming into a tumultuous IP — to put it mildly.

Again, I fully acknowledge that I haven't been actively seeking out every bit of RWBY info lately, but the fact that I, someone who is generally working to keep up with the story, had to suddenly scramble to figure out how and when and why a big chunk of the new installment was releasing now is... not great. And apparently I'm not the only one who feels this way.

That said, let's get into the story proper. In case it's not abundantly obvious by the title, I've decided to keep these recaps separated by episode, despite 1-3 releasing as a single hour of content. You all know I can write enough for each, even with a lot of this plot being repeated. No sense in giving you all a dissertation to wade through lol.

Let's do it!

We begin, as we did originally, with Salem's voice-over telling us how the humanity of today came to be.

(Oh yay, a nice het-centric creation myth. Look, I really wasn't joking about being obsessed with OFMD right now. After months of canonical queer pirates, I'm feeling a little salty towards RWBY's version of queer rep. I won't get over it, sorry, but I promise I won't bitch about it too much.)

(Actually wait, one more point: I saw a post here — which I’ve now lost — where the author didn't seem terribly enthusiastic about IQ, but they said they'd forgive it if Blake and Yang made out in every upcoming scene and like yeah, joke-y posts are jokey-y, I love them, but AS IF. If IQ confirms Bumbleby I'll just straight up die of shock. You all can @ me in the afterlife.)

(But oh god can you IMAGINE if IQ confirmed the fandom's biggest ship before the webseries? Chaos. Calamity. An actual, defensible position for IQ being better. It would be a complete disaster, yeah... but potentially an entertaining one.)

Anyway, back to the plot. We go through a version of our opening speech and, frankly, I don't think the actress playing Salem sounds nearly as menacing as Taylor does. I've always cared more about the characters themselves than the actors playing them, so I don't have any big opinions on the casting here. This is just a little acknowledgement that, had I been watching IQ prior to RWBY, I never would have gone, "Oh, this is our villain" like I did during the webseries’ opening. At least not until the end of the episode when we get the more threatening dialogue. Regardless, the animation more than makes up for that, showing us not merely the paper-like history of humanity, grimm, and the rise of their combat capabilities, but far more visceral images like a man collapsing amidst a field of flames, very nearly succumbing to them. That sells the idea of humanity almost crumbling back to dust.

But then, “The smallest spark of hope brought forth a great light” and humanity discovers capital 'D' Dust, which allows them to maintain and spread civilization despite the grimm. Salem says that it was through their “power and ingenuity” that they secured it and I'm like... really? Because the animation just shows an almost-dead guy stumbling upon a glowing rock in the ground and presumably thinking, "Hey, that might be useful." Not sure there's much power and ingenuity in randomly finding a magic mineral lol.

With the history lesson out of the way, we find Ruby at Summer's grave with... a military-like march soundtrack? It's an intriguing choice and, combined with Ozpin’s introduction + Weiss' AU design, I'm curious to see how much this story will feed into RWBY's (badly managed) anti-military themes. Though introducing our simple soul protagonist with that vibe doesn't seem like a great start...

What is done well is the character work in this scene. Actually, that's something I want to praise about the episode as a whole: IQ is very good (so far) at developing the cast and the world, something it absolutely has over the original RWBY. Remnant feels lived in, the characters' stories are better intertwined — helped by making this episode a combination of the trailers and “Ruby Rose” — and I actually feel like they have internal lives they're living, rather than just existing as archetypal puppets under the Rule of Cool's strings. Sure, RWBY gets better at that as time goes on — I wouldn't care about the early Volumes like I do if the characters didn't feel engaging to me — but IQ nails it right from the start.

Case in point, Ruby isn't just staring at a mysterious grave that was added last minute because hell, why not. She's really talking to Summer, telling her all about how Yang made it into Beacon Academy and that she "always said she wanted to be a huntress." Such a small line of dialogue and yet suddenly Yang’s motivations better align with Ruby's. Rather than being the party girl just out for a good time (the club scene doesn't even make it into this episode, if it shows up at all), Yang always wanted to be a huntress, specifically — just like their mom. It stabilizes Yang's career path and helps sell the idea that one primary, personal conflict is how Ruby will break away from her sister's shadow: she's talking to Summer primarily about her "sis," she wants to be a huntress just like Yang, she's kinda jealous that Yang is already on her way — a nice detail that makes Ruby feel like a legit person with complex emotions — Tai is worried about his youngest standing on her own, and meanwhile Ruby is asking her mom, “What can I do to be more like [Yang]?” Frankly, this scene sells the idea of Yang raising and influencing Ruby far more than the entirety of Volumes 1 and 2 did. We can see how Yang has become the mother figure that Ruby is desperate to emulate, even as she says she also wants to follow in Summer's footsteps. From Yang and Tai talking about Ruby like they're the parents waiting on their wayward child, to the hug where Ruby is positioned more like the child as Yang holds her and looks to Summer —

I feel like the show has visually told me that Yang helped raise Ruby, episodes before we get to that talk with Blake. Sure, they're absolutely still playful sisters — and Yang calls Summer "Mom." No Raven complications just yet — but IQ changes the dynamic slightly, making Yang come across as more mature and, consequentially, more of a mentor figure for Ruby. Yang is someone Ruby needs to eventually step away from in order to forge her own path.

Also, love that they give them the exact same wink. Again, they're close and we can see Ruby mimicking some of Yang's mannerisms:

However, this is perhaps as good a time as any to admit that I don't really like the character designs? Outside of their normal outfits/distinguishing features, of course. I mentioned weeks back that I find their eyes to be creepy as hell and though I realize now that's a visual staple of the creator's... it doesn't change that I think they're creepy lol. Worse, there's something very doll-like about the models that makes my skin crawl. It's not too bad when we've got a fight sequence going on, but when Ruby is just standing there with her unnatural eyes, glossed lips, painted cheeks, kinda shiny skin like she might be made of porcelain...

Yeesh.

I don't know. I'm assuming this is purely a me problem (no doubt born from too many horror movies in my youth) and not every shot is bad! But some definitely make my brain go, "Nope, nope, nope, NOPE" in a very Uncanny Valley kind of way.

I mean sure, the animation quality is undoubtedly better, but original Ruby just looks more... real to me? You know? Does anyone else get that?

Yeah, I can't explain it well. It’s fine. Just don't let IQ!Ruby into my room at night, please.

We cut to Weiss standing before the garden monument — which I've only now realized is kinda weird. Who gives a snowflake wings? — and she's approached by Klein who is, for all intents and purposes so far, a totally different character. There's no sign of his semblance (no real loss imo) and he's far more formal — deferential — towards Weiss than he’s ever been in the webseries. Gone is the chaotic, buddy-buddy dynamic they had and in its place is the far more common “Play-by-the-rules butler has a soft spot for the young mistress, allowing for a bit of parental love to shine through.” Think Carson with Lady Mary. Or even Alfred with Bruce. Though I’m personally a big fan of this character type—I’m an absolute sucker for love pushing up against class/social expectations/job formalities—this is a case where IQ arguably moves backwards. Rather than introducing a bit of depth like we saw between Ruby and Yang, we’ve reverted to a far simpler setup. Which, I want to emphasize, isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I don’t think Klein is important enough to necessitate that creativity when being a fond, long-suffering butler serves the story just as well. It’s just an observation that they have stripped him of what made him stand out from the butler crowd.

He tells Weiss that the “arrangements” have been made and they walk together to the ballroom where her final test is to take place. On the way we spot a day-drinking Willow from behind and the shot reminds me a bit of the comic panels:

and we also run into Whitley, still leaning smugly against the wall like he did in the webseries. This time though I’m reading him through the lens of the kid he is, rather than the scheming, Jacques Jr. that both stories seem to be going for. See: Whitley smirking from the shadows while Weiss walks through beams of beautiful light, finally settling between the pillars in the full sun. It’s not subtle.

This is one of a couple split-screens in our opening episode and though it’s a technique the webseries has made use of recently (think the Team RWBY vs. Ace Ops fight), personally it’s something that I think should be used sparingly. Like here, do we really need to get Klein’s reaction and, in the process, see the awkwardness of Weiss with half a face? Or, in a moment, a shot of her boots?

Next to the contrast of Weiss and Whitley, which actually serves a narrative purpose, these just feel unnecessary. Technique for the sake of technique.

We also get a shot of the family portrait as Weiss passes by. Nothing detailed unless you pause the episode, but it's a glimpse of that supposedly picture-perfect family right before we see it unravel. Whitley questions Weiss’ ability to pass this test, she tells him to just watch her do it, and then we get what I think is a damn solid line:

“I’ve always watched you, my fearless, foolish sisters."

We’ve got the story introducing that there's a third sibling before we see Winter at the test. There’s Whitley's quiet admission that yes, he's been watching them (looking up to them) for, presumably, years. Also an acknowledgement of those complicated emotions tied up in their choice to not just become Huntresses, but to use the career as a means of escaping their father's abuse when he, someone without combat skills, can't follow them. Is it foolish then, or fearless? Depends entirely on whether you have that option to begin with. This is a Whitley who, right from the start, feels like a kid struggling under an inability to follow in his sisters' footsteps, despite how the animation paints him as the shadowy antagonist, with the concept of paths and having to carve out your own tying in nicely with Blake's story.

Weiss arrives at the test where both Winter and Jacques are waiting for her. It puts them on fairly even footing — both watching this dangerous battle with detachment, both taking up the same position on opposite sides of the room — despite the fact that verbally Winter is more supportive of Weiss than Jacques has ever been in his life. Still, that parallel combined with Winter being "too busy" when Weiss leaves for Beacon and her cold approach to training her in the flashback makes this version of Winter seem far less welcoming than the original. “The powerless return to dust. That is the law of this world” she tells Weiss after she fails to defeat all of her summons (as seen in the Volume 5 short) and while that is a very cool line that hints at how Remnant's history has influenced the peoples’ philosophy, it’s also a damn bit more dismissive than Weiss promising to do better and Winter saying only that she hopes she can — she'll need it to escape. I can't imagine this Winter playfully batting Weiss' head and demanding information about the friends she's made.

I do want to emphasize that Weiss' entire story is much clearer for the audience though. We're told exactly who all these people are (at least in relation to one another). We've established that Weiss is undergoing a test to get into Beacon. We have a line about Klein releasing the grimm, right on the heels of our intro explaining wtf grimm are, and oh look, now she's fighting it. All of "Red, White, Black, Yellow" flows together more smoothly than the trailers + "Ruby Rose” do, meaning there's no mad scramble to, say, explain to the community that this is a flashback, Weiss got that scar during her fight—look, there’s a bit of blood—she’s singing on her father’s orders, yeah idk why exactly it’s just a thing she does, mhmm the fight is a test to get into Beacon, etc. I didn’t come into RWBY until Volume 3, but I remember finding old posts that worked to clarify the iffy canon of our trailers (and, indeed, acknowledging that some details like Ruby’s strength against the grimm remain in the realm of “Not canon, actually”) as well as explaining what precisely happened in each. None of that is necessary here. The only thing the scene doesn’t clarify is how a suit of armor is also a grimm, but failing to get into the possession abilities is small potatoes compared to the potential confusion we started out with.

Yet despite the obvious benefits of that clarity, the fight itself is just… fine? Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing bad about it—except, perhaps, the weird glyph sound effects that I personally hate—yet even following much of the original choreography, I didn’t have an emotional investment in this fight like I did the White Trailer. I think a great deal of that comes down to the music. Though I’ve always agreed that the soundtrack is a huge part of RWBY’s personality, I didn’t realize quite how much of the emotion it carried until it was gone. The generic battle music of IQ just can’t compare to hearing

Mirror, mirror

Tell me something,

Who’s the loneliest of all?

…I’m the loneliest of all.

while Weiss is framed in front of the broken moon, expression stony, this epic moment inter-cut with her future self belting this lament, all right before she drives through the knight and lands, perfectly confident in her victory.

IQ!Weiss technically has the same combat beats of the original fight (with the exception of the knight’s sword nearly crushing Klein??), but it’s a completely different vibe. IQ!Weiss feels frantic at the end to me and her getting to coldly demand the Beacon reward from her father is a one-up moment that doesn’t jive with, say, Weiss later trying to muster up a fake smile in the elevator to convince her family that everything’s fine. She feels too confident, like she’s already won against Jacques and RWBY!Weiss’ journey (marred as it was by Volume 8) isn’t even on the table anymore. And, you know, maybe it’s not. Though the changes are subtle so far, this is already a very different version of Weiss. Personally, I prefer the theme of loneliness in the original: Weiss standing as the knight is obliterated behind her, bloody face fading into someone who, despite this victory, is still left standing there, alone on stage, performing for her father. She won the battle, but is still fighting the war.

(Gotta love shots like this though. The size difference! The scale! The seemingly insurmountable challenge!)

With a red leaf that looks a lot like a rose petal flying by—nice—we transition to Blake who is…

…Naruto running with Adam?

alksdfjalsjfa okay, cool.

Their section is pretty similar to the Black Trailer, though this time around Blake’s decision to leave feels like it’s really coming out of left field. I mean, she questions whether they’ll be fighting actual people, but Adam reframes that around Blake’s courage and there’s no visual cue from her that he’s wrong about that. Then we get a seemingly sweet moment where she doesn’t even look at the Atlas soldier behind her, knowing Adam’s got her back

and though she’s clearly not happy about Adam crashing the train when there are people on board, Blake doesn’t have that much of a reaction to it. She just walks over to the next car and severs the connection, leaving the audience with Adam’s supremely awkward line, “Are you betraying me? Betraying the White Fang?”

Easily the worst part of the episode for me 😬 You know you haven’t written a scene well when a character has to spell things out in the most heavy-handed way possible.

To be honest, I’ve always found the Black Trailer to be the weakest of the bunch and I don’t think IQ has succeeded in improving on it. If anything, I think having Blake sneak away while Adam is busy with the mech, only for him and the audience to both realize she’s on a different, separated car works better than… this. I suppose neither version really sells me on the idea that this was a breaking point for Blake and if it wasn’t, why leave now, right in the middle of a mission? Compared to the clarity of our other stories, Blake’s remains lacking in some respects.

We get to Ruby’s Dust shop robbery and, given that we’ve just gone through two of the trailers, I’m a little disappointed that the Red Trailer wasn’t included. Certainly it’s the least plot connected of the four and yes, they’ve done away with Yang’s too, but Ruby taking out a horde of grimm under a shattered moon is the defining image of the franchise—at least for me. It’s not just what IQ decided to cut out though. Like Weiss’ fight sending a very different message thanks to the time spent on clarifying her test and its consequences, the development of Ruby’s character pre-robbery means that we’ve lost the appealing surprise of who she really is. What I mean is, outside of the Red Trailer, the moment Ruby turns—tiny, bright-eyed, sporting headphones and a weapons magazine—is our first introduction to her and that particular image contrasts wonderfully with her kicking that goon to hell and back. I mean sure, we already know how such “surprises” work (especially in a combat webseries. It’s not really a surprise), but I still love the (supposed) shock of this child being cornered, but then turning around and kicking ass.

That doesn’t happen in IQ precisely because the show does a better job of developing Ruby beforehand. We’ve already watched her tell Summer about how she might be getting bad grades, but she’s an expert with weapons. She’s already visited a weapons store before popping into the Dust shop.

She’s already gushed over the weapons magazine and even quoted from it, rather than that existing purely as a background detail for the audience to catch. Hell, we’ve already seen Crescent Rose, at least in its compact state, which makes the robbery “reveal” no longer a reveal at all. There’s no, “Oh cool the vulnerable kid is actually a badass fighter! And she’s got a scythe!!” reaction because the show has established that as a firm part of Ruby’s characterization. We know about Yang and Beacon and Ruby’s long-term combat goals. This

just doesn’t have the same impact anymore.

It’s the same with Zwei. Do I love seeing my favorite pupper right in the first episode? Hell yeah. Have we now lost the opportunity to introduce him through the mail—another iconic RWBY moment? Also yeah.

Which, again, is not automatically a bad thing. This isn’t a case of “Choice A works, but Choice B doesn’t.” Although IQ’s timeline is arguably a more productive way to write a long-term story, in inevitably comparing it to the webseries, I can’t help but notice that we’ve lost a certain absurdity and, well, fun that’s a part of RWBY’s charm.

(That’s an awesome shot though. Love the lighting.)

So Ruby works her way through the goons—a combat sequence I quite enjoyed. Very liberal on the crunchy faces. Looked painful—and Roman runs through most of his original lines. This time he does comment, “Semblance? A Beacon Academy student?” when Ruby busts out the window, which both hints at the fact that semblances might be comparatively rare (remember that Roman doesn’t have one) and, by extension, highlights Ruby’s innate abilities. The fact that Roman assumes she must go to Beacon implies that only someone two years older than her could pull that kind of control off. Ruby, as the talented protagonist, has managed this early.

Roman throws his smoke bomb, runs up the building, Ruby follows him… calls him a thief even though technically he didn’t take any of the Dust with him lol. While they’re on the roof, Tai, Yang, and Zwei arrive on the scene, having grown worried when Ruby failed to return home at a normal time.

(Why is that clock so cool and why don’t I own it.)

Again, IQ does a really great job of fleshing out the world and the characters’ relationships, especially in just 20 minutes. I love that Ruby was out looking for a present for Yang (still bitter we never got to see what she bought her in Volume 6), that Yang and Tai have this conversation about Ruby’s growth, Zwei is being used as a bloodhound to track her, the fact that yeah, of course there are other civilians about and the police were called on scene.

Personally, I think there’s a nostalgic charm to RWBY’s shadow people, but it’s still true to say that animating actual characters responding to situations goes a long way towards making your world feel lived in.

Also, can I just SHOUT FROM THE ROOFTOPS that Tai is out looking for his daughter? I never cared about his character much until post-Volume 3 when the fandom started dragging him for… well, everything. How dare you make a joke your daughter clearly loved. How dare you tell her the truth in an effort to keep her from losing another limb—or her life. (Which, I will always point out now, happened! Yang stupidly jumped in front of Ruby, just like she stupidly charged Adam, and Neo killed her!! You have a ranged weapon, Yang, oh my god—) How dare you fail to follow one kid while the other is at home with severe depression. How dare you not follow both when [checks notes] you’re not a part of the primary plot. Tai really went the way of Ozpin and Ironwood (pre-Volume 8 Ironwood, anyway) where potential mistakes are declared unforgivable sins and… that’s it. You’re Remnant’s #1 Worst Dad. Sucks to be you.

So hell yeah, good on IQ for reminding everyone that Tai, even an AU Tai, is of course worried sick over his missing kid and will do whatever he can to help her. Double kudos for managing that alongside a slight increase in mom!Yang energy.

Glynda (my beloved) shows up and does her thing. Cinder never comes out to fight them, but we still see her piloting the airship, which is interesting. At least, it is to me given that I’d assumed going into IQ that a lot of the larger plot-lines would be dropped in favor of the new story: the White Fang, Cinder’s lust for power, even Salem herself. Obviously that’s not the case, so now I’m wondering if IQ is like an interlude type story? We get a mostly-the-same Volumes 1-2, then a totally new adventure, then the implication that the characters go back to a version of the original tale with Relics, Maidens, la de da? We’ll have to see.

After Ruby DOESN’T ask for Glynda’s autograph (tragic) and she’s getting her lecture while Tai and Yang wait at the station, Ozpin shows up to… salutes?

That’s a choice.

You know how I was saying that Whitley’s characterization feels more in line with where he’ll end up several Volumes later? Well, Ozpin’s characterization feels more in line with where the show says he ends up several Volumes later… even though they never actually wrote that. Meaning, this is an Ozpin introduction that actually implies an ulterior, morally gray motive. This is a guy that does feel sketchy to me.

Let’s tally the details.

Ozpin arrives at the station—now overtly a police station and not the ambiguous closet of the webseries—and is saluted by everyone there. He doesn’t wave the formality aside with discomfort or anything, but takes it as a given. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that was Ironwood walking into the room.

He still gives Ruby cookies, but this time we see that he didn’t arrive with them. Meaning, he must have made one of the officers scrounge them up which, while still potentially just a nice gesture, feels like it has more potential for manipulation. More “Do the work for me so I can look good to the kid” rather than, “I heard Glynda had you in her clutches and brought cookies from home to soothe that :D”

Ruby never gives her passionate speech about wanting to help people like her parents taught her to and how Beacon is her plan to do that. So although the fandom has long assumed that Ozpin invited her partly due to her Silver Eyes—an assessment I agree with—that motivation feels far more prominent without Ruby overtly wanting to come. At least, she doesn’t tell Ozpin she wants to come. Now, instead of making Ruby’s wish come true (with the added benefit of assisting Ozpin’s war) Ozpin offers a place seemingly out of the blue, still putting some focus on Ruby’s combat skills, far more on those special, Silver Eyes. This feels like a recruitment now, not a benevolent gesture towards a family friend’s kid.

Going off of that, there’s no playful banter between Ozpin and Glynda about Ruby getting in early. This Ozpin has very little of the kind, fatherly energy of the webseries.

Finally, we see Ozpin talking to Tai afterwards and though Tai is quite taken with Ruby getting to skip two years, it’s not like Ozpin is asking his permission here. Sure, sure, we could get into the question of how much agency Remnant kids actually have—Blake’s parents are cool with her going off to Beacon after being missing for a time, no one is looking for Oscar, etc.—but the point is that twice, once before meeting Ruby and once after, Ozpin has the chance to offer Tai this opportunity for his daughter, but very overtly does not. He says that he will be speaking to Ruby. He says that she will be attending Beacon. He’s in control here.

The combination of this creates a far less approachable, more calculating Ozpin. AKA, the kind of Ozpin that RWBY failed to write, but the fandom insists is there in an effort to make the fury in Volume 6+ make sense. I’m not sure how I feel about it? On the one hand yeah, I’m glad to see IQ setting the stage for future reveals. This is an Ozpin who really might be puppeteering this war in a way the cast can be justifiably disgusted by. Yet on the other hand, it doesn’t feel much like Ozpin to me. Though small changes have been made to all the characters, they still feel like themselves (Klein being the exception). Ozpin though… there’s no interest in Ruby’s passion, no teasing Glynda, no intimacy with Tai. Seriously, go back and watch “Ruby Rose.” We’ve got Ozpin’s dad-like concern over Ruby using one of the “most dangerous weapons every designed,” his clear fondness for his “dusty old crow,” offering the cookies only after Ruby has explained herself a bit and her actually eating them (comfortable in his presence/trusting what he gives her), the eye-twitch when she talks with her mouth full, fond smile as Ruby gushes about her uncle, laughing a little at her karate chops, “adorable girl,” the very stern “You want to come to my school?” which forces Ruby to clearly state her own goals and desires (that oh so conveniently align with his), THIS

I mean, Ozpin is a dad. I feel like that’s a very crucial part of his characterization. He’s a romantic who settled down, had kids, does the stupid voices while reading his beloved fairy tales… and then his life went to absolute shit. He’s an exhausted dad who is still fighting because he believes wholeheartedly that the world is worth fighting for. He’s exactly the kind of guy who would bring a talented kid cookies and let her skip two years, all while ensuring her happiness benefits humanity somehow.

This guy feels like a creep—and that’s not just because of the weird doll features.

So good for the fandom, finally has a legitimately suspicious Ozpin to embrace? Yay IQ laying the groundwork for future plot-points? But as my favorite character, I wish we had Ozpin back. Especially since he’s only existed as an extension of Oscar for the past five Volumes, one everyone uses as a punching bag.

Maybe his characterization will change in the upcoming episodes? :(

We near the end of “Red, White, Black, Yellow” with a bit of additional worldbuilding slapped onto the trailer content. Weiss learns from Winter that there are hard rules to their totally-not-magic system—“Your Aura can only take a direct attack once or twice at most. The moment you’re hit, you’re finished”—and that’s reiterated by Glynda to Ruby: “Is your Aura strong enough to stop every bullet they fired?”

Cue me CACKLING at, like, every single RWBY fight ever. Will IQ do what the webseries couldn’t and actually stick to its own rules? We’ll have to see…

Blake is off in a… barn? Some isolated place with a bag of supplies now. She gets her admission notice from Beacon and I have to wonder when she took that exam. Was it before she left Adam, thereby making her leaving him feel a little less random? Was it after her escape and she’s been, what? Just running through grimm infested territory since then, popping into Beacon once for a quick test? Why didn’t she ever go home?? Yeah, there are still aspects that don’t quite add up for me. Regardless, Blake gets teary and says that now she’s really able to follow a “different path.”

Klein sends Weiss off with faith that she’ll carry on the legacy of Master Nicholas Schnee and, after Ruby tells Tai that she’ll make a ton of friends at Beacon (that’s a change in characterization), we finish with them all boarding the same transport. We then get a really lovely moment where both Weiss and Blake stare at their reflection on opposite sides of the ship, mustering up a smile.

Watching OFMD grow as a fandom these last few months, I’ve gotten to see a lot of people question certain fandom trends that have popped up, including asking, “Wait, people ship that?” Ignoring for the moment that you obviously don’t need a reason beyond, “I like it,” we can usually pinpoint why fans end up liking that particular duo (or trio). The important takeaway here is that it doesn’t take much—at ALL—to spark that interest. This moment is a perfect example of that. Blake and Weiss are set up to parallel and contrast one another. One is the rich heiress harming the faunus. The other is the (right now reading as) poor faunus fighting the heiress. They’ve got that Romeo and Juliet potential—two houses not meant to join—and yet we also see, right here, that they’re so much more alike than either will initially believe. They’re separated now, haven’t yet met, are literally on opposite sides of the transport, and yet they both go through the exact same motions of sighing in relief at making it in time, catching sight of themselves in a reflective surface, considering who they are, and then smiling. There’s so much potential there! We in the RWBY fandom know that Bumbleby and White Rose are the two heavy-hitters, but right now Weiss hasn’t met Ruby and Blake hasn’t met Yang. I guarantee that if IQ were its own show and we were waiting a week for the next, totally original episode, fans would be all over Monochrome as the primary ship. It would have sunk its teeth into the community from that alone and even if IQ went the way of RWBY, splitting them up and starting numerous moments of other shipping potential (Weiss slowing coming to care for Ruby, Yang opening up to Blake, etc.) there’s a good chance that Blake/Weiss would have hung on like whoa, just from this moment and a week of theorizing alone. Never doubt the power of fans to imagine up the most epic romances from a single, thematically loaded shot.

We’re given our first glimpses of Jaune (vomiting), Nora (hanging onto Ren), Ren (suffering, but he likes it), and Pyrrha—taking up most of the screen as Salem says that “even the most brilliant lights eventually flicker and die.”

I can’t go through this again 😭

At least that’s a WAY better introduction for Pyrrha than being Jaune’s background, quirky girl...

And, of course, we end on a close-up of Ruby as Ozpin talks about small sparks and simple souls igniting the most change.

(I’m sorry she looks so creepy here hOW IS THAT NOT A MURDER DOLL??)

So, just to summarize, there's really good character work throughout this episode. Not only are the introductions tighter and better interwoven with Remnant's worldbuilding, but IQ does a decent job of setting up future themes, conflicts, and — if the plot circles back to canon — foreshadowed events like Pyrrha’s death. Basically, this is what happens when you take your story through another draft. This is RWBY with an eye towards what did and didn't work the first time around.

Yet for all that praise... I have to admit that a certain spark is missing. Yes, the animation is so much better, but as said, there's something charming about RWBY's janky movements and shadow people. Yes, the characters' introductions fit more neatly into the story-world now, but it was exciting to get individual action trailers, unsure at first how they would develop into a plot-driven narrative. No, there's no reason to waste time on silly things like Jaune being Vomit Boy, but the lack of stupid humor in this premiere makes me feel like a crucial part of RWBY is missing. There's no disappearing cookies, or Ruby being chill about Yang kicking men out of club windows, or karate chops, or (and this is a real travesty imo) a cringey "Can I have your autograph??" towards Glynda. Maybe it's that we're nearly a decade out from the original air date and tastes have changed, or maybe it's just straight up nostalgia on my part, but for however good IQ is so far, it doesn't feel like it has the same heart that RWBY did — and I don't think it's capable of recreating that. RWBY was a specific storm of Monty + 2013 + the appeal of a group of fans doing something fun in their basement over something objectively "good," and who knows what else thrown into the mysterious pot of success. You literally can't recreate that, especially when so much of RWBY's fanbase are adults now, unable to return to their teenage years — or even just the eight years younger version of themselves if they were adults the first time around — and the headspace of when they first fell in love with the story. That doesn't make IQ bad by any means (and it may well get its own fanbase of first-time viewers). I really enjoyed this first episode... but I enjoyed it in the way I enjoy lots of other well-made, but kinda generic anime. Without it already being a RWBY story and without RWBY having caught my imagination back when it did, I don't think I would have gotten hooked on IQ in the same way. The premier is good, arguably far, FAR better than "Ruby Rose" ever was, and yet, whether due to time, nostalgia, or something else entirely, RWBY still feels like it comes out on top. It’s just got... something that IQ lacks.

Not that it's a competition, of course, though certain members of the fandom seem to believe quite strongly that it should be. More because they’d like a built-in reason to drag anyone with a criticism of IQ/RWBY than because they actually believe two versions of a story can’t co-exist.

But I digress.

With that, we've completed "Red, White, Black, Yellow"! At a measly 6,000 words, no less. (I’m apologizing now for the inevitable typos. It’s past 1:00am now and I can’t read through this again...) As is abundantly obvious, these recaps take a long time to write and this sneak peek has, quite unexpectedly, dropped the equivalent of three weeks worth of RWBY content into my lap all at once. Normally I'd have no problem buckling down to write the next episode, but I have a number of fic commitments at the start of July that I can't afford to ignore. So writing time will be going towards those, first and foremost, with me continuing to work on Ice Queendom on the side. I hope to have the next episode recapped in the next few days — at the latest — but that depends entirely on how kind the writing Gods are to me this week.

So stay tuned and, as always, thanks for reading! <3

MurderOfBirds' Twitter Thread: https://twitter.com/MurderofBirds_/status/1540414268457340928

#RWBY #RWDE #mymetas #rwby: ice queendom #rwby recaps

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cevans-is-classic · 1 year

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Do you know how you want the story to end when you start, or are you just stumbling through the figurative wilderness hoping to find a road?

▪︎ Depends on the idea. Sometimes I don't even have a beginning just very strong middle that I need to meet

●Talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”

▪︎ Holy shit literally the Moments series and a Sebastian fic I'm wildly stuck on. Both of those somehow took on a life of their own without me coming along and now I'm stuck.

●On a scale of 1-10 how much do you enjoy incorporating romance into the average story?

▪︎6? That's my strong suit aside from smut but I always try to write platonic relationships all the time

●What is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential dread?

▪︎I'm just gonna answer yes.

●Have you ever made a playlist about something you were writing as an elaborate means to procrastinate when you could have been actually writing and if yes drop a link, son

▪︎Yes. I have a main writing list too

●Do you have any kind of consistent writing schedule or just hoping for the best?

▪︎I used to write once a week without fail but then depression and life happened and now it's a shot in the dark, baby.

●tell us about the plot of the first fanfic you ever wrote

▪︎ Oh Holy shit okay I don't remember the exact PLOT of the first fanfic I wrote but it was definitely John Cena and it led me to my first Supernatural fic cuz I liked a side idea I bad while writing and that one was a soulmate/witches thing.

●What's your relationship with constructive criticism and feedback like? Do you seek it out? How well do you take it?

▪︎I always welcome it. I only seek it out in people I know will tell me the truth but not be malicious about it. It depends on the former and the emotion they put into it when telling me.

●In an ideal world where you’re already super successful and published, would you want to see a tv or movie adaptation of your work? Why or why not?

▪︎Tv only because you are not tearing my story apart by shoving it into a movie box.

●At what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you?

▪︎ Depends on the idea I'm using.

●What's something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? Also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?

▪︎Because of Supernatural fics I will never show anyone I learned alot about different religions and beliefs. It helped me open up how I saw things and people — It actually held me from being an absolute piece of shit.

●Do you ever have trouble focusing on writing? How do you get around that?

▪︎ All of the time. I write when I'm feeling and yes feeling happens all the time but I'm mentally ill. I have problems and my feelings don't always want to be felt. I try to write down any ideas I have, I blurb, I spam Tumblr until I hit a moment where I feel.

●talk about a writing experience that has pleasantly surprised you.

▪︎ I got a message from a wonderful follower who told me they loved how I wrote Sebastian stan. That really stuck with me 😄

●What's your worst writing habit?

▪︎The fact that grammar isn't real and I can do what I want.

●Where do you share your writing?

▪︎Tumblr and Ao3.

@Cevans_is_classic

And destiel_is_classic on Ao3

●Where is your favorite place to write?

▪︎ On the floor.

● What is your favorite line you’ve ever written?

▪︎"The beer did nothing to calm the wave in his stomach, his eyes kept cutting to every new person who entered the bar until eventually the alcohol was gone and he knew sitting here drinking alone waiting for a ghost to breeze in was worse than aching at home."

It's from a Chris Evans story that I neglect.

●What is your most and least favorite part of writing?

▪︎All of it.

●What are some books or authors that influenced your style the most?

▪︎This one is really hard. I read a lot and can't always pinpoint when someone's voice spoke to me. I do get a lot of inspiration from other fanfic writers.

●What is your favorite trope to write?

▪︎Idiots in love or "They're completely in love with each other but neither of them want to admit it."

●Pick a writer to co-write a book with and tell us what you’d write about.

▪︎My wifee Gen and something about found family and making the best out of bad situations with possibly some magic.

●describe your writing process from scratch to finish.

▪︎F

●how do you deal with writers block?

▪︎F

●on average, how much writing do you get done in a day?

▪︎I would love to say every day but if I'm being honest I can, maybe, write once or twice a week. I get into these binges then it tapers off because I get into my own head.

●If you could tell your favorite story what would it be?

▪︎How my best friend and I met and started hanging out. I'd like to write that we were there for each other no matter what but sometimes it isn't enough but at the end of the day — they're the one that matters to me. I want everyone to have that kind of friendship.

I INTERVIEWED MYSELF

#fanfiction writer

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chocolatemilksmoothie · 2 years

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Any Sport in a Storm

Listen I didn't get the time to do this w the last 2 eps (even though I had a lot of thoughts and feelings believe me) but I'll do it now bc this episode was so cute? And it surprised me too! Let's see

all the coven heads ignoring him is unsurprising, tho Raine hesitating didn't escape me. even under Terra's control they seem a bit concerned

Belos being like a single working parent leaving notes on the fridge or smth

so. the old golden guard sigil is also the Gravesfield sigil? I already had noticed it looks similar to the Emperor's coven symbol but the bird's wings are more closed. thinking...

grown witches let's stop bullying the literal teenager

"Little Prince" is the cutest nickname ever and if Darius is the closest thing Hunter will get to a mentor figure I love the idea of it going from a condescending name to an affectionate one. I love it

seems Darius and Eber are very involved in Belos plans? what are they doing

Darius knew the previous Golden Guard? He was his mentor?? There was a previous Golden Guard???

So I was wondering how or why he would be sent to Hexide, turns out it wasn't Belos idea at all. Makes sense

Willow is an absolute badass and I love her YES GIRL GO

like SHE'S SO POWERFUL god

HER DADS? awww jock nerd family!

Luz dropping all the books really got me for some reason. my child

"spill it hermosa!"

I suspected Luz and Amity would be busy elsewhere, and really enjoyed their B plot! Theorizing just like us about the mysterious person, the answer was the simpler option

I had assumed Eda had brought the books and sold them at some point. It was smth like that but without Eda lol

Tiny Nose has a name now also? good for her

To the surprise of no one, he sucks at interacting with other kids but this is even worse than expected lmao authority! and rules!!

heck yea Jerbo fight the system!

Professor Homunculus is a big jerk. tho we already knew that

Glad our boi Hunter gets to show off a little with the flying skills, he's had a, uh, rough season. He also got attacked by Puddles

I thought Caleb was the name of the museum guy obsessed with witches but it was actually Jacob generic english man names got me confused my bad

"hm, I don't feel sick" oh you clueless child

Gus being suspicious and protective I love my son

the Best and the Brightest I love them

Two "half-a-witch" witches huh? Loved the parallel but also ouch. Guess that's a common insult for kids who struggle with magic which is yikes

Skara tactical genius hell yeah!

"now I'm only scarred emotionally ;)" girl omg

I hope Viney and Jerbo can reconcile after this. He looked terrified lmao we take sports very serious here

I love Hunter's teleporting technique. sneaky boi

TEAM SPORTS. TEAM SPIRIT. Hunter making friends!! and he came up with the team name! Cute and creative

"Icepack for Steve"

seems training for the emperor's coven is brutal. Yet to hunter it's whatever lmao oh boy

also one free day a year.... yikes

Darius pushing Hunter to make choices for himself let's gooo

Boop

and he gave him a phone scroll thingy 😭 which means he can keep in touch. Typing like an old man

I hope he won't get in trouble for it but Belos is ancient af he probably thinks social media is the real dark magic so he'll never see it I guess

sewing is indeed a very helpful skill to have

so third time was the charm, after Luz then Amity tried to reach out it seems Willow and her team might be his first real friends!

what's his username I need to know

I already liked Darius as a fabulous jerk and antagonist but now I'm super interested to see more of him

also his past with Amity's dad SPILL THE TEA! bitter exes? former besties? rivals since forever? is it a one sided aggression thing? please I need it

and he follows him on social media just to scoff and mute him, petty king

obsessed with Amity and Luz showing up at the end like oh did we miss anything imporWHAT

Little Prince!!

So yeah, very cute and fun over all, and revealed more than I expected. S2 has been fantastic non stop. Glad Hunter got to have some fun bc I feel he won't for too long

oh, spoilers for the upcoming episode synopsis:

So next week we'll have Amity and Luz focus, and it seems Amity wants to impress her dad so we might get more Darius too! Show me the handsome witch again!! Not expecting to see Hunter next week but maybe more Willow and Gus. I love them. I do hope we keep seeing the Emeralds hanging out in the future as a club and having practice and playing matches, idk. also show them talking w hunter through the scrolls? it'd be cute

#toh #toh spoilers #the owl house #the owl house spoilers #long post #any sport in a storm #hunter toh #the golden guard #willow park #gus porter #luz noceda #amity blight #skara #viney toh #darius toh #raine whispers

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mischiefmanaged71 · 3 years

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Turning Tables (1/8) - Joaquin Torres x Reader

Summary: The instances where Joaquin and Y/N try to express their feelings and the one time they did.

Author’s Note: I may turn this into a series following the show’s timeline if enough people like it! So far, I’ve planned five parts. Please, let me know what you guys think. Y/N’s powers are ‘mimicking’ others talents and abilities, SIMILAR TO X-MEN’S ROGUE. Check out my other fic, ‘Bad Romance’ - its not related to the show’s exact plot but its pretty epic if you love action and romance.

Warnings: Fluff, canon-level violence, action, slow-burn

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x fem!reader

Word Count: 3K

“The criminal organisation known as LAF is targeting Captain Vasant, one of our military liaisons.”

The hum of the plane continued to drum in the background as they received their instructions.

“LAF?”, Sam asked.

“Yeah, they’re high powered. We lost contact with Vasant’s plane just after it took off.”, the Captain informed.

“We need you to make sure that LAF doesn’t deliver on their threat.”

You listened from the front of the hanger, strapping on your gear as Sam walked over. His hand gripped your shoulder, pulling your attention away from the straps of your boots.

“You ready?”, Sam asked.

“I have to be”

“I’m your only backup in the sky.”, you joked, winking at Sam.

“Vasant’s plane has already entered Tunisian airspace. US military cannot be seen operating out there.”

Sam knocks on a button, triggering the door’s release. A red light flares along with a siren as the hanger doors drop. You squint your eyes as you peer down at the drop.

“Got it. You guys fly low, drop us off, we fly up to intercept. No treaties violated.”

“How are our eyes on the ground?”, you ask the Captain, adjusting the com in your ear.

“First Lieutenant Torres, our intel officer, will be helping on the ground. And Sam, this has to be subtle.”

“Subtle. Got it.”, he said, before free falling out of the plane. You peer out into the open space as Sam falls before he initiates his wings, shooting him forwards.

You roll your eyes and breathe out a soft laugh.

“I’ll make sure he sticks to the plan.”, you assure the Captain.

You close your eyes, breathing deeply and searching for that spark within. It’s a growing feeling, one that existed from a long time ago, but it's still there. It remains just as the others have.

Gripping onto it is like opening a new door each time, engulfed by a different skin which takes over.

It shocks your system for a second and then quickly adjusts.

Your eyes flash open, filled with adrenaline as you inhale deeply and an orange glow begins to overtake your sight.

Your uniform whips against you as you creep closer to the edge and take the leap, diving head first with your legs and arms held tightly by your side. Pushing your hands and feet behind you, you’re launched up and against the wind.

Adrenaline pumps through your chest as you soar past clouds, leaving the plane behind you. You swoop down, spotting the red suit and wings from a distance as he circles around for the plane.

“Sam, (Y/N), Torres here. Sending intel to your HUD right now,”

“I’ll be your boots on the ground.”, Joaquin spoke into his com.

“Copied, Lieutenant. How are we looking?”, you asked, following behind Sam.

“Stable so far. I can see Sam. Where are you?”

“Look up, Flyboy.”, you teased, sweeping in a curve and kicking your feet out, as you blasted off to catch up with Sam. A burst of air billowed off you as you’re launched forward.

You hear a low whistle through the coms as you slow down your descent.

“Stop showing off for Torres, Y/L/N.”, Sam interjected.

“I got eyes on a plane. Any sign of LAF?”

“Nah. nothing yet. But I’ll keep tracking the chatter.”, Torres replied.

“On your left.”, you shot at Sam as you floated on the opposite side of the plane, hovering out of sight of the pilot.

Laying on the windscreen, Sam glanced inside at the body in the co-pilot seat.

“They’ve already hijacked the plane.”

“Oh, we’re gonna need to call some people.”, Torres exclaimed.

“Just what I needed today.”, you chided, sighing.

Suddenly, Sam shuffled back and shot his wings out, flying backwards and out of sight.

“Subtly, at its finest, Wilson.”, you stated, circling around to follow around the back.

“Tracking back.”

“Okay, switching to Plan B.”, Sam spoke over the coms

“Remind me what Plan B was again,” you asked.

“Red Wing, engage.”, detattaching from the suit, Red wing assaults the door with lasers, releasing it with a blast.

Sam retracts his wings and launches into the ship, kicking Batroc in the chest. Assaulting the pirate with a kick to the head, he takes on the next guy with a right hook to the jaw, throwing him into the wall.

You glide into the plane, narrowly missing the fist flying at your head. Ducking down, you strike your knee into your assailant’s stomach, directing a fist into his face. You slam your foot into his chest, sending him flying off his feet.

Sam kicks one of them in the side, sending them towards you as you roundhouse kick him through the only exit.

Sudden light fills your vision as bullets rain down. Bullets ricochet off of The Falcon suit but the wings shield the both of you. Suddenly the plane tips forwards, sending you all flying up. Tucking yourself in, you strike the ground, manoeuvring to grab a hold of Vasant as the plane continues to drift downwards.

Kneeling down, you placed your hands on his shoulders, tugging him into a seated position.

“Captain Vasant, let’s get you out of here.”, you said.

Your next movements are interrupted with a kick to your back, forcing you into a wall. Groaning, you look at your attacker, backing up as he approaches with raised fists.

Batroc lunges at you with a swipe but you dodge, aiming a kick at his knee. He swipes his leg in a circle to knock your off your feet and slam you into the floor. You’re quick to roll over and dodge another kick to the abdomen and cart behind him. Launching yourself on his back, you grip your legs tightly around his neck and vault him over you.

Batroc huffs, jumping up to strike his leg down on you but he’s intercepted by Sam’s kick to his chest which knocks him backwards.

Now that Batroc was occupied, you pursued the men holding Vasant. Fire brewing between your palms, you form a lasso, sweeping and snatching the leg of the man gripping Vasant’s arm. Wrenching your arm backwards, the man smacks the floor and you’ve caught their attention. One of them tugs a gun from his belt, fire off a round which you flick away with a hand. A massive blast ignites, sending you hard on your back. Your ears ring as you grip your throbbing head.

Glancing up, you see the remaining agents clad in gear, jumping with Vasant strapped to one of them.

Batroc empties his entire clip on Sam who dodges behind his wings. With a smirk, Batroc slips on his helmet and leaps from the plane.

Only a glance shared between the two of you, you and Sam leap from the plane. Diving forwards, you flip and kick your feet together to soar towards the descending pirates. They continue to shoot at you but Sam swings around and pulls his parachute.

You pursue Batroc, following as Sam propels with skill through the canyon. The gaps become narrower until you’re dropping to miss incoming helicopter machine-gunfire. Swerving around rock formations, a plane follows your path as another pursues Sam.

“All subtlety has gone to shit by this point,” your voice portrayed little of the anxiety now rising in your chest.

“Redwing, get them off our ass!”, Sam yelled as Redwing ejected and launched missiles at the helicopter’s engine, bringing it down with an explosion.

“Y/N, you alright up there?”, Joaquin’s voice filtered through your com.

“Well, I’m being trailed by machine gunfire so not too bad.”, you sarcastically retorted.

Darting upwards, you jet yourself upwards to cart over the plane and behind it. Gripping your palms together, you position your index fingers in-line with the engine and a ball of energy explodes. The craft blows up in smoke and fire as you whoop.

“OH! Ha Ha”, Joaquin laughed in exhilaration, looking through his binoculars.

Finally spotting the last aircraft with Batroc and Vasant, you bolt for the craft, Sam behind you. The man beside them pulls out a missile launcher, you’re close enough that if you dodge, Sam will be hit. Bracing with your hands crossed, a light barrier shields you as explosion hits you. You’re blasted backwards, rocketing to the ground.

Sam ducks around the smoke, “Y/N!”

Your back collides with a rocky surface and an intense pain pulses through you as your vision clouds.

“Y/N! Y/N! Are you okay? Can you hear me?”, Joaquin shouted.

“...Feeling a bit rough, gimme a minute.”, you whispered, rolling to lean on your elbows.

There are mere minutes before Batroc crosses the Libyan border with Captain Vasant.

“All right, heads up! You’re about to fly into Libyan airspace.”

“And I assume they have a problem with that?”

“Yeah, yeah, a big problem. A big problem.”, Joaquin emphasised, nodding his head frantically.

“How long I got?”, Sam asks

“Ninety seconds.”

Missiles explode around Sam, knocking him from side to side. He’s barely dodging them when a pillar of flames zips behind him and through the aircraft, ripping it in two to reveal your hovering figure.

“I said I had your ass.”, you chided with a smirk.

Joaquin’s voice shouts through the coms, “Sam! We got to call it off! We gotta find another way!”, Joaquin yells.

“I just did.”, he answered smugly as he retracted his wings and grabbed Vasant before the final missiles destroyed the craft.

“WOOH!”, you yelled as you descended to the ground.

You spot Joaquin cheering and pumping his fist in the air excitedly. Your smile grows wider as you chuckle at his excitement. Your feet meet the ground as you land, kicking up dirt with it.

“One hell of a mission, Torres.”

“You were incredible out there. Are you okay? You were quite literally hit with a missile. Then again, how are you even standing?”, Joaquin worried, gripping your shoulders.

“I’ll be fine. It’s my invulnerability.”, you brushed it off but your breath hitched as you gripped your back.

“Invulnerability or not, there’s no way you're getting back to base on your own.”, he guided your waist to the passenger side, opening the door for you to climb in.

You sighed in relief as you sat,

“Thank you, but I'd be fine to fly back, I’ve done it before.”

“What? You’ve been shot with a missile before?!”, he exclaimed in shock.

You chuckled at the pure look of concern on his face,

“Avenger, remember Flyboy?", you pointed at your chest.

“Yeah, how could I forget?��, he let out a breathy laugh.

***

Tunisia

Sat in an outdoor café, the streets are bustling with music and chatter. After the mission, you all needed a bit of calm. Joaquin returns with a tray of tea for you all.

He placed a cup in front of you.

“Thanks.”, you smiled up at him as he sighed and sat between you and Sam who was fixing Redwing’s circuiting.

Joaquin pointed towards the wiring,

“You could try to reroute that to the other…”

“Hey, could you not?”

Sam nudges his hands away, eliciting a chuckle from you as you leaned your head on your palm.

“Oh.”, Joaquin chuckles and backs off, making eye contact with you at Sam’s remark.

“I’ve been working with the Air Force for six months now. Every time ops touches him, he gets all glitchy.”

“Well, you know, those poor techs can’t keep up with a billion returning IP addresses and your sick-ass Stark level tech.”

You all laugh at that reality. The world you live in is stranger than just advanced tech when you can wield fire in one hand and break someone’s wrist in the other.

Joaquin looked at you,

“You feelin’ better?”

“Yes. I’m fine, don’t worry. Sam, will you tell him, I’m fine.”

“She’s fine. I’ve seen the woman take on Iron Man’s pulsar rays head-on.”

But Joaquin’s gaze continues to flicker back to the open gash on your forehead.

“Hehehey! Avengers! Assalama!”, a Tunisian man approached your table, addressing Sam in Arabic.

What surprised you both was Sam’s response.

Joaquin pointed his phone at Sam, “He knows Arabic.”

“Your pronunciation is incredible, Wilson.”, you fired towards him, leaning forwards.

“Wait, can you say that again? Hold on a sec.”, Joaquin teased.

“All right. Come on.”

Joaquin let out a breathy laugh, rising from his seat to scan the area with his phone.

“These LAF crews, they’re tryin’ to take advantage of all the chaos and make some money. And that I get, but there’s…”

“Whatcha doin?”, you asked.

“Oh, bam! Right there!”, Joaquin stopped, leaning over you to show his screen to you and Sam. He was close enough that you felt flustered as your cheeks began to burn. Hovering on the screen was a red image of a hand holding the Earth.

“You see these guys? They’re guys you gotta worry about. I’ve been stumbling onto their manifestos on message boards. They're called the Flag Smashers.”

“I swear, everybody’s got a gimmick.”, you remarked, looking at Sam with a knowing look. You’d been in the game since you discovered your abilities at the age of fourteen.

“Is that a new thing? Bad guys give themselves bad names.”

“There’s a lot worse names than that one.”, Joaquin’s eyebrows perked up.

You creased your eyes, wondering, how it could get any worse than ‘Flag Smashers’.

“But basically, they think that the world was better during The Blip. Trust me, it wasn’t.”

You sigh, eyes cast down on the table as you think over it.

Five years.

All of your friends and family who remained had moved on for five years without you, thinking you were dead. That was, until the living Avengers fought to bring everyone back. Although, not without losing a few in the process.

“Trust me. Every time something gets better for one group, it's worse for another.”, Sam stated.

“Yeah. Essentially, these people, they want a world that’s unified without borders. So you could see why a lot of people are into that.”

“Yeah, keep an eye on it. If anything gets serious, you let me know.”

A massive grin spread over Joaquin’s features,

“No doubt. I’ll...I’ll, uh...I’ll track the online chatter, see what they’re saying.”

You smile at Joaquin’s eager nature and pure smile. It was cute how he went from First Lieutenant to fanboy in mere seconds.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, urging your attention. You gripped Joaquin’s shoulder as you stood to take the call,

“I’ll be right back.”

Sam had a knowing look on his face as he looked from the hand you rested on Joaquin’s shoulder to the affection in Joaquin’s eyes as you drifted off to the side.

“This is Y/N.”, you answered.

Silence reverberated from the caller’s end.

“Hello?”

“Y/N...It’s...It’s Bucky.”

“Hey, how are you doing?”, you crossed your arms, still gripping the phone in one hand.

“I’m fine.”

“How’s therapy going?”

“It’s going...The usual, you know?”

“Bucky...you know that I’m always here, right? Whenever you want to talk or just sit in silence, I’m there.”

“Yeah I know.”, he whispered on the other end, leaning against his couch on the floor.

“I mean it. My doors are always open. Not literally, but who’s going to mess with little ol’ me?”, you joked.

Bucky let out a breathy laugh,

“Thanks.”

“No need to thank me, Buck. Just take care of yourself, okay?”, you looked over at the boys who stared back at you as you crept closer to the table.

You heard Bucky sigh,

“When do you get back?”

“Sam and I depart soon so I should be back in the States by tomorrow.”

“Alright, take care...Bye, Y/N.”

“See you soon, Buck.”, you ended the call.

“Was that Buckaroo?”, Sam asked as you sat down.

You rolled your eyes,

“Yes, it was.”

Sam turned his head in confusion,

“I’ve been tryin’ to get that man to answer my texts for weeks and nothing. How did you get him to call you?”

Sam saw the smile retreat from Joaquin’s face at the mention.

“I guess we’re closer than you are. Also, could be the fact you call him names like - Oh, I don’t know - Cyborg, Terminator, Barnes and Noble?”, you suggested with raised eyebrows.

“Nah, can’t be that.”, Sam dismissed it.

“Check it. We’re headed back to DC.”

“Alright.”, you grabbed your bag off the floor.

“Before I go. Joaquin?”

Joaquin perked up, his attention solely on you.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t forget to keep me updated on the Smashers chatter. We make a pretty good team.”

“Alright, yeah...yeah, of course. I...Uh,”, he fumbled.

“You should probably give him your phone number so he can call you.”, Sam snipped from behind you.

Joaquin nervously laughed,

“Having your number would make it a whole lot easier.”

You shook your head as you reached over and gripped his wrist, grabbing his phone to enter your details.

“Done.”, you handed Joaquin his phone back.

He slipped his hands in his pockets,

“So...I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”

A grin spread across your mouth as you tugged a bag over your shoulder,

“I guess so, Flyboy.”

“And I’m still here.”, Sam reminded you, earning a smack on the back of the head from you.

“Hey!”

***

Thanks for reading, lovely! Comment, tag and reblog! Let me know your thoughts and if you have any questions or prompts, don’t be afraid to ask! xx

ALSO, tag me if YOU write any Joaquin Torres fics.

TAGS:

@remmysbounty @cjsinkythoughts @merceret @samscaptain @gryffindorwriter

#joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x y/n #joaquin torres imagines #joaquin torres fic #bucky barnes #winter soldier #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #TFATWS x reader #TFATWS x y/n #TFATWS fic

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svnflowervol666 · 4 years

Text

Ma Petite Chérie: Babymoon (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Read more from this little universe, Ma Petite Chérie, in my masterlist!

Summary: Harry and Y/N go on their babymoon.

Warnings: pregnancy, smut, fluff

Word Count: 6.4k

Author’s Note: Hello! I wrote this in order to cross off a few requests. I promised Harry and Y/N would have a baby of their own, plus I get asks all of the time to write pregnancy sex - specifically awkward, giggly pregnancy sex. I also got one about Harry getting a love boner, so here is my attempt at shoving all of that down your throat at once. Try not to choke :-) I also just reallllllly love Harry, Y/N, and Tallulah, so I wanted to give them some more love. Also made this one pornstache!Harry, so, there’s that. And one last thing...I know the verb tense is way off in this but I could not be arsed to edit it so plz don’t drag me. I hope everyone enjoys! Take care and TPWK.

“Oh my god,” Y/N huffed as she collapsed on the plush sofa in the living room of the cottage.

“It feels so fucking good out here by the water.”

“Breeze is nice, innit?” Harry replied as he rummaged through the kitchen cabinets to check out how well the place he’d rented for the week was stocked.

“Beats going t’ France at the end of June. Think I’m kinda gettin’ tired of Paris t’ be honest.”

“That is quite possibly the snobbiest thing I’ve ever heard you say, Mr. Styles,” she said with a laugh as she began to flip through the tourist brochures that were left on the coffee table.

Not that they’d be partaking in any of it, no. Their plan was to hole up in the quaint, Scottish cottage that sat right on the coast of the North Sea for the whole week, not even planning on changing out of their pajamas.

It was their babymoon after all - a time of peace and tranquility before the arrival of their first child together.

Harry hummed and he made his way from the kitchen to where Y/N was seated on the couch. He stood behind her, knees knocking against the back of the sofa as he crouched down and wrapped his arms around her very large, very swollen belly.

“If I recall correctly, Mrs. Styles, I sat my injured arse in a stiff train seat to Edinburgh for five hours because someone was too scared to fly even though they were cleared to do so by three separate doctors.”

“’M not Mrs. Styles for another year and a half,” Y/N muttered under her breath, albeit not trying to keep Harry from hearing it in the slightest.

Harry snickered into her neck, then playfully nipped her earlobe with his teeth as he whispered.

“Not my fault yeh got knocked up and we had t’ push the wedding.”

“It is very much your fault, Harry,” Y/N swatted at his face, fingers first brushing his jawline that was covered in a rough stubble and then just barely tracing the full-blown mustache that sat like a caterpillar above his bright pink top lip.

Harry smirked down at her, nostrils flaring wide and lips disappearing inside of his mouth.

“How’s your rib?” Y/N asked suddenly.

“Good. Why?” Harry’s brows quickly furrowed together in confusion as to why she was asking about his injury.

“Might have to ride that later if you’ve got the lungs for it,” she tapped her index and middle fingers along her philtrum, right where Harry’s mustache sat on his own face.

Her blunt lewdness had Harry’s cock immediately growing stiff in his pants. It had been a while. His injury coupled with her being in the last trimester of her pregnancy had left them both feeling unsatisfied for the past several weeks. Maybe this babymoon would prove to be relaxing not only because Harry and Y/N get to spend a week without a rambunctious almost six-year-old screaming at all hours of the day, but for other reasons too.

“Think I’d actually drop dead from happiness if yeh sat on m’ face right now, lovie. But, before yeh get too comfortable with that idea, we need t’ head into town. Kitchen’s only got the necessities, and I doubt yeh want t’ eat homemade bread for a week.”

“I’m sure you’d love to eat homemade bread for a week,” Y/N jested, poking fun at Harry’s latest obsession with the carb-filled food.

“Remind me again why I put up with you?” Harry toyed as he extended his arms out towards Y/N to use as leverage to help her hoist herself up from the couch.

When she regains her balance, she lifts herself up just slightly to press a quick kiss to Harry’s lips that he happily accepts. Y/N hums and jokingly checks the imaginary watch that sits on her wrist.

“How much time do you have? That list is pretty long.”

The trip to one of the only supermarkets in the small part of Edinburgh that they were staying in had proved to be rather tiring, because Harry opted to use store-bought pasta instead of making his own - something he never does. Maybe it was his healing rib causing him to be short-winded, but he simply could not bring himself to hand-make the pasta they chose to have for dinner that night. He bitched about it all night, about how it wasn’t as chewy as it should be and how it would have tasted much better if he would have just made it himself, but it still didn’t deter him from helping himself to a second serving.

He claimed it was because while he did use pre-cooked pasta, he didn’t use sauce from a jar and made his own from fresh tomatoes and that was the appeal. Y/N just thinks Harry likes to complain and listen to himself talk.

After dinner, just as the sun was setting and Harry and Y/N were waiting for their pasta to digest before they dove into the box of fresh pastries from a bakery they found along the way, they decided to take a walk around the property. The renovated, stone cottage that was overgrown with vines and leaves sat along a short cliffside that overlooked the North Sea. It was a short walk down the cliff that brought them to the beach, where mist from the ocean whisped around their legs and ankles like a thin veil of smoke. While it was the middle of summer, Scotland’s persistent rain showers and their proximity to the water never made it too hot to bear.

“Lulah would love it out here. We’ll have to bring her when the baby’s older.”

“She realIy would,” Harry agreed as he wrapped his sweater further around his chest.

“Know yeh didn’t give birth t’ her, but I swear you two are just alike sometimes. Absolutely hates bein’ hot and gettin’ sweaty just like you.”

Y/N smiled softly and knowingly at Harry before reaching into the pocket of the patchwork sweater of Harry’s that she’d stolen for their stroll on the beach for her phone.

“I’m gonna call her.”

She picked up on the third ring, Y/N’s phone screen then illuminated with a live image of a gap-toothed Tallulah. Well, it’s Mitch’s phone, but she’d been waiting for this promised FaceTime call all day so of course she’s quick to answer.

“Mummy!”

Both Y/N’s and Harry’s heart swelled in their chest when they heard Tallulah speak. It had been several months since she’d decided to start referring to Y/N as her mother, but neither of them had grown used to it just yet. Y/N felt a sense of achievement in “earning” the title of being Tallulah’s mum after all of the years she’d spent with her, and Harry felt a sense of resolution. His family was a real family now, and not just a patchwork of awkward relationships and trust issues. Y/N was Tallulah’s mum and she was now seven months pregnant with their own child and they’d be married by the end of next year. He was actually there to see his child grow this time, they weren’t a secret kept from him out of spite. He’d be there for all of it, even the gross and bloody and goopy bits. And he’d never felt more complete.

“Hi, baby,” Y/N beamed from ear to ear.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re walking on the beach,” Y/N answered.

“Want to see it?”

The five-year-old (five and three-quarters if you asked Tallulah herself) nodded quickly, and Y/N then flipped the camera around to show her the view of the water. Y/N pointed out their cottage from where they stood in the sand, turning the camera to Harry briefly as he held up a peace sign so Tallulah could see that her dad was also on the beach with her. She told her all about the train ride there and how Harry almost slipped and broke his face when was carrying his and Y/N’s luggage into the cottage.

Harry listened to his two little loves talk back and forth with the biggest smile on his face as he absent-mindedly scoured the beach for rocks he could skip along the water. He noticed whenever Tallulah said something that Y/N thought was funny, she had to cup her bump with her hand and forearm to keep it from shaking her entire body. She told him she hated laughing now, because it made her look like Santa Claus, but Harry thought she couldn’t look more beautiful.

“That’s so pretty! Can we all go when the baby is here?” Tallulah asked, puckering into a pout as she begged.

“I think that’s a great idea, Lulah. We were just talking about that, weren’t we, Harry?”

Harry perked up from where he had been washing a sandy shell off in the ocean and suddenly appeared in view of the camera and took the phone from Y/N.

“Hmm?” he asked as he studied Tallulah’s appearance.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Mitch to watch his baby girl while he went away for a week with his other baby girl, it was that him and Sarah voluntarily asked to babysit Tallulah and that’s what made him so apprehensive to accept their offer. There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary about a sleepover at Uncle Mitch and Aunt Sarah’s every now and then, but to want to watch his daughter for an entire week certainly was. Harry felt like Mitch was plotting against him and that he’d come back to Tallulah with bright blue hair and bangs or she’d be sporting the world’s worst potty mouth when she came home, but so far that didn’t seem to be the case.

She was wearing Harry’s “Dream Boat” shirt that she’d claimed as her own a few years back when Y/N had taught her to wear her father’s clothes when she missed him because the smell would remind her of him (he had to steal it back and sleep in it a few times every now and then to keep his scent on it), and her long, brown hair was damp and neatly braided into two plaits and hanging off her shoulders. That had to have been Sarah’s doing, because Harry knew Mitch could barely put his own hair into a ponytail without creating several lumps and redoing it eighteen times before it looked presentable - meaning he certainly wouldn’t have been able to make a five-year-old sit still long enough to braid her hair perfectly.

She looked fine, though. Happy, healthy, certainly didn’t have blue hair or bangs and hadn’t said a single naughty thing since she’d been on the phone with Y/N.

“Lulah wants us to come back here after the baby’s born and take her with us,” Y/N beamed.

“I think we can work that out. Sounds quite lovely, actually,” Harry concurred.

“Yeh bein’ good for Mitch and Sarah?”

“Mhmm,” Tallulah nodded.

“We had pizza for dinner.”

“That sounds yummy,” Harry enthused, trying to let his daughter know he had his full attention.

“It was bery good,” she sighed.

There was a long pause before Tallulah blurted out suddenly in the most serious tone, “When are you gonna shave the rest of your mustache? Mitchy was making fun of you today.”

Harry was caught between a gasp and a laugh, which resulted in him choking on his own spit. Y/N turned on her heels in the sand to look at him with wide eyes.

“You okay?” Y/N mouthed quietly to Harry, completely oblivious to everything that had happened in the last thirty seconds.

Harry nodded, wiping the involuntary tears from his eyes as he coughed himself back to life and regained his composure.

“What exactly did Uncle Mitch say about my mustache?” he prodded.

Tallulah shrugged, subconsciously wiggling her loose bottom tooth with her tongue.

“Don’t ‘member. Just that you look weird with it.”

“Well that’s not a very nice thing t’ say, is it?”

“Mummy said you look weird, too,” Tallulah spouted without hesitation.

Her comment left Y/N’s mouth agape, covering her smile with her palm as Harry’s raised eyebrows feigned offense in her direction.

“She did?” Harry asked sarcastically, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Yeah,” Tallulah sighed as if it was exhausting having to tell your own father that his facial hair looks off-putting.

“I think you should shave it, too. It’s scratchy when you kiss me goodnight.”

All Harry could offer in return was stunned laughter while Y/N hid her face in Harry’s peck. Her bump pressed lightly into his and even though he was pretending to be mad at her, he wouldn’t dare think about pushing her off of him - not while she was this warm and cozy against his chest.

“Well, if mummy really hates it I suppose I’ll get rid of it. But,” Harry pauses and pulls Y/N out from where she had burrowed her face into his sweater.

“I think I might know a trick that’ll convince her t’ let me keep i-”

“Enough!” Y/N exclaimed, clamping both of her hands around Harry’s mouth.

Harry chuckled against her palm and poked his tongue through his lips to lick her fingers, which sent her hands flying back down to her leggings so she could wipe them dry.

“I swear to god, Harry. You’re five years old,” she joked with a disgusted expression on her face, to which Tallulah had something to say to that.

“No, I’m five years old!”

The two adults laughed in unison.

“Alright, Lulah. We’re gonna go inside now. ‘S gettin’ kinda cold out,” Harry said.

“We’ll call you tomorrow before bed. Alright, lovebug?” Y/N added.

“Okay,” Tallulah huffed.

“We love you, Lulah,” Harry spoke softly into the microphone.

“Love you, too...Daddy wait!”

“What is it?” he asked.

“Give the baby kisses for me. And no bikes!”

Harry wanted to laugh, but he also wanted to cry, so he settled on a closed-mouthed smile that was enough to convince Tallulah that he was unbothered by what she said.

“Kisses for the baby and no bikes. Got it,” he nodded.

“Okay, I’m gonna go eat some sweets with Sarah!” the child yelled, suddenly energetic like she had temporarily forgotten that her and Sarah had baked cookies twenty minutes before Y/N called.

“Alright, but it’s almost bed time so not too m-!” was all Harry could answer to before his daughter ended the call and presumably raced to where ever Sarah was in their house.

“‘S like she doesn’t even miss us,” Harry mumbled as he placed Y/N’s phone in his back pocket and began walking back up to the cottage with his arm wrapped around Y/N’s shoulder.

Y/N hummed, basking in the warmth that radiated from Harry’s chest as he held her.

“They’re just buttering her up. She’ll be crying to leave by the time we get back.”

“Just don’t really know why they were so keen on keepin’ her t’ be honest.”

Harry positioned himself one step behind her as they walked up the stone steps together, keeping one hand on the small of her back. Y/N peered over her shoulder at him, her tight lips curling up into a smirk as if to say she knew something he didn’t.

“What?” Harry asked.

Y/N shrugged, “Promised I wouldn’t tell.”

Harry clearly didn’t like that answer, because he moved his hand that was supporting her waist and quickly pinched her bum.

“Tell me,” he demanded, eyebrows scrunched together and lips pursed together in what could be considered a childish pout that mimicked Tallulah’s.

Y/N sucked her lips into her mouth, contemplating whether or not she should spill the beans on the news Sarah had shared with her a few weeks prior.

“They’re gonna start trying for a baby soon,” she whispered as if were a long-kept secret told in a room full of nosey people despite the two of them being alone on the otherwise desolate beach.

Harry’s ears perked up, a wide smile adorning his face from ear to ear.

“No fucking way,” he mumbled, and suddenly all of Mitch’s incessant hammering of baby questions he’d sent Harry’s way in the past few months suddenly making a lot of sense.

Harry thought he was trying to be a good friend and stay engaged in Y/N’s pregnancy, but now he understands the real reason behind his behavior.

Y/N nodded deviously as they make their way into the living room of the cottage.

“They’ve been asking everyone they know with kids to let them come over just to see if they can handle it. I mean, if you ask me, I think they’ll do great. Nothing wrong with trying it before buying it, I guess,” she said with a shrug.

“God, he’s gonna be such a good dad,” Harry was practically beaming for his closest friend.

“I know,” Y/N agreed, walking over to Harry to hold both sides of his head in her hands as if he was a disobedient puppy being disciplined.

Her bump prevented her from getting too close to Harry’s chest, the roundest part of her belly nudging Harry’s tummy.

“They’re both very excited. Which is why, when he finally decides to tell you, you have to act surprised. Act like he told you you just won the lottery or something. Alright?”

Harry sarcastically changed his facial expression to mock bewilderment. His eyebrows rose well off into his forehead and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor as he gasped.

“How’s that? Think he’ll buy it?”

Y/N jokingly jabbed him in the shoulder.

“Smartass. I’m going to take a shower. I’m sticky and I smell like the ocean.”

“Guess I gotta keep workin’ on it, then.”

When he’s done cleaning up what was left of their dinner, he heads to the master bedroom with the intention of washing up in the shower after Y/N. He’s messing around with the A/C unit on the window to make sure it’s not set to a temperature that will smother them in their sleep and unpacking their luggage into the wooden dresser, where an antique turntable rests.

Stacked long the side of the record player, there was a handful of old vinyl, most of which Harry either recognized or new very well. He was actually shocked to find a Shuggie Otis album in the collection, to which he quickly slipped the record out of the worn sleeve and set the needle to the edge and waited for the soft sound to fill the room while he worked.

“That thing works?” Y/N’s voice broke up the old 70s tune as she exited the bathroom with her hair tied up with one of Harry’s scrunchies that she stole out of his toiletry bag, wrapped in only a towel that barely fit around her form.

“I know,” Harry agreed, “Needs a new needle but other than that ‘s in pretty good shape.”

“Leave it to you to find a rental with 70s records in the bedroom,” there was a lighthearted tone in her voice as Y/N poked fun at him.

She padded over to her luggage in the corner of the room for a change of clothes, only to realize Harry had unpacked it all for them. As she’s rummaging through the drawers trying to figure out where Harry had put what, she lets her towel drop to the floor freely.

Harry doesn’t know how must time has passed, but he knows he’s staring. He’s staring at the water droplets that drip from the stray hairs on the nape of her neck and run down her bare back. He’s staring at the swell of her stomach where their baby lies, at the faded, almost-shiny stretch marks on the sides and the newer, darker ones on the underside that had only recently broken through. He’s staring at the bracelet on her wrist, the one that’s braided pink and blue with three beads on it - one ‘H’, one ‘T’ and one heart. Tallulah made it for her at school one day and told her the heart was for the baby and also because she loved her. It was hanging on by its last few threads, threatening to snap as each day passed, but she refused to take it off.

All he does know is that he loves her so much that he thinks none of this is real and that he’ll wake up one day and be in his early twenties again with no direction in life and the insidious feeling that he’ll die alone without ever finding his “person.” It’s when Y/N called out to him and snapped him out of his thoughts that he’s realized his underwear are suddenly feeling incredibly tight.

“Har,” Y/N beckoned him away from whatever had been occupying his brain.

“Hmm?”

He resituated himself on the bed and crossed his legs in an attempt to hide himself from her.

“I said the hot water in there’s kinda shit, so you’ll probably want to wait a little bit before you get in.”

“‘S alright,” Harry dismisses, “Come ‘ere.”

He draws her towards him with an outstretched hand, navigating her around the bedpost and over to the side where he had been sitting. With the gentlest of touches, he runs his fingers over her bare legs. The coolness of his rings don’t make well with her skin that was still extremely warm from her shower, causing hundreds of tiny goosebumps to erupt around her thighs. Harry raises her shirt, one of his that she stole when her own clothes became too uncomfortable, but even now she’s nearly stretching this one to its limit, and rests it on top of her bump.

She doesn’t question him, doesn’t chastise him. She lets him love on her, lets him press kisses to her skin just above her belly button (making sure to give an extra one from Tallulah per her request) and rest his cheek against her stomach while his other hand feels around on the other side in hopes to feel the baby move or kick or do something to let him know that they’re there. Lucky for Harry, baby knows when their dad is around and is quick to make themselves known, so he takes a second to savor these last few moment he’ll have with his newest bub before they’re earth-side in a little less than two months.

Y/N lets him be because she knows how important this is to Harry. She knows that he never got these moments with Tallulah and that it’s one of the things that plagued him during those nights where he feels lonely despite her being asleep right next to him. He never got to feel her kick in her mum’s tummy and he didn’t get to see her grow from the size of a pea to the size of a melon before she was welcomed by her parents and the rest of her family that had been waiting anxiously for her arrival.

No, Tallulah was dropped on his doorstep like a wet kitten in the middle of the night. Shivering and crying and just needing someone to hold her and tell her that it was going to be alright because her mother had decided she’d be better off elsewhere. Of course, she was too small to remember, but Harry could never forget it.

So, it’s the least she can do. To let Harry love on her. Love on them.

Her eyes catch his once or twice and she can see the gears in his head turning. There’s something on his mind and he’s hesitant to tell her what it is. Y/N lifts his head by tilting his chin up, her index finger brushing over the healed scar on the underside of his jaw from a few months prior.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” she whispered.

Harry shakes his head, a grin on his lips.

“‘M just really, really happy right now. Happy tha’ I’m here w’ you.”

Y/N smiles back at him genuinely before pulling away from his grasp and gesturing to his lap.

“And I’m happy that I’m here with you. Seems like your little friend is really happy, too.”

A soft groan emits from Harry chest, having realized he’d uncrossed his legs at some point and his very prominent bulge had come into Y/N’s view.

“Sorry, lovie. Didn’t mean t’ make it like tha-”

“I’m just messing with you. You know,” she ponders, “I was half-way kidding when I asked about your lungs earlier. But... This will be the last time we’re kid-free for a while,” she taunted.

“Are yeh asking?” Harry jests and points his thumb towards the bathroom door, “‘Cos I was actually plannin’ on just having a wank in the shower.”

“Oh, okay,” Y/N shrugs and moves his hands off of her waist as she pretends to walk towards the living room.

Before she can take two steps, Harry’s standing up and pulling her back into him for a kiss. It’s full of heat and passion and almost knocks Y/N off of her feet. He cradles her head in his large hands and moves to whisper in her ear.

“Really gonna let me fuck yeh?”

A quiet chuckle escapes her lips, to which she replies, “What else did you think we were gonna do all week?”

He’s unable to bite back his own laugh, and it’s the sweetest sound to ever grace Y/N’s ears.

“Then get on the bed and take yeh clothes off.”

They work quickly, as they’ve conditioned themselves to do over the years of squeezing in any time they can together before they’re interrupted. Y/N lies back on her elbows as she waits for Harry to undo his pants and her breath catches in her throat when his boxers hit the floor.

His cock is hard, not fully, but the sight of the first few beads of glistening precum causes a shiver to run down her spine. She’s blown him a handful of times since he’s been in recovery, but she’s been far too pregnant and he’s been far too injured lately to engage in any kind of actual fun. It’s safe to say that they’re both more than ready.

Harry scratches at his scalp, unsure of how to word his questions as he looks her body up and down.

“How do you...erm...how do you wanna-?”

“My stomach, please,” Y/N says with a laugh.

She quickly reaches for one of the pillows behind her and gets on all fours, wedging the object underneath her bump to keep some of the weight off of her back. Slowly, she arches her spine down towards the mattress, and the glimpse Harry catches of her pussy through the light of the setting sun is enough to send another jolt straight to his cock.

Harry wastes no time joining her on the bed, caressing her hips and moving back to massage the plump skin of her ass. He leans down on top of her, flips her hair over to one side, and begins sucking on the sensitive skin between her neck and jaw.

“Gonna let me taste yeh first, right?” he mumbles into her skin.

Y/N hums in response, attempting to rock backwards in order to feel Harry’s cock rub against her backside. She hears Harry laugh, presumably because he’s caught on to her neediness, so it only pushes him further to be the tease he’s notorious for being.

He sponges wet kisses down her back, getting a rise out of every audible breath that leaves Y/N’s throat.

“Relax, baby,” Harry says when he feels her growing tenser as his kisses travel closer to where she needs him the most.

“Gonna get yeh there. Just gotta be patient.”

Harry presses one last kiss on the final notch of her spine before using one of his hands to spread her legs open just a little bit further. When he parts the globes of her ass, his mouth waters. Her pussy is shimmering with her arousal, perfect and on display just for him.

He tests the waters by running the tip of his tongue from her clit up to her center and he hears a sigh of relief leave Y/N’s lungs at the contact. Next, he’s massaging her folds, exploring her and refamiliarizing himself with the way she tasted. Harry feels her relax into the mattress with each lap of his tongue against her, silently begging him for more. His tentativeness allows him to read her body language and he draws back momentarily to spread her lips apart with his middle and index finger.

The cool air against her core stuns Y/N, but is quickly drowned out with a moan when she feels Harry’s warm saliva drip from her ass down to her clit. His mouth is back on her before she can recover from the sensation, lapping her up and flicking at her clit with his tongue and driving her mad. He’s got his nose buried inside of her as he devours her in the way that he’s really been yearning to for months (he doesn’t count the late night or early morning quickies because he claims he never gets to spend as much time taking care of her as he really wants to). The scruff from his mustache is staunch against her soft folds, but Harry’s tongue is quick to soothe the burn and she loves it.

He smirks against her as she lets out a particularly loud moan when his facial hair brushes against her clit. What was that about shaving my mustache? he thinks to himself but does not dare say aloud.

When he senses that she needs even more, his fingers move from spreading her apart to pressing against her opening. Gathering her wetness on his digits, he slowly pumps them in and out of her. Y/N’s mewls and whimpers are like music to his ears and only spurs him on further. He ruts his hips against the comforter, anything to relieve the throbbing between his legs that is a result of how pliable she’s become for him. She’s soaking the rings on his fingers in the most picture-perfect way and Harry truly genuinely can’t get enough of it; and neither can she. Which is why he’s confused when one of her hands swings around her backside to stop Harry from working her open.

“Har-” she pants.

He withdrawals all contact immediately and peaks his head around to look at her face.

“Yeh good?” he asks as she’s stands up on her knees and turns around to face him.

“‘M great. Wanna be on top now,” she says, her lips plump and swollen from biting down on them so harshly that she nearly drew blood.

“You sure? Yeh don’t want me t’ finish yeh first?”

His eyes dart from her lust-blown eyes to her round belly.

“Mhm. Now lay your pretty ass down before I change my mind.”

She doesn’t have to tell him twice and he’s rolling over on his back, working his way to prop himself up against the headboard. His cock is red and leaking against his stomach, excruciatingly waiting to be buried inside of his girl. He wonders why she’s staring at him with an annoyed expression on her face, but then she speaks up.

“Do you see how pregnant I am? Gonna have to lay all the way down, shit head.”

He does as he’s told and he’s honestly scared that he’ll cum in five seconds if she doesn’t get on with it.

“I swear to god, if you laugh at me,” she grunts as she straddles his waist, “I’ll cut it off.”

“‘M not gonna lau-”

It’s his turn to moan aloud when she grips onto his cock, running it across her folds to collect as much wetness as she can before she allows him to stretch her out. He’s focusing so much on not losing it right then and there that he doesn’t realize she’s stopped and is waiting for the go-ahead. Through his dark, thick lashes, he nods; as if she would have to ask.

Harry reaches for her hands as she lowers herself onto him, the two of them squeezing a bit too harshly when she reaches the last few inches. The burn consumes Y/N from the inside and out, but it’s never felt so right to either of them.

She’s not moving just yet, but her cunt is pulsing around him and it feels almost as good as the real thing. They’re staring at each other, both with looks that relay more than words.

“Love you,” Harry’s face softens as he looks up at her.

“Love you, too,” Y/N smiles as she leans down as far as she can in search of a kiss.

He meets her in the middle and their lips find one another and mash together in harmony. The rocking of their hips reminds both of them what they’re actually doing, and causes both of them to gasp at the way Y/N pumped Harry half-way in and out of her.

When she’s settled back down on the base of his cock, she begins slowly rutting herself back and forth. It takes her just a little bit longer than usual to work up a steady rhythm, but when she’s got it, boy does she got it and it feels so fucking good. The tip of Harry’s cock is pressing against the deepest parts of her and before she knows it, there’s a warm coil winding up in her tummy that bounds itself tighter and tighter inside of her.

She needs to go faster and she needs to go faster now, so she braces her hands on Harry’s chest as she continues to fuck herself on Harry’s cock. Harry lets out a sound that she can’t tell apart between a groan of pleasure and one of pain. His hands dart quickly from where they’d been gripping at her thighs to grip at her wrists.

“Can’t do tha’, lovie. Not the ribs.”

“Shit,” she laughs, subconsciously clenching down on his shaft in the process.

“Sorry.”

“‘S okay,” Harry reassures her as he repositions her hands on his shoulders so she can still have something to grab on to.

“Keep going.”

Her bump is now cradled against Harry’s stomach and it allows her to find relief in the way that her clit is brushing against the trimmed nest of hair that lies around the base of his thick, throbbing cock. He’s twitching inside of her so much that she can feel it alongside her thrusts as they continue. They both won’t last much longer and they know it.

“‘M getting close.”

“I know,” Harry pants beneath her.

She switches positions, now with her fingers digging so hard into the meat of Harry’s thighs that her knuckles are changing color. She’s able to lift her hips up and down a bit more from this angle, and it allows Harry’s cock to nudge against her sweet spot.

“Feels so good, H,” she whimpers so quietly that almost Harry couldn’t even hear it.

“‘S that it? Right there?” he mocks as he works at meeting her thrusts with his own.

The best he gets from Y/N is a nod as she focuses the best she can on getting herself there. She’s coating him with her juices with each pump and with one glance down at where they’re joined together nearly shoots Harry over the edge.

“Yeh gonna cum f’ me?” Harry asks as his thumb reaches under her to begin rubbing circles on her clit.

“Gonna give me a good one?”

His movements coupled with his words catalyze the tightness within her, threatening to snap at any moment. She’s definitely sweaty and tired of being on top, but she’s so close now that she wills away the pain in her lower back and thighs.

“Come on, bunny. Give it to me.”

He works with that he can and makes sure he’s slamming into her as deep as he can, speeding up the pace he’s making with her clit in the process.

She cums with a strangled, “Fuck,” and a shrill cry of his name, and that’s all he needs to meet his end as well. The world is black and quiet for the two of them for just a brief moment, and then they’re both seeing all of the stars in the galaxy.

Her walls are coated with the warm ropes of his seed and spills out of her as she milks him, coaxing all she can out of both hers and Harry’s orgasms. Y/N can feel the last few twitches of Harry’s cock inside of her and her movements slow to a stop.

His cum is splashed along her inner thighs and around Harry’s shaft, and they’re both struggling to catch their breath. Y/N feels sorry for him for a brief second when she sees him clutching onto the left side of his ribs, but then she remembers the situation that put him there in the first place and great incredible fuck she just gave him and so she decides not to dwell on it too much.

Serves him right.

She collapses on the bed beside him, the two of them staring idly at the ceiling. It’s nearly dark now, the sun having set long ago and only their silhouettes are visible in the moonlight. Harry reaches over to pet her cheek and press a kiss into her hair as their breathing slowly but surely evens out and they come to.

They’re both too tired and fucked out to have a lucid conversation, so they’ll save that for tomorrow. No. Right now was for cuddles and falling asleep to the sounds of each other’s soft breaths and the peace of mind knowing that they can do this every single night for the rest of their lives if they wanted to because they’re getting married and they have a family together and they’re so in love with each other that nothing else matters.

When Y/N finally manages to muster up the energy to lift herself from the mattress and waddle to the bathroom, Harry breaks the silence.

“Hey,” his voice is calm and collected and there’s a smirk on his face.

“Hmm?” she answers as she cranes her neck and braces herself on the door frame of the master bathroom.

Her other hand is caressing her bump, a tick that she’d picked up over the months whenever she wasn’t doing anything important.

“Sit on m’ face in the morning?”

There’s that laugh again. The one that Harry loves and swears came straight from the angels above.

“With pleasure,” she winks as the door closes behind her.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #dad!harry x reader #dad!harry styles #dad!harry #dad!harry styles x reader #dad!harry x pregnant!reader #harry styles x pregnant!reader

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thefairyletters · 3 years

Text

✨ Spooky Recs✨

I read a lot of fanfictions... More than I am proud of. I thought I should recommend as I go before I lose sight of their existence among the sea of my favorites.

Since past few days I have been craving for some creepy, unnerving fanfics that will keep me restless and awake at night. I remembered my favorites and wanted to read more of the kind so I looked up, patiently going through each story that sounded compelling. I also revisited old stories for nostalgia's sake.

Of course, rare as they are, in Naruto fandom no less, it's even harder to find a horror and mystery fic that is well written, not dropped under 2 chapters, and really keeps your attention.

🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

Genre: Horror, Mystery, Comedy

I've rated 4 aspects of the work -

Writing – I don't judge writing based solely on the grammar and vocabulary. I also consider how the author expands upon a subject, if they are consistent with the facts, if they are able to keep the attention of the readers regardless of their creative writing skills.

Characters – If the characters are well-developed, in their given character, if OCs have any real significance to the story.

Plot – How gripping is the storyline, if the story sticks to its original plot, the structure of the story, plot holes.

Flow – Mother-of-slow-burn, slow-but-steady, steady, fast, I-am-speed

When the flowers cry : TCOOKIES777 || M || AO3/FFN || SasuSaku || Goth Horror || Post-Canon, set during Blank Period || Ongoing

When one of the greatest medical-nin in the world goes missing in what should have been a simple delivery to the Land of Spring’s Hidden Snow Village, the rest of Team 7 must reunite to find her. But even the most powerful team of shinobi will find themselves challenged in a battle against the supernatural. With Sasuke's return, vengeful ghosts of the past will test him and his love.

My thoughts : One of the best stories I've read in a while, and top tier SS stories. I read this in one sitting. I never listen to music while reading, preferring silence, but for this one, I suggest you do as the author says. Also, keep some tissues and food with you. This story is major in mystery and minor in horror but otherwise full of SS fluff.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 9/10

Flow: Steady, if a bit confusing (but that's why it's mystery)

Kyuro : silver_shot || T || AO3 || SasuSaku || Mystery || Post-Canon || Complete

“Oh,” says Naruto, “well, its sort of like that. Except in this village, the story has a way more darker ending – it basically goes like this: the girl and the guy plan to run away together. The guy steals a bunch of treasure, and stashes it away. But then, when he goes to get the girl at her village, he kills her and decides to run away with all that money. But then he is killed by the guards of the girls village and now they're both dead and the treasure is hidden away somewhere”. Sasuke stares blankly at the blond, “that story makes no sense”.

My thoughts : I know you must be thinking the same thing as Sasuke – "makes no sense". I did too, but it's a pretty cool short story. It lies on the funny, creepy side that slowly starts to lose its funny touch. SS makes stupid mistakes later on but it could be because they are MCs. The ending is very ambiguous. It's not my favorite mystery but it is something. Enjoyable read but not something I will pick again.

Writing: 8/10

Characters: 8/10

Plot: 8/10

Flow: Fast

Moon stuttering in the sky : xfrinz || T || AO3 || Gen || Mystery || Pre-Shippuden || One-shot

Kakashi is suspicious of many things about Haruno Sakura. Too many things about her don't make sense, with too many incongruous explanations.

My thoughts : Author of this story just summarised Pre-Shippuden in less than 4k words and made some tiny changes to it. Not much though. One of my favorite gen fics yet. Read it if you haven't yet. You'll feel more sad than thrilled tbh. But worth it.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: I-am-Speed

Breath mints : silver_shot || T || AO3 || SasuSaku || Comedy-Mystery || Post-Canon || Ongoing (maybe)

Their home no longer exists with the life it once had – in fact no settlement thrives anymore; they exist only in a snapshot that contradicts time itself. Families within their own homes sleep in a slumber that they cannot wake from. Those that were chatting on the street prior to the event simply drop their heads and remain unresponsive.

My thoughts : I picked it up for Mystery but I stayed for Comedy. But of course that's not to say supernatural elements in this story is not it, but it sure pales in comparison to effortless humor in this story. Lee and Kiba pair is something you don't see often but they get along too well here. Charactisation is on point as well. SS angst! + NS angst (but it's downplayed)

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 9/10

Flow: Steady

The Curse : sincerelyLen || T || FFN || SasuSaku || Horror || Post-Canon || Ongoing

Team 7 is unexpectedly assigned an S-Ranked Mission involving an unsolved mystery of 10 years. An eerie adventure that will test their teamwork, strengths, and greatest fears. Do you believe in Curses?

My thoughts : My all-time favourite horror Naruto fanfiction. To me, this sets the standard of how mystery and horror elements should be handled. I have never been able to get this story out of my mind even it's been years. Perfect charactisation of Team 7 with Smart-yet-Stupid!Sakura, I-can-fight-aliens-and-reanimated-corpses-but-keep-ghosts-away-from-me!Naruto and I-dont-get-paid-enough-for-this!Sasuke. I especially love OCs here. They kinda reminds me of Pillars from KnY. You must read this story, loosely based on Zombie apocalypse + curse concept.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: Slow-but-Steady

Silent High : Istoria || T || FFN || Gen || Mystery || Post-Canon || Complete

A bit of the Silent Hill series mixed in with Naruto. Trapped in an illusion whose rules are unknown, they struggle to find answers before darkness consumes them.

My thoughts : One of the best mystery fanfictions I've read. I especially loved how this story handled Genjutsu in the best possible way it could without it turning into some cliche, ghost story. Though really, this story has shown what my greatest fear actually is. I will never be able to leave my back open to a wheelchair. This story has simple writing yet it gives you creeps with the twists and turns. A must read one because it is unlike any other in this list.

Writing: 9/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: Steady

Silence of the Damned : Daystar Clarion || T || FFN || Gen || Psychological Horror, Mystery(?) || Pre-Shippuden || One-Shot

When Naruto wakes up to a dead body in his bathroom, he begins a quick spiral into madness.

My thoughts : Listen to Halsey's Control while reading this. Quite chilling, deals with mental issues and morbid but in a fascinating way. It gives a new meaning to Dark!Naruto, but one that actually makes sense. I never saw the ending coming... I had something else in mind and I was convinced it would be, but nope. Here's a sequel to this One-Shot (Uzumaki's War) which I never picked up.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 9/10

Plot: 9/10

Flow: Slow-but-steady

To the Victor : Letta || T || FFN || NaruSaku || Psychological Horror || Shippuden || One-Shot

Naruto loses the fight and Sakura is a trophy of war.

My thoughts : A very twisted NS, if you squint. It's not horror but it might as well be... it is still a disturbing story to see from the eyes of Sakura. Quite chilling to be in Sakura's shoes. But I love this because it is one shot and I loved the ending.

Writing: 9/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 8/10

Flow: Steady

Under the Skin : BukkakeNoJutsu || T || FFN || Team 8 || Body Horror || Pre-Shippuden || One-Shot

Your actions don't make you a monster. Your reasons do.

My thoughts : There's a reason why Shino is my favourite team 8 member. In my opinion, Shino is also one of the strongest Shinobi of his generation. His clan techniques are just that horrifying. This story is testament to that. He is so terrible.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: Slow-but-steady

Instant Message : Keelah || T || FFN || SasuSaku || Murder mystery || Modern AU || Incomplete

She gave him names to kill, in order not to be killed herself. But having blood on her hands was turning out to be much worse than dying. "…There's still round 2…3…4…" When does this game end? She asked. "Don't you see, Sakura?" He said, "It never does."

My thoughts : I read this story a long time ago and have read this twice. Personally, it has the most interesting concept of all stories in the list. It reminds me of Vocaloid series, "Bookmark of the end". Kind of. To those who are thinking of picking this up, go ahead! It's a great book and has one of the best suspense I've read in Fandom. BUT, it has been stopped in mother-of-all-cliffhangers and Author is MIA for 4 years now. But, all things considered, it remains to be one of the best stories I've read.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 9/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: Steady

Monomoth : Ohtze || M || FFN/AO3 || SasuSaku || Horror || AU || Incomplete

Everything ends, eventually. Eight years after the war, Sakura's unhinged and Sasuke's obsessed. The fields are filled with corpses.

My thoughts : I read this story right after "The Curse", my favourite. From what I remember, Sakura and Sasuke are both mentally deranged, in different ways. Lots of death and gore to stomach, so not for weak readers. There's no speak of fluff in this one. Zero, Zilch, Nada. I wouldn't call it your classic 'Horror', but it is very disturbing, so psychological horror is more like it. Don't eat food while reading this one. Did I mention how Sakura is mentally disturbed beyond help in this one? And Sasuke is obsessed. If these suit your tastes, go ahead.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 9/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: Slow

I hope you enjoy this list. Let me know your opinion in comments.

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imagine-loki · 3 years

Text

What About Trust, Chapter 9

TITLE: What About Trust CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 9 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki owns a bookshop on Midgard. He had to do something there to try and avoid getting any attention. But he’s not fond of having customers, is rather grumpy and guarded. But then he meets a bright, bubbly and trusting young woman who doesn’t recognise him. To his dismay, he finds himself becoming rather fond of the mortal. RATING: M

Cleo wasn’t sure why she felt so nervous. She had never felt nervous about being around Loki at all before, so why now?

She paced back and fore in her flat again, making sure it was clean and tidy enough for a guest. But she also didn’t want him to think she always lived like this, so didn’t go completely nuts with putting away her books and vinyl’s, most of them were spilled out onto the floor around her record player in the corner of her living room.

‘God, I hope Luke doesn’t think less of me when he sees this place.’ She muttered to herself and nibbled on her nails.

His apartment had really surprised her with how large it was, it was stunning. She was obsessed with his den though. But in comparison, her flat was… small and boring. Though she loved it, or she thought she did until she saw Loki’s place.

But she was also thinking about the kisses they’d shared those three days ago… The development in their relationship just from that morning. If it could even be called a relationship? She wasn’t sure. She hadn’t seen him since then as she had been working, but she had tomorrow off so thought it was a good idea to invite him over for dinner so she could cook this time.

Now she was wishing she’d asked him out somewhere instead.

The buzzer going off alerted her that it was far too late to go back on now. But when she rushed over and answered through the comms, hearing his voice instantly put her at ease and made her feel fuzzy inside.

‘Come on up.’ She said happily as she pressed the unlock button for the door.

By the time she got to her door, Loki was just coming up the stairs. He surprised her by giving her a bunch of flowers and a box of chocolates.

‘Aww, you big softie.’ She grinned up at him.

He leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips, making her heart flutter. ‘I can be soft when I want to be.’ He smirked, making her laugh.

‘Come on in.’ She stepped back and motioned him into her flat. ‘It’s uhm… Nothing special, especially compared to your place.’ She said sheepishly.

Loki shook his head. ‘Nonsense, darling. It’s perfect. So homely and cosy.’ He grinned as he looked around, loving how compact it was. It felt secure. The only reason he had a larger place by choice was to try and impress Thor, which did the trick.

While Cleo put the flowers into a vase, Loki took the time to have a nosey through her books and records. He also found a drawer that was filled with photographs from over the years, of her with family and friends. It made him smile to see.

‘Oh god, you found the dreaded drawer.’ She laughed as she brought a drink through from the kitchen for them both.

Loki grinned as he continued looking through some of them. He found some baby pictures and cooed over how adorable she was as a baby, while she just hid her face behind her hands the entire time. Then to her relief he finally joined her on the sofa. She had music playing, she’d set the record player up earlier before he arrived.

‘Who’s this playing?’ He asked curiously, rather enjoying the poppy type of music. It was annoyingly catchy he thought.

‘It’s Maroon 5. They’re one of my favourites.’ Cleo grinned. ‘Do you like them?’

Loki shrugged nonchalantly. ‘They’re alright, I suppose.’ Making her laugh.

‘I hope home-made pizza is ok for dinner. I’m not the best at cooking, but I have been told my pizzas are the bomb.’ Cleo said when the timer went off in the kitchen.

‘Sounds wonderful.’ Loki assured her, then a mischievous smile broke out. ‘I’m sure it won’t be any worse than the pizza from the takeaway in piccadilly gardens.’

‘Hey! That place is abysmal and should not be allowed to remain open.’ She growled at him as she headed through to the kitchen.

Loki chuckled. There was a place that was well known for how bad its pizzas were. How it was still even open was a complete mystery to everyone.

His eyes widened when he went through to the table to sit down and he saw the pizzas. They looked amazing, and smelled even better.

‘The tomatoes and onions are home grown.’ She said proudly as she passed Loki a plate and napkins.

‘I’m impressed. But let’s see what the taste test does.’ He teased her and cut a bit off to try.

She waited with bated breath to see if he would like it or not. His face was rather passive as he savoured the taste and evaluated it. But he went over the top, just taking his sweet time and humming now and then. Eventually he swallowed it, then made smacking noises as he continued to ‘taste’ it.

‘Now you’re just being a dick.’ Cleo grumbled at him, glaring across the table at him.

His face broke out into a large grin and he laughed. ‘I couldn’t resist… But wow, this is one of the best pizzas I’ve ever tasted, honestly. It’s delicious!’ He said and tucked straight into more.

Cleo beamed in delight as she started on hers as well.

‘I made the tomato sauce for it myself too, again with my own tomatoes.’

‘Very impressive indeed. But there is just one, little bad thing…’ He said before quickly eating a bit more. She felt her stomach drop. Oh no…

‘You are going to need to make me pizza on a daily basis now, because this is far too good for a one off.’

Cleo laughed and felt relieved that that was the only bad thing.

‘I’m not sure about daily, but I could certainly try weekly or fortnightly at least.’ She suggested.

‘Pizza date night sounds a delightful idea for a weekly occasion.’ Loki winked at her, making her blush.

‘Only if you do waffles weekly for me?’ She asked innocently and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

‘I’m sure that can be arranged.’ He purred. ‘Do I take it that means I can stay the night?’ He chanced asking, wolfing the last bit of his pizza down with a moan.

‘If you want to… of course you can. I don’t think I have a spare toothbrush though…’ She trailed off when Loki reached into his suit jacked and pulled out his toothbrush, a cheeky glint in his eye as she burst out laughing.

‘Ok, you’re prepared.’

‘Always.’ He grinned, then his eyes landed on her plate. She hadn’t touched her last bit for a few minutes. ‘Are you going to finish that?’

Cleo laughed again and slid the plate towards him. ‘Be my guest.’

After dinner and a glass of wine, Cleo took Loki down to her garden plot to show him what she was growing.

‘I thought you said it was a small plot you had?’ Loki nudged her playfully with his elbow.

‘It is!’

‘It’s quite substantial in my eyes.’

It was a good size. She had two rows of carrots, a row of onions and three rows of potatoes. Along with some strawberry plants and a raspberry bush. Surrounding the paved area where the greenhouse was, she had some potted flowers and borders with some perennial shrubs in it as well as some annual flowers at the front, it was really beautiful. The vegetable plants were covered with netting to stop the birds getting them. She had a small greenhouse where her tomato plants were growing, along with a few cucumber plants as well, that were slowly starting to grow.

‘What are these?’ Loki asked as he pointed to a tray with lots of tiny seedlings just sprouting.

‘Marigolds. They’re one of my favourite flowers. I bought a window pot for outside my bedroom, the sun always hits it for most of the day. So I plan to put them into there once they’re ready.’ She said excitedly.

‘Are these lava pebbles?’ He asked as he scooped up some of the light, small, pebbles that layered the shelves in the greenhouse.

‘Yep. They hold the heat really well and some moisture, they’re perfect for when everything is in early stages of growing.’ She nodded.

‘I really wouldn’t have taken you for much of a green thumb, being honest.’ He smirked. ‘But this is all incredible. My mother would’ve loved you.’ He blurted out.

‘Did she enjoy gardening?’ Cleo asked as she leaned against the shelf, feeling warmed inside that he thought his mother would love her.

‘She did enjoy tending to her gardens.’ Loki nodded and smiled fondly as he thought about her. ‘Especially flowers… You would’ve loved our gardens we had at home.’

Cleo reached over and lightly touched his hand with the tips of his fingers. He looked down and smiled as they tangled their fingers together.

‘She sounds like she was a lovely woman. You speak really fondly of her, it’s really nice.’ Cleo said quietly.

Loki felt a little tight chested, but he focused on Cleo. ‘I… I really miss her.’ He admitted. ‘I didn’t exactly do her proud when she was alive.’

Cleo frowned and squeezed his hand. ‘She would be proud of you now. Owning your own bookshop, with an amazing apartment.’

Loki smiled at the way she was trying to make him feel better. He wished he could open up to her properly, that she knew…

He turned more towards Cleo and tucked her hair back behind her ear, then he cupped her cheek and leaned down to kiss her. Their lips moulded together slowly, tasting each other. Loki slipped his other hand around her to her lower back, he gently pressed her into him so their bodies were flush together.

When they parted, she was rather flustered and so was he. He rubbed his thumb up and down her cheek and smiled. Then she started laughing a bit.

‘What is it?’ He raised an eyebrow.

‘It’s just… You’re too tall. I was on my tiptoes there and still could barely reach you, like out of a movie.’

Loki chuckled and simply kissed her again. Making sure to lean down even further this time for her.

They went back inside after sharing a few more kisses in the greenhouse. Loki plucked one of her books from the shelf and sat down on the sofa to read aloud to her. She loved his voice, so was in utter heaven when she lay down with her head on his lap. He couldn’t resist stroking her hair while he read, it was such a peaceful position to be in with the woman he wanted to be with. Neither of them could imagine a better evening, or better company.

Cleo was definitely starting to see a real soft side to him, that she had known was there from the start really. Though she would always love his mischievous and snarky attitude, too.

The two of them stayed up quite late, reading books and listening to music. Talking about some songs and the meanings of certain lyrics. Bickering playfully about some of it, too. When it was time for bed, Loki assumed he would be on the sofa.

But when Cleo got into her pjs she went to the living room and saw Loki in his boxers, sorting out the cushions on the sofa. Her breath was caught momentarily as she looked at his body, she knew he was strong but she never realised how fit he truly was under his clothes.

‘Uhm… You uh, can share my bed if you want? There should be room. The sofa isn’t exactly the comfiest.’ She said a little shyly.

‘Are you sure?’ Loki asked, surprised but pleased she asked.

‘Of course.’ She nodded a bit over eagerly, making him grin as he walked over to her. ‘Though you are warned, I am a fidget while I sleep. So I am not responsible for any injuries that may occur to you during the night from possible kicks or punches.’ She said as she headed into the bedroom and got into bed.

Loki threw his head back with laughter as he followed her though. ‘Well, there is only one solution for that.’ He growled and leapt into bed with her under the quilt, she started giggling when he grabbed her and pulled her back flush against his front and he playfully, and lightly, bit her shoulder.

‘I will just keep you locked in my arms for the night… For my own safety, of course.’ He hummed and nuzzled his nose into her hair.

‘Of course, for safety.’ She giggled. Though she had a feeling that he was big on affection, it seemed, once he got to know and trust someone. And she certainly didn’t mind that, at all.

She went to sleep with the biggest smile on her face as she was encased in his protective and warm embrace. Though it took a little while for her racing heart to calm down enough for her to sleep.

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #what about trust #chapter 9 #fanficshiddles

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exquisitley-obsessed · 4 years

Text

The Dinosaur and the Vampire Part Three (Carlisle Cullen x Reader)

Author: exquisitely-obsessed

Request: hi can you do a one shot for Twilight where the reader is best friends with Bella and is there at the car crash in the first movie, they go to hospital and that’s where the reader meets Carlisle, really fluffy, thanks

Word Count: 5000+

Pairings: Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Warnings: nothing

A/N: This is and this isn’t the final part of the story. I’ve already got a draft for a part four but it’s also going to be able to work as a one shot in itself. Here’s a hint - it’s got something to do with the plot of New Moon. Kinda obvious but I LOVE angst. My requests are open <3 But if you’re interested you should check out my masterlist here!!

previous part

Y/n felt crazy. It was the middle of the afternoon also the middle of a storm and she was standing on Bella’s doorstep, half-crying.

Her day trip to the Cullen’s house was only a few days ago and yet so much had changed since then. Bella was basically no where to be seen, now constantly spending time with Edward to the point where she even ditched school with him after Biology leaving y/n to drive herself home.

Moreover, the Carlisle incident had also wedged a gap between her and Bella. After the silent drive home back, y/n waited until Bella was busy with Charlie before heading to the nearest store and treating herself to an assortment of bathing items. New shampoo and conditioner, body wash, body scrub, shaving cream, razors, body lotion, leave in conditioner, facial oils; the list went on. Y/n knew she could never speak to Bella about it, too mortified over what Carlisle had said never mind the fact she was crushing on the 20-something year old doctor and (adoptive) father of Bella’s boyfriend.

All this combined with Jess talking her ear off about the dance, her parents pressuring her about college and her grades slipping; it had all become a bit too much. Her last straw was an argument with her mum about the dishes which left her storming out of the house, hopping the fence and knocking on Bella’s door. She couldn’t take it anymore, she needed her friend.

“Hey Charlie, is Bella in?” Y/n watched as Charlie took in her groggy appearance, wrapped in one of her dad’s old jumpers which had holes spotted along the sleeves.

“I’m sorry she’s not,” Charlie answered, his eyes tentative. Y/n tried not to act surprised, after all what did she expect. “She’s at the Cullen’s house, playing baseball or something.” Y/n could feel the angry tears prickling behind her eyes, she had never felt so alone and abandoned and she hated herself for it. She wanted with every inch of her heart to brush it off and just be happy for Bella’s newfound romance, but this seemed to come at the price of her own happiness. “Hey y/n are you okay-”

“Yeah.” Y/n answered a little too quickly, wrapping her arms around herself and nodding furiously. “It can wait. I think I’m going to go for a drive or something.” A somewhat forced smile slipped onto her cheeks as she tried to shake off her disappointment. “Could you tell Bella that I was asking after her?”

“Course.” Charlie said calmly, his gaze still soft and worried.

“Thanks, uh, bye Charlie. Have a nice evening.” Y/n splurted turning away from the door and hopping the fence. Without looking back y/n unlocked her car and quickly got inside, aware of Charlie’s lingering fatherly gaze. After sitting still for a moment, not quite sure what to do with herself she decided to drive down to La Push. The rocks, the ferocious waves, the abandoned feeling of the place. It was exactly what she needed. Trying not to let the tears brim over she turned on the radio and spluttered the engine to life.

Turning out of her driveway she felt better already. Some distance would be nice, plus she never knew who she might bump into along the way, it would be nice to see Jacob again. However, as she was driving down her street she noticed Bella’s red truck speeding toward her. From what she could see Edward was driving, a terrifying expression cut into his face as he glared at the road; Bella peering at him with an estranged fear, tears in her eyes. Y/n only saw them for a second before they passed, headed for home.

Had they been fighting? Y/n’s heart lurched for Bella. Despite Bella’s lack of communication recently, y/n still understood how much Edward meant to her, and of course she would still be there for her.

For a moment she wondered if she should turn back, wait till Edward left and then call on the house again, but her mind was already carrying her to the beach. She needed this time to herself; a break from everyone and everything.

***

Y/n hadn’t been driving long when she was pulled from her mind once more. She was driving down one of the lesser known roads, green and blue blurring around her when she caught sight of someone standing on the side of the road.

The first thing y/n noticed was her hair, ferocious red. It exploded around the woman’s head in fiery ringlets. Her clothes were raggedy and didn’t fit her very well: a tartan button up and loose fitting beige trousers. Over her shoulder hung a backpack with a bottle of water and thick rope looped off the side. She was waving her hands desperately in the air, clearly trying to catch y/n’s attention. Without thinking y/n slowed the car and rolled down her window.

“Are you okay, what’s wrong?”

“Oh thank God!” The woman cried in a strange accent. “I was hitchhiking when I thought I saw a bear. Ran like I never had before but now I’m lost. If you could just drive me to the nearest main road I’ll be able to find my way back to my car.”

Y/n couldn’t help but drink in the appearance of the woman now that she was closer. Her hair appeared even more explosive, a stark contrast with her ivory skin which appeared dewy and soft. Perfect freckles were sprinkled across her nose underneath a pair of dark eyes. She was unimaginably beautiful.

“Sure!” Y/n found herself saying without really taking it into consideration. She was pretty sure the woman looked like that girl Martha in her history class, maybe this was her older sister. “Hop in!”

It would be a minor detour, wouldn’t take long at all. The woman moved fluidly to the side of the car, opening the door with a flash before seating herself comfortably next to her. Y/n paused a moment, waiting for the woman to pull on her seat belt, when realising she wouldn’t she started the engine and drove on.

“The plan will work.” Edward comforted Bella, the two now back at the Cullens house following their performance for Charlie. The Cullens themselves rushed around them, preparing.

“Rosalie and Esme are heading down to your house as we speak. They won’t take their eyes off of Charlie. He’s perfectly safe.” Carlisle added, Bella shot him an appreciative smile. A pause of silence.

“Carlisle what about y/n?” Edward pondered aloud.

“Already thought about it.” Carlisle answered without looking up, Bella glanced between the two. First Edward’s invitation (for which he brushed off all her questions and instead supplied the phoney answer of wanting to know Bella’s friends better) and now this?

“What about y/n?” Bella asked. Edward took a deep breath, not meeting her gaze and ignoring her question.

“James and Victoria have no reason to suspect y/n is of any importance to Bella, Charlie or any of us. They’ve never seen y/n with us, they haven’t heard us talk about her. Y/n is no more than a neighbour. Besides, with Rosalie and Esme having eyes on Charlie they automatically have eyes on y/n.”

“Y/n’s not at home though,” Bella interjected worriedly, “We saw her pass us, she was leaving in her car.”

“What.” Carlisle stated rather than asked, his voice dropping as well as his easy smile. In fact, his entire body language changed, he stood taller, stretching his shoulders forward slightly as he eyes flickered a darker shade of bronze.

“It’s fine.” Edward said, not phased by Carlisle’s reaction, “I read her mind, she’s headed to La Push. If Victoria or James goes onto their territory...” Bella shot him a confused look.

“You’re right.” Carlisle murmured, relaxing slightly as he chewed on the new piece of information, “As long as she’s there she should be safe. I’ll send word to Rosalie, she can keep an eye out for y/n’s return.”

“Let’s go.” Edward muttered without another word.

***

“Just a few more turns then we’ll be on Bogachiel Way, you should be able to find your way from there.” Y/n said automatically, wearing a cheery grin as she hoped not to spook the woman any further - it sounded like she had had a rough day.

“Actually I was hoping we could take a left," The woman spoke, it was the first thing she had said since being in the car. Her voice was smooth like honey but not overtly-sweet, there was definitely some bite in there.

“Are you sure?” Y/n’s brows furrowed, “I haven’t been down there before and we could risk both of us getting lost,” She chuckled to herself, “And-” She turned to face the woman and stopped abruptly, her jaw clamping shut.

“What is it?” The woman asked, not breaking eye-contact. Y/n felt as though she was being compelled, she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

“Your eyes,” She stuttered, “They’re...blood-red.” She tried to laugh, speaking as though the woman would be surprised herself.

“Oh.” Was all the woman said in a voice completely devoid of all emotion. “Well that just gives it away.”

“What-” But the woman had already snapped her fingers through y/n’s hair, and all she remembered was the sight of the driver’s wheel as her skull crashed into it.

***

Bella sighed heavily from where she was sat in the hotel room. The TV presenting her with some daytime talk show with a painfully loud and obnoxious host. Alice and Jasper were completely still next to her as they watched, no emotion, they looked as though they weren’t even thinking.

The phone exploded with a shrill ring that made Bella jump, before she could get up Alice was already answering it, nodding along to whatever the other person was ranting about. Bella waited patiently with watchful eyes, if it was Carlisle that was calling Edward couldn’t be too far away.

“Bella,” Alice turned to her with a vacant expression, holding out the phone. Bella went to reach it when all of sudden it was falling out of Alice’s grasp with a resounding ‘k-dunk’. Bella went to protest when she realised Alice couldn’t see her, she was seeing something else, something from the future - Jasper was behind her in a second.

“What is it?” He asked soothingly, his hands resting on her shoulders.

“It’s...Victoria.” Alice spluttered distantly, her golden irises flitting back and forth.

“Charlie is he-” Bella began.

“She’s driving. She’s happy.” Alice continued.

“Alice, is Charlie-” Bella tried again.

“Oh.” Alice once more continued as if she hadn’t heard. Then it was over and she turned to Jasper with wide, fearful eyes. “It’s y/n. She has y/n tied up in the back of the car.”

“What?” Bella distantly muttered behind her, meanwhile Edward’s frightful voice could be heard yelling through the phone from the floor. Jasper swept down and twirled the phone into his fingers.

“Edward.” He said clearly, “We have a problem.”

“Is y/n okay?” Bella asked shakily, her fingers half covering her mouth. Alice simply collapsed back down on the couch, her brows furrowed, eyes frightful and she chewed on what she had just seen.

***

“What’s going on Edward?” Carlisle asked as he shifted the car up a gear, racing down the motorway. Edward’s eyes were wide, fluttering left and right as he took in new information.

“What’s wrong?” Emmett asked from the backseat, picking up on the awful tension.

“We have a serious problem.” Edward began.

“How serious?” Carlisle asked, not removing his eyes from the road and yet his voice was still calm, supportive.

“Alice just had another vision but it was of Victoria, apparently she’s driving somewhere with y/n tied up on the backseat.”

What Edward had said didn’t seem to settle with his audience for a while. Carlisle’s face enigmatic, Emmett just simply confused.

“Who’s y/n?” Emmett pondered aloud. Y/n’s presence and affect on the family had pretty much been kept secret between Edward and Carlisle, and Edward was only in on it because of his ability.

“A friend of Bella’s.” Edward answered so Carlisle didn’t have to. “Her best friend, in fact. She could be used for leverage.” Carlisle still hadn’t spoken although his knuckles where blushing blue from his grip on the wheel. “Carlisle?” Edward asked after a moment, still on the phone to Jasper. No response.

“We’re going to need to split up.” Carlisle’s voice was calm, the same as it always was. It was only his eyes that were different, flickering to a darker shade of bronze. “Emmett, Edward, I’m going to need you two to keep driving. Head for the airport and buy yourselves plane tickets to Seattle. Regroup with Jasper and Alice and keep Bella safe.”

“And you?” Emmett asked, now curious.

“I’m going to turn around and head back to Forks. See if I can track down Victoria and stop this from getting anymore messy than it has to.”

“How are you going to...ah.” Edward’s question was answered when Carlisle swung a hard right and sped into the car dealership. Before they knew it Carlisle was up and out of the car throwing the keys to Edward.

“Don’t scratch the Porsche,” Was all he said. “It was a gift.”

“Are you sure?” Emmett called out leaning out of the back window, “You don’t need help?” Carlisle smiled at his son.

“It’s more than I don’t want you to see what I’m about to do.” And with that he turned and disappeared into the building. Edward in a flash was sitting in the driver’s seat, starting up the engine - desperate to see Bella again.

“So,” Emmett smiled broadly as he leaned back and stretched out his arms across the seats, “This girl...y/n...she’s important right.” Edward sighed deeply, before glancing over his shoulder with a soft grin.

“You have no idea.”

***

Y/n stirred, her head feeling as though it was going to pound out of her skill. Distantly she was aware of something holding her wrists and ankles close together and the hum of the engine beneath her.

At first her vision was blurry, and it didn’t help that the trees were rushing past her window and an incomprehensible rate. It was also dark outside, too dark, how long had she been out?

“Wakey, wakey.” A dark voice fluttered down at her. Y/n groaned in response, her hands, bound, automatically rushed to her forehead and when she pulled them back they were slick with blood. This couldn’t be happening.

“What’s going on?” Y/n was surprised how calm her voice sounded as her eyes focused on the sight of the red-head, her wild appearance now feeling threatening. This woman must be insane.

“You have no idea what you owe me.” She spoke in riddles. “Lying there bleeding across these seats. I almost messed up the whole plan.” Yes, she was definitely insane.

“I’m sorry.” The words tumbled out of her mouth. “Have we met before?”

“No.” The woman rolled her eyes, “I promise you would remember if we had.”

“Where are we going?” Y/n didn’t feel like playing into her games, she was petrified as it was.

“Seattle. A girls trip.” She grinned menacingly at her over her shoulder. “James just called, apparently some of your friends just booked a flight there. We can’t risk flying though so I’m afraid we’re driving.”

“To Seattle?”

“We’ll be there before you know it. I’m a quick driver.” She was, the trees were rushing by so quickly no distinctive feature could be made of them. Whenever they came across another car on the lonesome road it whipped by within the millisecond.

“What did you mean by my friends?”

“The Cullens, silly. I saw you hanging around Bella’s house, asking after her even. That’s why your here.” Y/n couldn’t make sense of it, the jumbled words and the fizzing in her head meant everything she tried to process felt scrambled.

“I think you’ve got the wrong girl.” Y/n muttered, her eyes scrunching up as she tried to endure her throbbing skull..

“I’m not sure about that.” Victoria glanced in her rear view mirror, y/n noticed and, twisting in her seat, she watched as a white blur stayed hot on their trails, following the cars movements perfectly. She tried to focus on the identity of the driver but another wave of nausea rolled through her guts.

When this had passed she glanced around panicking. Looking down she noticed the rope, about an inch thick and bound several times around her wrists and ankles in expert fashion. It didn’t take long for y/n to conclude there was no way she could get out of them herself. Glancing around, her head feeling a littler clearer she looked for any way to slow the car down or at least call for help.

Trying to look inconspicuous, y/n leaned forward and looked through the window resting her fingers near the trigger to pull it down. With a quick glance at the woman she slammed down the trigger; but the window rolled down all to slowly and all to loudly. The woman’s head snapped around.

“Bitch.” Was all she spat before rolling the window back up with the panel by her arm. “What were you going to do, make a jump for it? We’re going 150 on the motorway.” The number made y/n feel queasy but she had already committed now, she wasn’t just going to sit here and we carted off to her ‘girls trip’ in Seattle.

Quickly, y/n flipped the window down again and using the bony knot of the rope between her arms she began to attack the top of the glass the same moment the red-head began moving it back up. She wasn’t quite sure where the strength had come from but after a small fit of thwacking her arms against the window she became aware of the tiniest crack at the top. This fuelled her flame.

She started again, aiming directly at the crack beating her bound arms against it relentlessly. In the moment the pain ignited her fury although she was sure she would regret it later. All of a sudden the window gave, one piece fell and then suddenly the whole thing shattered. Before the woman could stop her she leaned out the window, her hair exploding in the wind as she was caught in the white cars headlights.

“Help!” She shrieked, the volume of her voice astounding even her. “Help! Get me out of here! Call the police!” Re-filling her lungs for another spout of shouts the woman leaned over the front seats grabbing a handful of y/n’s hair and slamming her back into the car.

“Insolent bitch!” The woman cried, taking her hands off the steering wheel to yank y/n over the divide between the front two seats. “If you make this anymore difficult for me I’ll find away to get Bella without your help!” This caught y/n’s attentions and she went limp across the seats, her head hanging back so she saw out the front of the car, the world upside down.

“Bella?” Y/n choked.

“If you keep struggling you’ll never see her again.” The woman twisted so that one hand gripped the steering wheel, the other holding y/n’s hair so she was firmly bent back against the armrest, straining her neck; y/n couldn’t help but notice the impossible strength at which she was being pinned down.

The short scrape had pulled and split y/n’s previous head wound: a deep cut curling above her left eyebrow. And when she had broken through the glass and leaned out the raw glass had cut her waist and cheeks. This meant that as y/n’s head was pulled back blood dribbled up her face, trickling into her eyes and leaving a mixture of blood, tears and sweat.

She wasn’t held in the position for long. At some point the woman gasped and let go, now holding two hands on the wheel. Y/n couldn’t quite see what was happening around her but she saw a flash of white and felt the cars wheels roll unstably. She snapped back into the backseat, now no longer interested in the window but rather trying desperately with her bound hands to buckle her seat belt.

As she focused on her bound hands she could faintly hear distant, familiar voices and the red-headed woman shouting back something incomprehensibly fast. Her instincts proved correct, within the minute the car leapt out of control underneath her, swerving off the road and rolling down the small hill. Clutching onto the overhead hanger for dear-life y/n felt her entire world upside down, the sickening scent of burning flesh before darkness finally coddled her once more.

***

Y/n stirred from unconsciousness for the second time in 24 hours and the first thing she noticed was the release on her wrists and ankles. Before she tried to open her eyes she fluttered her fingers over her wrists where there lay course indentations. The skin was tender to touch and she was sure the skin would be black and blue.

Trying to open her eyes she noticed the warm light above her, somehow this made her feel safe. Her head still throbbing furiously she tried to open them further provoking tears to prick behind her eyes and dribble down the sides of her face. A wave of nausea overtook her then and abruptly her body snapped up underneath her, once she was vertical it seemed to die down.

“Woah, woah, woah.” She heard a familiar voice call, she knew that voice. It appeared he had leapt from the shadows, guiding y/n back down but she protested, groaning audibly. “Slow down.” He said calmly, his fingers firm on her sides. A harsh intake of air whipped from her lips and his arms snapped back.

“Your fine it’s just...my sides.” Y/n muttered, wincing from the lingering stinging from her sides, the cuts from the glass of course.

“You’ve had a rough couple of hours.” Carlisle spoke into the silence. Y/n groaned pushing up again, this time Carlisle didn’t move to stop her. “You really shouldn’t sit up, you’ve got some serious head trauma.”

“Just for a sec.” Y/n’s voice was breathy as she pleaded with him, “I just feel too nauseous if I lie down.” He didn’t say anything, but he let her sit. Y/n had just assumed she was in the hospital what with the presence of Carlisle, but when she looked around she wasn’t startled to realise she was propped up on his kitchen counter top. A series of cashmere and fluffy looking blankets covering the surface to make it soft, she tried to ignore that a few were covered in blood.

“I assume you have a lot of questions.”

“You think?” Y/n didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know where to begin. It was a debate on whether to tell Carlisle her crazy story, to describe to him the red-headed woman with blood-red eyes, how she had talked about the Cullens and Bella. On the other hand, instead of explaining she wanted to ask questions; how had she ended up at the Cullens house, where was her car, what happened to the woman. She settled on her question. “Is Bella okay?”

Carlisle stared at her with a pondering expression, as if he were chewing on the information she had released by that question alone.

“Bella is fine.” He said slowly, his voice soft. He had stepped away from y/n and stood at the opposite counter top, running a white cloth (by the smell it was doused in alcohol) over an assortment of medical instruments. Y/n tried not to look at them. He turned to her suddenly, as if he were waiting for another question.

“Do you know what happened to me?” Y/n asked, her fingers rushing to her forehead. He was there in a second, his hand empty, holding her fingers back with his own gentle touch. He had moved with supernatural speed but y/n couldn’t process that right now, that wasn’t the craziest thing to happen tonight.

“Yes and no. Don’t touch your wound I’m not done.” He answered clearly, going back to his work. Y/n just stared at him, waiting for him to go on. He sighed. “I got a call saying that you were in danger. That you had been taken hostage by Victoria.” Y/n automatically linked the name with the face. “I came to help you. I was in the white ford bronco behind you.” Like deja-vu the images shot through her mind, leaning out the window calling for a help, unable to make out the figure in the white car.

“How come...” He was back assessing her wounds, dabbing it here and there, engrossed in his work. Her eyes were large, slightly dazed and glossy as she watched him through his arms, her eyes fixed on his own.

“How come...” His warm voice was only a whisper, guiding her along her words.

“You. How come it was you that came for me? You...” She trailed off again, aware even through her murky mind of her heartbeat picking up at his closeness.

“Because, and I know this is confusing,” He began, taking a break and looking directly into her eyes, capturing her attention, “I will always be there when you need me. Perhaps not necessarily when you want me...but always when you need me.” Y/n surprised herself by completely understanding what he was trying to convey. It all felt like a dream anyhow.

“When your car went off the side of the road.” He began, unable to return to his tools as he was caught in a memory, “I-” He trailed off, a flash of anger dancing in his eye. “I pried open your door and you were unconscious. And the blood-” He stifled something in his throat.

“You’re a doctor and you don’t like blood.” Y/n murmured, a smile slipping on her lips. Carlisle smirked.

“I’m not afraid of all blood, only yours.” He went back to work.

“You’re afraid of me?” She asked, her voice quiet and small. He paused, catching her off guard as he moved forward, his nose an inch from hers.

“I haven’t felt fear like I did tonight for three hundred years.” Y/n still felt like she was dreaming.

“It hurts.” She mumbled after a few moments of tense silence.

“I know, love.” He hummed, saddened at her pain. “Where?” Y/n went to brush her forehead but stopped herself, she then moved to her stomach, tentatively, afraid of showing Carlisle her exposed flesh she lifted her shirt slightly. Peering down herself she noticed a series of cuts dancing around her waist, in particular her front from where she had leaned on cut glass. If she were not mistaken, Carlisle’s breath hitched in his throat. She let her shirt drop.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Carlisle winced as if he disagreed.

“You shouldn’t even be this hurt in the first place.” He murmured, more to himself than anyone. “I thought that by leaving you alone I was protecting you. In reality, I was only pushing you away because I was afraid.”

“There’s that word again. Why do I scare you?”

“It’s not you per-say, more what you’ve made me realise about myself.”

“Carlisle...my heads spinning.” He met her eye before turning away grabbing something off the counter top.

“Here,” He murmured, a smirk lighting up his face. Looking down y/n caught sight of a roll of band-aid held between two of his slender fingers; the familiar dinosaur pattern somewhat sun-bleached.

“God, I can’t seem to escape those.” Y/n murmured softly smiling despite everything.

“Well I might’ve taken a box home since the accident.” Y/n eyed him, he had taken these from the hospital? “I guess I couldn’t help myself.” He said as if reading her mind, his brows now furrowed as he turned back to his work. He unwrapped a decent amount of plaster before tearing it with his fingers, finally he positioned it above her right eye and, soft as feather, pressed it against her head. As he had done this he had inched closer and closer, y/n’s legs automatically opening so that he may position himself comfortably.

“I have to say I think you’re going to get your wish.” Carlisle muttered softly.

“What?” Y/n whispered back, astonished at how close he was standing, his hip bones touching the inner of her knees.

“I think this cut may just scar. You can finally walk around town with something interesting to talk about.” Y/n rolled her eyes but grinned broadly, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly.

“By the way, what am I going to say, about this?” Her fingers reached up to her face resting against her dinosaur spotted plaster. Carlisle thought for a moment.

“You,” He began, reaching his own fingers up to join hers, “Were tired...and upset,” His voice was so soft, and yet the silence blanketed around them meant it filled the room. “And you went for a drive,” Chills sparked down her spine as he slowly lowered himself to her level, careful not to make any sudden movements. “And you...lost sight of things...for a moment.” She could feel cool breath brushing against her cheeks. “It was dark and you crashed...I saw it happen by chance, and helped.”

“Okay.” Y/n murmured. “But...that’s not the truth.”

“No,” He breathed into the tension, “Unfortunately the world cannot know the truth.”

“Can I?”

“I think it is what you’re owed.” Y/n pondered this.

“The woman?”

“She had disappeared before I got to you. Afraid probably.”

“Of you?” Y/n asked somewhat incredulously, but she could see it, the power in his voice, his control over a room.

“I have a...reputation.” Y/n just grinned, overwhelmed.

All of a sudden his cool fingers were brushing her hair off her face before resting either side of her head, his thumb back to brushing under her right eye. Y/n froze at the contact and yet he clearly found the movement completely natural as he tilted her chin to meet his gaze.

“There is so much about this world you have yet to discover. Right now, you are on the cusp of a discovery that may change your life forever and most certainly it will mine. We’ve been keeping something from you, me, Bella, Edward. But not out of contempt, or anger, or hate...but because it’s difficult to know how to best protect those whom you love. And if today is any indication, I’ve been doing it all wrong.”

“Love?” Y/n whispered. Carlisle paused heavily.

“It’s...not my fault, I promise.” Carlisle murmured, his nose brushing with hers ever so slightly, “There is a degree of destiny involved.” Y/n grinned as she pulled back slightly, but Carlisle’s hands never left her face.

“You speak in riddles.” This caused Carlisle to laugh, deep and heartily.

“A product of my age unfortunately. But, I promise. Things aren’t as complicated as they seem...or maybe they are. Either way, you no longer will be left in the dark.”

“Is this the part where you spill all of your dirty secrets?”

“How did you know?” He mocked with a grin. “Now listen carefully.” He pulled back leaving only cold air where he once was, but he remained in contact, holding onto y/n’s hand, brushing circles over the feathery veins as he seated himself next to her.

“There’s a lot you need to learn.”

next part

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@nijiru

@mauvette268

#twilight #new moon #eclipse #breaking dawn #carlisle cullen #carlisle #carlisle cullen imagine #carlisle cullen x you #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle cullen x y/n #edward cullen #edward and bella #Emmett Cullen

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lunapwrites · 2 years

Note

oooh so many i’d like to ask!

Z: specifically for writing (rather than reading) & wolfstar! esp as you write such delicious lost years & post azkaban angst, but i feel like mcd is a different beast entirely

P: curious how much of LTL you planned out from the very start and how much you’re figuring out as you’re going

V: especially curious if any modern AUs appeal!

hi hi! sorry i'm just now getting to this. <3

Z: I have ZERO qualms with MCD, and I can, do, and would absolutely write it. Remus is probably my least favorite character to kill off on a personal level, but even he isn't immune. I also recall at one point I had a little doodle (ie: one-shot that only existed in my head) where Harry had actually died for real in the final battle and Remus (now alone in the world) teamed up with Ron and Hermione to finish the fight, but in a very "well, scruples are dead now" sort of way. MCD is an effective catalyst for the feral bastard energy I crave. Though it is not the only one. ;)

V: Ooooh this is so tough to answer bc I worry sometimes that I don't have the chops to write as well as some of the authors I admire?? But one of the fics that I can think of here would be wild geese by howlatthemoony. I just. Have so many feelings about this. (And I do like modern AUs but I find that I don't tend to care as much about what happens before or after the fic itself? Usually there's enough filled in within the body of the work to contextualize the story so it doesn't much matter.)

P: Oh gosh, this is kinda tough to answer, and I'm going to drop the rest of this under a break because I'm going to talk some LTL specifics that may be spoilers for those who aren't fully caught up. (Short version: I'm a gardener trying to get their shit together, but I did — and do — have some things planned.)

I'm probably best described as a gardener who designed how their garden was supposed to look ahead of time and is adjusting for small details as we go along. Which is to say that I had an overarching vision for this series, and there's definitely a solid endpoint that I have in mind. I just didn't do any kind of specific outline until after I had started writing. I went into this with the major plot points all thought out, and I adjust the timing and specifics of each as I go. I also, occasionally, have epiphanies about how to avoid plot holes/corners I can see I'm writing myself into.

For reference, everything that happened since "the date night" was not originally supposed to be included. That little mental breakdown scene at the end of chapter 16? It was going to be an entire chapter unto itself and was supposed to originally take place around Christmas. But I needed to fill in more, and pushing it up/reducing its screen time turned out to be a good fit. Not to mention it worked better overall with some other (outlined-but-unwritten) changes I had to make.

But overall, the process has been like taking a road trip with no schedule, just a list of spots you want to go see. And if you find something cool on the way? Hell yeah, stop and take a look... within reason, because you DO only have so long, and you do want to actually see some of these other places. But like. A slight detour here and there can't hurt, you know?

Anyway, that was a very long and convoluted answer haha. But thank you for the ask!!

#ask game #responses

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blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms · 3 years

Text

Magnet- Steve Rogers

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Characters: Steve Rogers

Warnings: N/A

Request: Wattpad- "Hey, have you seen the..? Oh."

Word Count: 413

Author: Charlotte

The only thing that was important for your current plan was to keep quiet and not wake the target. You were crouched down over the sofa where he slept, trying your best to not breath too loud or drop the items that were resting in your arm. One by one you moved the items down to the sleeping figure, glad that the pressure of the item couldn’t wake him.

You were nearly done when the living room swung up.

“Hey, have you seen the…? Oh.”

You jumped back from your work, terrified that your plot had been ruined but he barely stirred, just letting out a loud snore and rolling over onto his side instead. Glad that it hadn’t been fully ruined, you rushed over to your boyfriend in the doorway, pushing him out of the room with your hand firmly pressed over his mouth.

“Be quiet Steve,” you hissed in a hushed tone, quietly shutting the door behind you.

He pried your fingers from his mouth to ask you a question. “What were you doing to Bucky?”

“Pranking him,” you shrugged. “He beat me at monopoly, and I don’t lose at monopoly, so he had to pay. Why did you come in shouting?”

“I wasn’t shouting. I was just looking for where all the fridge magnets went but you have kind of answered my question,” He said gesturing to the magnets that you were still holding onto.

“Why would I not take advantage of the fact that he has a metal arm when deciding to prank him?”

You handed him one of the magnets that you had left. You tried your best to get all of the magnets from your fridge onto Bucky’s arm but seen as you had to take it slow and Steve interrupted you, you had been left with a couple that you would just return to their place, rather than risking getting caught.

“What did you even want a magnet for anyway?” You asked. “They are there solely for decoration at this point.”

“I put the shopping list on the fridge,” he stated. “It’s either that or putting it on top of the fridge but then you’d have no hope getting it down.”

You playfully gave his arm a shove, knowing it was somewhat true seen as you couldn’t live up to the heights of a super soldier.

“Well next time don’t announce yourself so loudly, if you had woken him up, I’d have had my arse kicked.”

#Magnet #Request #Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers One Shot #Steve Rogers Imagine #Captain America #Captain America One Shot #Captain America Imagine #Avengers #Avengers Imagine #Avengers One Shot #Marvel #Marvel Imagine #Marvel One Shot #Charlotte

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the-haven-of-fiction · 3 years

Text

Not A Christmas Movie

Genre/Rating: Fluff and Sweetness of the holiday variety, T

Summary: Tom and Astrid find themselves in a unique situation on Christmas Eve.

Author’s Notes: My first sappy romantic Christmas one shot, y’all! Move over, Hallmark! I tried to cover some of the best cheesy themes, I hope you enjoy it. Thank you to Pillow Talk and Lolo for proofing.

The sound of the wind and snow raced through the trees and whipped against the walls of the cabin, the remote mountainous location devoid of any welcoming lights from neighbors. The two travelers dropped their luggage upon crossing the threshold and rushed to push the heavy door shut behind them.

“When we get through this, neither you nor my sisters are ever allowed to make fun of my emergency preparedness again! We’d be in major trouble without it!” Astrid declared, brushing snow off her jacket and holding up the lantern from the referenced emergency preparedness with her other hand as Tom attempted to lock the door.

“I think I can safely and assuredly,” he paused to run his tongue over his perpetually chapped lips in concentration, “give you my word as an Englishman that I shall never,” a grunt of effort, “allow either myself or your sisters to utter a syllable of criticism on that score.”

She couldn’t help but giggle at his struggle with the lock.

“Remember when you had the brilliant idea to build a set for one of our backyard holiday productions? Was that when you played Scrooge? Your word as an Englishman may be good as gold, but your complete lack of skill with anything slightly mechanical is something I wouldn’t swear by.”

Even in the dim light of the lantern, the slight twitch of a smile was visible on his face, the vision of the pathetic attempt so vivid in his memory.

“No one is going to believe this,” she sighed, shivering and looking around for a light switch.

“Truth is stranger than fiction,” Tom quipped. “The best intentions of a Christmas surprise, a series of unfortunate events, a comedy of errors…”

“I blame my soon to be ex-mechanic, the weatherman, Anya and Arlyss and their crazy idea about trying to organize our families into coming out here to the wilderness to have some kind of storybook Christmas,” she huffed, fumbling along the wall, but finding the switch and flipping it to On in relief.

They both groaned when nothing happened. No electricity, no heat.

“They must have disconnected the electricity during renovations, fantastic.” He followed close behind her as they made their way around the cabin. Although the snowstorm was in full force and there weren’t any outside lights on the driveway, they could see evidence of construction as they had pulled up a few minutes earlier.

“Well, at least there’s a fireplace and I think there is actually a pile of wood next to it,” Astrid pointed as she spoke. “How about that. Must have been stocked by the same person who left the door unlocked. Remind me never to hire this company, whoever they are.”

“I could go outside and check for the…uhm…the…” Tom stuttered and gestured, making what she assumed was meant to be a square shape of some kind.

“The breaker box?” she asked dryly.

“Exactly, yes,” he answered in a tone of false bravado, clearing his throat. “I was merely waiting to see if you knew the name.”

“Santa doesn’t bring presents to little boys who lie, ya know.” She set the lantern on the mantle next to a small glass dish of matches. “Especially little boys who grew up in a centuries-old estate and have servants who take care of locking the doors and fixing the electrical problems.”

“They are not servants, they are staff, Miss Sassy, and I doubt Father Christmas knows we are here, no one does,” he replied. “Add the one forgotten mobile and the other with no service to the list of things that won’t be believed.”

“Well, anyways, Professor,” she went on in an exaggerated manner, “I may have a First Aid kit in my emergency supplies, but I am not equipped to perform any surgery on wounds you would most certainly incur from trying to play Electrician.”

He knew she was correct and they both smiled, cheeks rosy with cold.

“I suppose it was fortuitous that I ended up teaching Classics rather than embarking upon a career in carpentry.”

Astrid got a fire going and they were able to scope out their surroundings more thoroughly. A last-minute change of plans had allowed the visiting Tom and originally scheduled-to-work Astrid to join their families in the mountains for Christmas, but a quick succession of unforeseen events had brought them here, stranded close to midnight in a semi-livable cabin during a snowstorm on Christmas Eve.

The owners must have been undergoing some kind of renovations. The cabin obviously had been inhabited previously, but half the interior wasn’t complete, including the kitchen.

“The toilet flushes!” she shouted from the bathroom. “And there’s running water in the sink!”

“Unfortunately there is no sofa or chairs of any sort and only one bedroom,” he reported when she came back into the main room, “No fireplace, but it does have a bed with linens.”

“Well, my kit has extra batteries so we should be okay with the lantern in there,” she assured him, completely missing his point about the issue of a single bed.

He noticed that her shivering wasn’t decreasing as much as it should, looking her up and down in concern. She was wearing an ankle-length corduroy skirt in a shade that matched her eyes, with a long-sleeved but thin sweater.

“I think we should go through our luggage and put on a couple of more layers. That centuries-old estate was a bit drafty, so I am accustomed to an indoor chill,” he informed her with a tinge of that irritating blend of both humility and privilege.

She rolled her eyes, but went over to her suitcase and started sifting through her clothes.

“You and the twins have always been bossy. It’s a wonder how I have managed to get through life as an adult without the three of you hovering over me like you did when I was a kid.”

He pulled on another shirt and grinned at her.

“I still remember the day you were born. I was visiting Dad and Roberta that year for Christmas,” referring to the alternating schedule their families had of who went to which country for the holidays. “And your sisters and I were old enough to be excited rather than jealous of a new child coming.”

Astrid turned away from him, hoping he wouldn’t see her reaction. Why did it please her so much to hear him speak of her birth with such affection? It must be this ridiculous situation. And the holiday. And her birthday. And this sparkling blue-eyed man whose place in her life she had never been quite able to define. Not a blood relation, but as close as a family member, certainly more than a friend. But more than a friend, in that sense? College and adulthood had made the unanswered question less important, as the shared summers and holidays of their childhood had grown fewer and fewer. She didn’t let herself ponder why he hadn’t married and had a dozen children to help him keep up that manor. Any woman would be elated at the prospect of sharing her life with him; she knew he had a string of casual relationships, just as she had, but their age difference had made her sure years ago that he would be a distant memory by this time.

“Born on Christmas Day to parents named Joseph and Mary, merely the beginning of my life’s trajectory of ‘You won’t believe this!’ events, continuing to this bizarre night that has practically every plot point needed for a cheesy holiday movie except that we aren’t secretly pining for each other.” She zipped up the windbreaker over the thicker sweater before reaching for her parka, not seeing the brief flicker in his eyes.

“Did you know that Arliss wanted to call you Snowflake and Anya’s choice was Mistletoe?” Tom picked up her scarf and hat that he had placed on the hearth so they would be toasty and walked back to her.

“I hear that story every year, along with all the suggestions from everyone to aunts and uncles to the postman. Thank God my parents went with something on theme, but not silly.” She pulled on her boots after a second pair of socks and looked up at him.

His expression changed and he drew in a short breath.

“Do you like your name?”

The inquiry was brimming with something that sounded like hope to her.

“Oh, yes, I’ve always loved it. In fact, I love it as much as I’ve disliked having a birthday on Christmas because it is beautiful and unique and it made me feel beautiful and unique.”

A wave of pure delight lit up his face and something clicked in her mind. Her parents’ version of where her name came from was always that someone had mentioned it to them and they couldn’t remember who it had been.

“It was you, wasn’t it,” Astrid said. And it wasn’t a question. “It was your suggestion.”

He worried at his lower lip, a tic she’d come to know years ago that was a sure indication of him being both pleased and embarrassed.

“Yes,” the soft affirmation punctuated by the crackles and pops from the fire. “And your description is precisely how I thought of it then, thanks to having just started Latin in school, and,” a heartbeat of silence, “it is how I think of you now.”

He was standing directly in front of her and paused to survey her face for a few seconds before tapping lightly under her chin.

Without even thinking about it, it seemed, she looked up at the ceiling so he could wrap the heated scarf around her neck. The warmth felt wonderful, although the feeling caused by this stunning revelation about her name and the look on his face was already warming her up in a way she tried to herself wasn’t happening.

He tucked her hair behind her ears and pulled the hat down while she argued with herself that he was simply being affectionate in the manner of a friend.

“Well,” she said, a little too loudly, stepping back from him, “That down comforter is calling to me, I guess we should be getting to bed.”

Good heavens, the bed, she thought. As in one bed.

As in here, as in they were stuck with a snowstorm swirling around them.

In a cabin that was being renovated. With no power or heat.

On Christmas Eve.

This couldn’t be real, it was not a Christmas movie.

“I suppose we should,” still in that soft voice.

A distraction. She needed a distraction.

“Oh! I just remembered! I have my favorite Christmas movie downloaded on my phone, we can watch it before we go to sleep.”

Less than two hours later, David Niven was giving his sermon and Loretta Young was gazing up at him while Cary Grant walked away in the snow. Tom was propped up a bit against the headboard and had insisted on holding the phone so she could stay under the blankets. Somehow she had ended up almost pasted to his side as the story progressed and his arm was around her. About halfway through, they’d had a little tussle about whether or not he should leave the warm cocoon of the bed and get them another candy cane from her Snack Pack. He argued that they had already brushed their teeth, but a sincere plea from her with an affectionate “Be naughty with me, Professor!” addition was something he simply couldn’t resist.

She sighed and closed her eyes, contented and drowsy and finally no longer cold, too tired and confused to attempt to figure out what was happening, how years of ignoring what was just below the surface had nearly bubbled over. It was impossible. He wasn’t interested. He was just being Tom. Typical Tom. Caring, attentive, making you feel like you were the only person in the room. She wouldn’t think about this anymore right now. Maybe tomorrow. Or not.

Tom closed the app on her phone and noticed the time.

“Hey there, it’s 12:01.”

“Mmhhmm,” she murmured, feeling herself about to drift off. He was so familiar, so comforting, so exactly like Christmas itself should be. She wanted to enjoy this moment before she went back to being the little kid and he the older…the older what?

“Happy Birthday,” he said and dipped his head to kiss her forehead, his breath sweet from the earlier candy cane.

She turned upwards toward him without opening her eyes to give him a peck on the cheek, almost without knowing what she was doing in her sleepy state, but she miscalculated and missed his cheek, her mouth landing on his.

He didn’t jerk back in shock. Or horror.

It’s now or never, she thought, suddenly wide awake and ready to throw caution out the window that was probably frozen shut by now.

Ten seconds later, ten minutes later, she wasn’t sure which, he pulled back breathlessly and she opened her eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asked in bewilderment, in surprise, but not in accusation.

“I’m kissing you, do you mind?” she responded, quickly pulling off her mittens and his beanie so she could sink her fingers into his curls.

“I, uhm…”

“Have no fear for your virtue, Thomas,” she teased in a low voice, tugging on a fistful of those ginger locks and causing a sharp gasp from him that thrilled her and gave her courage. “We are wrapped up like a couple of stuffed sausages in this icebox and there is a foot of clothing between us.”

His gaze narrowed and focused on her lips.

Another kiss, sweet and shy, but sure.

“I thought we weren’t secretly pining for each other,” he quoted her words back to her.

“I lied,” Astrid admitted while placing a string of kisses down his nose and nipping the tip.

The gasp changed to a growl, his grip on her upper arms tightening.

“Santa doesn’t bring presents to little girls who lie,” using her words against her, again.

She kissed him, again. Longer, lingering.

They were side by side now, the blankets becoming tangled.

“Did you lie?” she whispered, not knowing what to do next if he denied it, but also feeling like she couldn’t let another minute pass without settling the matter.

He propped himself up on an elbow and raised an eyebrow at her.

“I don’t recall either confirming or denying your assertion at the time,” wanting to tease her in return.

“But,” he rushed to continue upon seeing her immediately crestfallen, “I will make it absolutely clear now,” each word followed by a brush of his lips across her jaw and down her neck, “that you,” lifting his head to smile at her, “are the one I desire.”

Tears of happiness welled up and slipped down her cheeks.

“Happy Christmas, my starshine,” he whispered against her lips.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fan fiction #tom hiddleston fanfiction #christmas story #christmas fanfiction #the haven of fiction

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kerwritesthings · 3 years

Text

Subway Surfing

Summary: When a literal run in changes the course of a day, let alone of a life…

Word Count: little bit over 2.2k

Warning: adorable, fluff and funny

Author Notes: A bit of a birthday surprise for @fallinallincurls - Happy, happy birthday Bre! Big birthday deserves nothing more than the start of a new verse for the hockey boy I forced at you last year. Umm sorry not sorry.

Things have been a lot of not ok around here for a good clip, I’ve been really not ok. It’s been hard. Writing hasn’t come, life has just kept throwing me down and down. Trying to fight the way back up, not easy but I’m trying. This was a nice way to try to get back some of that light. I had been poking at this for a beat, the idea gnawing at me with some pieces written, notes scribbled around, but birthday sparkle helped get it over the finish line. Part two already has some bones, as does part three - but please to bear with me if you will.

You hate that it’s a Saturday and you’re trekking your way into the office. It’s finally truly fall in the city and it’s a gorgeous day. The last thing you want is to be stuck at your desk behind a computer screen. You want a hot spiked apple cider, a book, a good playlist and your plaid blanket on the grass in Central Park.

It looks like the rest of the city is awake early on this day for the same reason. The subway, which normally is slightly more bearable at this time on a weekend, is the furthest thing from that. It’s packed with people including the grimy, sweat-ladened guy in the chopped-up joggers and crocs who keeps trying to “accidentally” bump and grab you every chance he gets.

The next stop, you try to move but too many people are coming on and off as the doors only quickly open and shut. You just end up jostling as the car jolts in its start. You can’t fall forward. It would land you right into the situation you’re trying to flee. Instead, you try to lean back but you slip. Fully prepared to wipe out, a hand comes gently to steady your elbow while another holds you at your shoulder.

You hear a mish mosh of “careful there” and “are you ok” crossing together as you get back steady on your feet.

“Thanks for saving me for either face planting or landing in that sweaty creep’s grasp,” you say, sliding your bag back securely on your shoulder before turning.

You know those faces. You’ve seen them on billboards and most definitely on TV. Shit, shit and shit. Of course, the two star, absolutely adorable bestie forwards from the New York Islanders have come to your rescue. This would be your luck. At least you pulled yourself somewhat together for this Saturday jaunt to the office. You keep a straight face, smiling normally and not letting anything on.

“Couldn’t let you risk that. He’s been a bit of an ass since he got into the car. We said if he were still acting a fool at next stop, we would jump in. Plotted a rescue mission and everything,” the one explains, hand running through his hair.

“His mission was to cross his arms and give him the eye,” the other mocks, shoving at his friend’s shoulder. “I mean I guess he can look threatening, like a puppy maybe.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. These two are exactly as they’ve seemed in interviews. Mathew and Anthony really are as thick as thieves.

“That sarcastic asshole is Anthony and I’m Mat. We’ll stay close until he leaves, or you need to,” he remarks.

“You don’t have to do that. It’s the subway. That happening unfortunately is just another day that ends in y, you know?” you explain. “I also don’t want to take up more of your time or ruin any of your plans.”

“You deal with that? Often?” Anthony asks, eyes a little wide.

“Welcome to New York,” you shrug. “Not every day thankfully. But it’s often enough.”

“I hope you know, that wasn’t, and we weren’t...” Mat tries to stumble through.

“No, no, no. Totally. I didn’t get that whatsoever,” you respond. “Not that from either of you guys. Promise. It’s sweet to know there are still gentlemen out in this world.”

They both get a little bashful smile across their pretty faces.

“Glad to help,” they practically say in unison which causes you to bark out a laugh.

Time to shoot your shot, you think to yourself. Worse case, it’s a moment you get to have for a fun bar story.

“I think we need to become friends, boys,” you start. “Or at the very least, I owe you a drink for saving me.”

“Yes,” Anthony jumps in, nodding his head with a wide grin. “You should come to brunch with us.”

“If I didn’t have to get to the office I would,” you reply. “Unfortunately, it’s stuff I need done before a Monday morning meeting.”

“Office work on a Saturday? That’s no fun. Play hooky! We can promise a bottomless brunch,” he teases.

“Maybe after though?” Mat chimes in with a soft smile. “Get what you need to done, give you something to look forward to after?”

“I don’t want to ruin whatever plans you’ve had for the day,” you begin before the boys both shake their heads.

“It’s just brunch and shopping to try to get this one to up his style game,” Mat chides while Anthony rolls his eyes.

You bite your lip fighting back yet another giggle. These two, at the very least, would truly make some good friends. You dig around in your tote, finally snatching your card holder.

“Not sure how long I’ll be stuck. I’m hoping only a couple hours. But. If you’re serious. Text or call me,” you say, handing one off to each of them.

They both nod, each pocketing your card as the subway comes to a halt.

“Oh shit, this stop is mine. Thanks again for the soft hands and clutch assist guys,” you wink, dashing away quickly before the doors close.

“What is my life,” you mutter, the boys waiving as the train pulls away. “I need to get to the office.”

“Ok, I think that’s the first time we’ve ever had someone realize who we are in public, without a whole big scene or making a blatant ass grab type pass. We’re keeping her. Plus, you like her,” Anthony teases, shoving at Mat’s shoulder as they hit the sidewalk coming up from the subway.

“I could say the same thing to you Tito,” he snarks back, shoving in return. “You were batting the eyes. I’m not blind.”

“She seems cool and yeah she’s pretty, but I’m not jaw drop like you were when you saw her,” he chirps back. “I was trying to get a rise out of you dude. And it worked, you actually stepped up the game. And now you have her info. Don’t make me text her too. Cause I will.”

You’re just about to settle into your email with a cup of what your office likes to consider coffee when your phone starts buzzing about in quick succession.

“Looks like this is a thing,” you mumble to yourself, lips quirking up into a half smile as you formulate a reply.

“You knew?” Anthony grins over his beer. “From the start?”

You nod, sipping at your cider. You pushed through your work to be able to meet the two downtown at this tiny spot in NoLiTa that was tucked away from the crazy of the neighborhoods it was snug between. It wasn’t as sleek as you thought they’d choose; it was something much more comfortable and lower key.

“Really?” Mat questions.

“Yep. One of you not with the other? I would have had to do double take. I would have noticed, but probably would have questioned. However, the two peas in a pod together? That was a no brainer,” you explain, fighting back a bit of a giggle.

“You didn’t say anything,” Mat replies.

“How many times does that happen and it turn into a thing or a bit of a scene?” you circle the bottom of the cider bottle around on the tabletop. “There was also no point to, either. You were just trying to enjoy the day and you were being super kind keeping me from wiping out. I get it’s New York, so it’s a less likely thing but it still happens. So, if I could keep it from another one of those moments...”

“Told you Barzy, we’re keeping her,” Anthony taps his beer against yours. “Welcome to the crazy, Evangeline.”

You can’t help but tinge a little pink.

“Well then. If that’s the case, my friends call me Evie,” you smile.

“Evie,” Mat lets the name roll around his tongue.

A couple rounds later, of both beers and darts, you realize how tight the two are and more so, how easily you could become entangled in friendship with them. And you do. Texts and memes and random photos fly back and forth, you all hang when all your schedules align. You’re also fostering relationships with each of them separately too; sharing recipes of things you want to try to bake and longing about the places you miss in Quebec with Anthony while Mat was trying to teach you more about basketball (with little luck) and in turn you trying to expand what he calls music and what actually is music. You also share some of your favorite places in the city that the two really didn’t know about. It was easy with them, together and individually but you were getting a bit more of a tug, a bit of a warmer burn with Mat.

A Saturday morning a few weeks after the afternoon drinking funtivities, you wake up to a few texts, photos really, from the group chat with the boys. First is a pair of tickets and passes to their game that night. Second is two jerseys: a blue Barzal and a white Beauvillier. The third, a text from Mat.

Choose carefully…

We’re also not taking no for an answer. You’re coming. Game and drinks after.

“Oh shit,” you exhale, quickly jumping to your closet.

“Beth?” you call out from your room, tossing through your clothes looking for two specific items. “Please tell me you don’t have plans tonight.”

“Hot date with a bottle of pinot noir and trash tv, why?” she pokes her head into your room.

“Good. You do now. You’re coming with me to the Islanders game tonight,” you mutter, flipping through more hangars.

“Wait excuse me?” she flops down, cross-legged on the end of your bed.

“So, I may have left a tiny detail out from when I told you about the two cute guys who saved me on the subway,” you explain.

“Ok and?” Beth prompts you to continue.

“They’re Islanders…” you trail off.

“What?” she screams tossing one of your throw pillows at you.

“I’m trying to not make a big deal, cause you know. But, at the same time, well you know,” you reply, finally finding the long sleeve you wanted to wear as well as one of your hockey jerseys.

“You need to give me more than this, Evie,” Beth pries.

You lean back against your closet door.

“It was Anthony Beauvillier and Mat Barzal,” you say.

Beth screams and throws another pillow at you.

“You just casually didn’t tell me that you met the damn Calder winner and his like bromance bestie,” she laments. “Evie, what the fuck?”

“This is exactly why,” you sigh. “Like it started out as ok I could have a moment, a cool story to tell. But honestly, they’re two really great guys.”

“You’re not telling me something, I can see it in that wistful look,” she pokes. “Oh god you’re sweet on one of them, aren’t you?”

You shake your head at Beth, not acknowledging the question. Shoving her over a little, you fold the jersey on the bed next to her, so the logo was perfectly visible, but no giveaway of the name on the back or numbers on the sleeves.

Fine if you two summon I guess I must go. I’m bringing Beth, my roommate, so you need to behave. She’s already a pretty big hockey fan so I apologize now in advance for any of her crazy. She’s great but gets excited. Also, easy answer: where’s the Ebs jersey? ;) Or I can always wear this one.

You snap a quick shot of your Dallas Stars jersey.

Mat of course chimes in first.

That’s cold Evie, really cold. And that thing? That’s even worse. Who is on there? Do I wanna know?

Then Anthony.

Non. Non. Non. Why do you even have that jersey!?

“You’ve got that look,” Beth pokes at your thigh. “I’ll leave you be for now. Need to be at the arena what 6? We should leave here at 4:30. Worse case we get there early, we can snag a drink nearby. I don’t trust the train or the subway on a Saturday to be on time. Thanks for bringing me, Roomie. I’m excited and I get to meet these boys of yours.”

I have favorites across the league, you both know I liked the sport well before you two came along. I have the appropriate jerseys for my boys. Well, almost. You guys making me choose is mean af. Rock paper scissors it between you both, whoever wins that’s what I’ll wear.

“Just leave her yours, you know you want to no matter who would win at that little challenge of Evie’s,” Anthony smiles as the text comes through, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “And I know you’d pull shit to do it no matter what. She’s really your girl anyway.”

“What…” Mat starts before Anthony jumps in.

“You know it’s never been like that with her for me, dude. She’s awesome and I’m so glad to have her as a friend,” he replies. “You though? Since moment one, she’s been something else for you. You need to make a move. You’ve got game, I’ve seen it.”

“Evie’s. She’s Evie. There’s more there...” he leans back into his locker.

“More reason to then Barzy,” he volleys back. “Come on, get your shit together. We can drop everything to leave for her on the way out.”

#mathew barzal #mat barzal #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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demenior · 3 years

Text

Dem’s Big Post About The Spn Fics Part 1/2

aka The Wrap Up to celebrate To Exist Again and To Become a Man now being finished!

(This will be a long post. This is your only warning.)

Admittedly this is a bit of a weird thing to be doing, but I wanted to try it out for 3 reasons:

I love talking about my own work and

It functions really well as a self-reflective tool for me to improve on, and

I can answer some big questions people might have because there was a LOT of worldbuilding in these stories.

We’ll start off with reflective stuff, and move into the juicier world-building focused stuff later into the post. There will be major spoilers for both fics to come!

To begin with a funny anecdote, Why Did I Write These Stories?

I was beginning to write and work out the story that I wanted to write for Spn (what will now be To Destroy a Man. As I was writing the scene, I realized I had a LOT of ideas and while I was trying to avoid as much exposition as I could, it became quickly apparent that I was needing to create my own au (this scene eventually became chapter 34 of To Become a Man). A short prequel seemed like a good idea, to quickly hash out the ‘prior’ events that I needed to go through so all the readers could be on the same page. While plotting out prequel points, I realized Sam and Dean were going to have drastically different experiences during the same time period, and I was trying to figure out who’s pov would be better for which scenes, and how to keep momentum when they’re going through such radically different types of changes. Ultimately I decided to split their povs, which I also thought would be a fun project! And I naively assumed each pov would take about 2 chapters each, rounding out to maybe 15k total.

I had my ending points: Dean n Cas soul-merged and (basically) married, Cas on the lam from heaven and a complete anomaly, and Sam juiced up full of powers and a weird mix of archangel and antichrist but still 100% human and ready to fight God.

Now I needed to add weight to these changes, so I wrote 200k of build-up.

Am I proud of these fics?

OF COURSE I AM!!! These are the longest fics I’ve ever written AND finished AND in the fastest freakin turnaround ever (both were finished writing, barring edits, in like 6 months holy shit)

I didn’t write a single scene that I “didn’t” want to write. If I had trouble writing it, as in it was fighting me, I scrapped it. Most obviously was the scene in Dean’s pov where he and Sam were intended to meet some other hunters and Dean declines working with them because he’s nervous about being outed as queer. It was meant to be a good scene! I wanted to introduce some new characters! But it just wasn’t working so I said ‘thank you, next!’.

But it means this story was an absolute joy to write. Because for a while all I was doing was ‘if I wanted to write one scene into supernatural, what would I write?’ and then just DID that!! It’s why there’s a lot of ‘Salmondean do dumb shit or have really dumb heartfelt conversations’ scenes.

Would I change anything?

If I’d been less eager to start sharing, I might have planned out the story beats a little tighter so there were less ‘soft’ chapters and a draw/pull for people to come back and keep reading. I felt Dean’s story specifically lagged at points and could have used some tighter editing (there was a noticeable lull in directed movement between Dean n Cas getting together, until Sam corrupts Amy).

I also probably would have held Sam’s story until I’d finished Dean’s so I could make the two line up better! Probably could have inserted more scenes into Sam’s fic that way, and made sure things were a little more consistent. In an ideal world one concept I had was to release 1 chapter from each pov every week that would correspond to the same time frame so we’d be getting real-time SalmonDean pov narrative. Unfortunately that didn’t work!

The biggest takeaway overall is for me to focus more on what moves the plot, and to make my scenes do more than 1 thing so I can cut down on wordcount and increase my efficiency.

Of course every writer will find things they want to fix in anything they’ve ever written, so these are minor “mistakes” at best. I’m so dang proud of these fics.

Onto more interesting things!

How Did I Put These Fics Together (because it’s different than anything I’ve ever done before)

Normally when I write a story, I plan out the beats I need to hit, see where I need to insert any kind of foreshadowing/buildup, and then write from A to B to C and so on and so forth. Hence, this is why I can normally post things as I complete chapters, because it’s all a linear progression.

For these two stories, rather than linear plot/a normal story structure, I just sat and free-wrote any and every scene that came to mind and then pieced them into a kinda-linear form like putting a quilt together. You’ll note that this is why there’s not a lot of internal callback or a feeling of sense of time flowing within the fic (save for points where I went back and specifically edited it in). How long does the story take place over? Hard to say! Your author has the barest grasp on linear time even on a good day (how many times did I say ‘see you on [wrong day]’ at the end of chapters lmaaoooo)

This also meant EXTENSIVE editing on the back end once I decided in what order I wanted my ‘quilt pieces’ to be. Hard to say if this is a bonus or a negative!

But I did want to try and capture the vibe of the lives they lead, as a bit of a ‘slice of life’-style story, when the slice of life is the profound weirdness of the Winchester roaming life, and how things are status quo- until everyone almost dies oh shit!! And then they have to keep living because no therapy we die/undie like Winchesters. Do I think I captured this effectively? Hmm. Good question.

Dem where the FUCK did the inspiration for a lot of the magic and creature weirdness even come from?

Honestly? Music, primarily. And completely mishearing lyrics!

Nightwish ‘Ever Dream’: the line is ‘my song can but borrow you grace’ and because my brain is scrambled eggs on a good day, I heard ‘grace’ ‘song’ and ‘borrow’ in that order and have had, for YEARS, the mental image of Cas borrowing Dean’s soul to power himself up for battle.

From there I’ve always been enamored with the ‘wavelength of celestial intent’ descriptor that Cas drops in s6 for “what he is”.

I also really like ocean metaphors mostly because I’ve been obsessed with the ocean and things in it since I was like… 5??? So really this was me just rolling with what I know lmao. I love using (somewhat) accurate scientific metaphors for very intangible things!

I was also finishing my degree in biology/ecology while writing these fics and I think it shows

Stars ‘The Night Starts Here’ gives us the series title and the fic titles. Except for ‘To Exist Again’. TEA was almost titled ‘The Upwards Fall’ because I wanted all 3 of the Main Stories to have titles from this song, but I couldn’t make anything else work in tandem with the series name ‘The Love It Takes’ while also working for Sam’s personal story. So Sam, as always, is the rebel <3

Stars ‘Up In Our Bedroom, After The War’ is basically the vibes of the whole story. TFW has been, literally, to hell and back!!! There’s a bit of melancholy and sadness, a lingering dark, but the chance of a bright new tomorrow and a soft start.

Let’s Talk About Themes in The Story! What were you looking to accomplish?

My earliest notes for TFW are, as follows:

Dean’s journey of self-discovery (who am I when I’m not trying to be Dad?)

Dean wants to settle down! He wants a big family! He wants to be domestic!

Basically: Dean doesn’t want to have a short life of hunting. He wants to live!

Dean’s journey of realizing he’s bi, and him accepting that

Dean’s relationship to Sam is both older brother/parent

And continuing Dean balancing these roles while also letting Sam be an adult

Dean’s Big Issues/Fears about never being good enough for people to want to stay with him (these are effectively highlighted in that Cas thinks he’s not useful enough to be wanted)

Sub Plot:

Castiel’s autonomy

Cas’ fall from grace, to trying to restore Heaven, to wrecking it further

He’s majorly depressed by the end of s7 (before purgatory)

Wants to stay in Purgatory but doesn’t tell Dean

Remains depressed after leaving, but resolved to keep living on because he’s clearly meant for something

After the seraphim reveal: does he have free will?! How does he grapple with this? How does he live in a way he can be proud of?

And lastly

Sam gets his powers back CAUSE THATS HOT

where tf did they go????

he got them from Lucifer?????

sleeper agent??????

Sam is The Chosen One

Accepts that he is More Than Human and to celebrate all parts of him

Lucifer and Sam friends?? Work together????

Sam needs autonomy in his choices/his life

If you compare these to the overall arc of TFW within the two stories, I think I got a lot of them! But you’ll also note a lot of these things aren’t concrete goals that are easily measurable (ex: Dean wants to learn to bake pie. In chapter 1 he starts a fire in the kitchen. By the end of the story he finally makes A Good Pie.) part of the lack of concrete milestones was why I felt it was important to tell Dean (and Cas’) story by going back to the point they meet, in s4! Dean’s gradual change towards his feelings for Cas, his relationship to Sam (heavily influenced by the s7 events of this fic) and then his own relationship with himself were such slow burns that I felt it would be a disservice to try and cram a change like that into a timeline like “1 year”.

I felt like these subtle changes and adjustments actually felt a lot truer to life-- people often change in very small, gradual ways over time, even without realizing it and often times not consistently! If only we could all gain skills like the sims, where we can easily level up and remain at that high level of performance!

So the Guy Who Ate Satan, A Celestial Nuke that Developed Sentience, and Dean walk into a bar…

Sam’s story in Spn The Show has always been a ‘chosen one’ kind of narrative. Sam is living with one foot in the realm of the monsters, and I wanted to bring that back full force! It really makes sense for him that he should only continue to grow in power, might, and magic!! As the story progresses.

Cas also got a power up! I do desperately love in the show that he was kind of a grunt/nothing angel, and so even when he defected to TFW he was a huge help for them, but in the scale of things he was an annoying fly to most other angels. It really worked for the underdog story of s4/5. In this I wanted to give him a power up, and originally it was actually going to be close contact with Sam that eventually changed Cas into something unknown (you can still see traces of this in ch34 of TBAM, where Death remarks ‘Castiel could be [Sam’s] first creation’. But for a combo of reasons: how Sam’s magic needed to have intent, the entire concept of free will and consent, and how much I wanted Dean and Cas to have their effect on each other, I decided to go with the route that Cas has actually always been something angel-adjacent rather than becoming something new. TFW/Supernatural has always been about free will and making your own story, so I amplified that with Cas.

Dean has always been A Normal Guy, which is part of the appeal of him and Sam (2 normal dudes!) taking on the Very Not Normal. As explained above, Sam’s story is ‘normal guy finds out he’s the chosen one’ and so, in a story about very large concepts and huge monsters and acts of magic, I felt it was very important to keep Dean as normal as possible. To the point it became a running gag to me, personally, in that ‘no matter what cool shit happens around him, Dean has to stay as Just A Guy’. And it’s a very humanizing role that allows the story to have the scale it does!

What were the most important themes in your story?

Sam’s Autonomy

I wasn’t even going to include the plot about Lucifer’s death in this story— that was going to come up in a later story, actually! And rather than Sam having ate Lucifer, the original idea was that they’d become a SamandLucifer entity (this harkens back to a concept I wanted to write when Swan Song first aired).

That storyline would have involved a lot of mental ‘Sam and Lucifer discuss what it means to live, which one of them is more worthy of life and if they do deserve to destroy the world for the pain they’ve been forced to go through, just to create the dichotomy of good and evil for everyone else’ discussions. There would be a lot of talk about how Sam hates and fears Lucifer for the pain Lucifer put on Sam, how Lucifer hates Sam because he and Sam are the same but Sam’s brother loves him anyways, etc.

Ultimately that was scrapped because Sam’s entire story in the show is always about how the world and everyone around him manipulates him and that he never actually gets to make choices about his own life or body that aren’t influenced or part of someone elses’ design. And that always bothered me that Sam was never allowed to be himself without having to be ashamed of it, and I wanted to make sure that Sam’s triumph of being proud of himself/proudly choosing to exist (again) was evident in his story

In the end I needed Sam to have this visceral win over his tormentor. As the story shows, in this case Lucifer was abused and put into a position where he was incapable of empathy and could only express himself in violence. Sam even understands this! But it doesn’t change the fact that Lucifer tortured Sam in unimaginable ways for thousands of years.

With that in mind I didn’t like the idea of Lucifer and Sam having “co-ownership” of their new identity, so I made the choice that Sam had to be the survivor. This tied in well with Sam’s new crusade to restore free will to the universe, because he’s breaking the narrative of his own story!

While Castiel wasn’t a pov character, his own autonomy and free will was equally as important. You’ll note that many, many paragraphs and conversations revolved around that theme and that in the end Cas followed himself (and love!) which ensured his freedom of self <3

The Brothers are WEIRD PEOPLE!!!! And Codependent to a Worrying Degree, but It’s Also How They Survive

It’s very hard to show “unusual” relationships when you’re writing from the pov of the two people who don’t think there’s anything weird about their relationship. Sure, they say ‘yeah it’s probably weird that we still share a bed’ but that’s kinda more in line with ‘I had a nightmare and I want to be close to the person who makes me feel safe’. Hashtag normalize co-sleeping when you need it!!!

From there I did try to point out how the boys have a weird perception of lifestyle in the little things they did.

From thrifting everything from clothes to appliances to books (thrifting is a valid lifestyle! It’s incredibly handy when you’re on a budget.)

To never actually having condiments or knowing how to use a dishwasher cause they’ve lived in a car, a motel room, or squatted in old houses their whole life.

I tried to have them wear each others’ clothes or casually swap things as much as possible. They live out of each others’ pockets!

Also the brothers are just weird people!! It’s hard to show from their pov, cause they don’t know how far off from normal they are, but like…

Everything about Sam and Amelia was NOT right like holy shit those two were wilding in their grief. They are very lucky things worked out for them and that they got to be hashtag Weird Girls together

Dean explicitly, in the story, gets horny after killing stuff!! Violence has done a number on his psyche and he’s gotten some wires crossed that maybe shouldn’t have been, or maybe could be worked out in a safe space but… uh… how likely do we think Dean is gonna go find a safe space to deal with any of his shit???

LOVE!!! Love is truly what this whole story is all about

If you’ve read the stories, you know how much emphasis I put on love. Love is the strongest force in the Spn Universe! It’s what averted the apocalypse and saved the world (Swan Song), it’s what created free will (Cas’ entire arc!) I love love!!!!

I went out of my way to not put any definitions on platonic love vs romantic love because I think love is love is love and how you express that is the difference. Neither is more powerful than the other because LOVE is powerful!! Sam and Cas are the most important people in Dean’s life and he loves them equally! He shows this by giving Cas kisses and stealing Sam’s socks.

It’s a personal pet peeve of mine when I have to hear explanations like ‘I love you, like a brother’ or ‘I love you, but like, as a friend because I’m a lesbian and you’re a man’ etc etc in media. If you have to continuously define how your characters love each other, then I don’t think you’re doing a good job of portraying their relationship. So you’ll see that I never put those parameters in any conversation. Dean DOES muse that he loves Cas differently than he loves Sam or Bobby, specifically because there is a romantic and sexual tone that his feelings for Cas takes, but not because he loves Cas more or less than he loves Sam or Bobby.

Which means, if you haven’t realized it yet, the Series + Fic Titles are meant to be a complete sentence because the power of love IS the thesis of this series:

The Love It Takes To Exist Again (Sam’s journey!)

The Love It Takes To Become a Man (Dean’s journey!)

The Love It Takes To Destroy a Man (TBA)

And now for fun stuff. Behind the scenes!!

What’s Something People Probably Don’t Know?

The demonic fungal/hydrothermal vent growth on Sam’s arm was thrown in literally as I was posting the chapter because I had just finished a 48 hour cram session of writing a report on tube worms for an ecology class (I was chanting my tube worm song as I wrote it) and it ended up being a HUGE hit with both readers and myself. But it was so last minute I had trouble fitting it in more throughout the rest of Sam’s story!

Cas’ orders? That may or may not have bound him to Dean and removed his free will? Were written into Sam’s story and I went ‘oh SHIT that’s compelling’ and then left them there as a ‘guess I’ll figure that out when I get to Dean’s story lol’

Originally Dean and Cas were supposed to get together after having their souls bonded, and have been in a UST limbo the entire time before that. Mostly because I think the entire concept of ‘we just got married of the soul I guess we should try dating?’ is very funny. CLEARLY the two of them were way more eager to fall in love than I anticipated (thank you Cas for your honesty) but you can still see shades of this original idea here and there (especially in ch35 of TBAM)

I never intended Dean and Benny to connect so well!! Benny was going to reunite with Andrea, she was going to live, and they were going to go off into the world and leave the story. And, uh, here we are. I’m still debating if I need to adjust the relationship tag or not haha. Polyamory is fun, especially when I was planning for Sam to be the polyamorous brother...

Speaking of, I can’t believe I forgot about Sam and his sexuality! If I rewrote TEA I would have had Sam contemplate more on his lack of sexual appetite due to trauma, up until he meets Benny and he gets to rediscover how he wants to be a sexual person

Many of Sam and Dean’s absolutely stupid sibling conversations were lifted near-verbatim from conversations I’ve had with my siblings

And lastly...

Dem where’s Kevin????????????? Where is our sweet baby boy????????

He’s SAFE!! He’s in the Hunter pipeline somewhere cause Sam handed him off to Bobby’s people. He and his mom are safe and at some point they probably got rib sigils like SalmonDean did against angels, but for demons. I didn’t have room in this story for him!!! But my baby boy is SAFE and I want to get him back to university because it’s WHAT HE DESERVES!!!!

To that point: god there were/are SO many characters that I just didn’t include in the story so far because I didn’t feel comfortable including them without stalling the story for them. To that point: pretty much everyone who is alive/dead in s8 is that way in this story, except Bobby who gets to live.

[Check Out Part 2 for reader questions!]

#the love it takes series #to exist again fic #to become a man fic #dem speaks

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charmspoint · 3 years

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THANK YOU FOR SAYING THAT ABT THE BSD MANGA ILY THANK YOU I FEEL LIKE MY OPINION IS FINALLY VALIDATED WHICH IS: BSD has turned meh. I have become indifferent towards the plot due to the fact there are no real stakes - I feel like the OP characters like Dazai will always have a solution with a deus ex machina feel to it, making it impossible for me to care. With the recent chaos happening in the manga (I too gave up on the manga a year or so ago!), I was baffled to find out I could no longer enjoy it. My memory is poor, and I can't really pinpoint it at the moment, but BSD just... doesn't engage me as it used to. Keep in mind I was an obsessive fan of it and analyzed it to the tiniest details, but all of my great love for the series has long died, sadly. But! I am glad to hear you feel similarly about it because, yes, the potential was there, but it got terribly wasted.

Bruh don't I feel it, me and @autumn-foxfire have like monthly bitch sessions about the state of bsd at this point. I was also super invested in it in initial arcs (Up until the guild arc ended) and then slowly started petering off only to drop it the first time around the hunting dogs introduction. Then after some time i was like okay ill go give it a second shot, came to the vampire arc went 'wow this is really fuckin stupid' and dropped it again. Idk will I pick it up again, maybe I'll just stick to being an anime only, even tho I also have problems with some adaptation things but that's BESIDES THE POINT.

Please click under for The Point

The thing about Kafka is: He's really good at coming up with interesting concepts and ideas and REALLY BAD at executing them in any sort of satisfying way. Like, when I say I only like bsd until the end of the guild arc, I don't mean it was perfect. It could have handled it's female cast better, it would have been fun to see more mafia and agency team ups besides soukoku and shin soukoku, I still don't get why shin soukoku is supposed to be a replacement in training since Dazai and Chuuya still work together perfectly and even if they hate each other they hate each other less than Akutagawa and Atsushi AND have way more experience fighting together but that once again is besides the point. The point being those arcs of bsd were SATISFYING. We got introduced to two organizations, seen them butt heads and then have them forced to work together against a common enemy. It's very simple but it's effective and it's satisfying.

And then the rats struck.

While up until then bsd wasn't perfect it was fun and had lovable characters and an interesting plot and engaging dynamics. Rats arc wasn't horrible per say, the idea of the cannibalization was really fun (Though I think Kafka should have used it to get rid of Mori, nobody fuckin likes Mori) but this is where we slowly get introduced to what I think are two main failings of Kafka's writing: That he's unable to handle characters properly and that he likes writing smart things but doesn't know how to write smart things.

Kafka has a very, very bad habit of INTRODUCING TOO MANY FUCKING CHARCTERS. Every arc is a new massive group with like a bunch of members, one of who may actually end up being fleshed out before they are inventiblely replaced by another large group or maybe two why the fuck not. The mafia and the guild left lasting impressions on me and I can still name all the main members but fuck me if i know a single rat aside from Fyodor (AND ILL GET TO FYODOR). Kafka feels like someone who's idea of rising conflict is 'introduce a bigger enemy each time' and it's just so annoying. Chapters and arcs end up centering around these groups of new characters while old characters, who we loved the manga for, just fall into obscurity. He almost had me in the hunting dogs arc by giving Yosano a backstory. I was so excited! I was like!!! finally development for the agency!!! But that barely went anywhere did it. I've talked about this with Foxy but it really feels like Kafka is just BORED of the og characters and is trying to silently sideline them for his new shiny characters. When's the last time we saw Chuuya again, you know, the ex partner of one of the series protagonists? The next predicted mafia head? Is he important? Foxy tells me Dazai's been sidelined too, fUCKIN DAZAI, for a good while I was sure Kafka liked Dazai a lot better than Atsuhi for protagonist and now he's getting sidelined. I know bsd is still really popular in japan but at this point i think it would have been more merciful for Kafka to just end bsd and start a new manga with new characters instead of doing whatever weird metamorphosis this is turning out to be.

Introducing new characters isn't a bad thing of course, but bsd has become mcdonalds of new characters. They are cheap and disposable. I can't feel anything for them because I know nine times out of ten they'll barely make any impact and they'll disappear as soon as the new group slides in. When adding new characters you should do so while knowing what role those characters will play in your plot, what will they bring. If a character is just there to waffle around until they get shoved away they should probably be cut because they are wasting time and space. AND YOU SHOULDN'T SIDE LINE YOUR CORE CAST FOR UR SHINY NEW CHARACTERS YOU'LL GET BORED OF IN COUPLE OF ARCS ANYWAY, ARE YOU A TODDLER???

I still think that bsd could have been SO much better if instead of focusing on the next big evil group they just focused on shifting tension between the agency and the mafia. I mean they've had to team up for the guild and then they immediately got thrown into the cannibalization. It would have been interesting to see them pull against and pull towards those ties made during the guild arc when they are forcefully pitted against each other again (and decide that killing mori would be in everyone's best interest). Instead we got, idk I already forgot what the rats arc ended up being about, atsushi and aku team up again yadda yadda yadda, Chuuya gets done dirty and never recovers, Fyodor ruins Dazai

SO ABOUT FYODOR. As I said, Kafka strikes me as someone who REALLY likes to write geniuses and who wants people to think he's super smart but also has no idea how to show his work. At first this was okay. We had Dazai and Ranpo who were very good at pushing the plot along and sometimes you'd get explained how they got to that conclusion and sometimes you didn't but it usually wasn't a big deal. But then the writing became more and more and more of 'well he's smart so he figured it out so just trust me' without actually explaining anything and as you said, it ended up feeling boring, unengaging and very deus ex machina. You know what Kafka's writing reminds me off? That video about how Sherlock is so happy to stroke itself to how smart they look while never showing their work, you know the one. Kafka likes writing smart characters but doesn't actually know how to write smart characters so instead of giving us reasons and clues and explanations to how they come to some conclusion, how they predicted or planned or whatever, he just goes 'oh well they are super smart so they figured it out'. I don't think I need to explained why this is bad, annoying and unengaging writing. This is why i say Fyodor ruined Dazai for me, Dazai was fine as a genius but then they had to pit him against Fyodor who's another genius and things just got ridiculous. You know how in that sherlock video the guy points out the one scene that encapsulates every irritating thing about sherlocks writing. This had been it for me and BSD (thank you Foxy for helping me find the panels)

THATS NOT HOW CODES WORK, THATS NOT HOW ANYTHING WORKS, THEY WOULD JUST BE COMING UP WITH TWO DIFFERENT SETS OF CODES HERE. Even if they were both smart enough to remember every conversation in detail, how on earth are they supposed to 'guess out' what the other means. How are they supposed to confirm or deny that's what a certain word means in a way that can be understood, how can they even guess what the word the other guessed is IF THEY ARE BOTH TALKING IN CODE. KAFKA'S ANSWER: THEY'RE MONSTERS, THEY ARE JUST THAT SMART, NO NEED TO EXPLAIN IT BECAUSE THEY ARE JUST THAT SMART AND THAT'S YOUR SOLUTION AND THAT'S BULLSHIT. This scene broke bsd in half for me and honestly made me dislike Dazai for a long time (I got better), but it honestly shows so well how Kafka wanted to make his characters so smart he actually made his manga really fuckin stupid, ruining very good and interesting concept he had started with.

In the end, Kafka writes how I wrote when I was 15. With no idea where the plot is headed, adding new characters and situations whenever it strikes his fancy whether they work for the story or not, ending up just flopping around plot holes and fizzled out character arcs and boring ass writing. And that's fine for a 15yr old writing fanfiction. It's not fine for a presumably grown ass published author of a relatively popular manga.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

#anon #bsd #if you like bsd dont read this i tear it apart #BUT KAFKA MAKES ME SO ANGRY AAAAA #IVE NEVER SEEN SO MUCH POTENTIAL WASTED SO EFFECTIVLY

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the-pale-goddess · 4 years

Text

Breakfast at Tiffany’s - Ethan Ramsey x MC (Tiffany Addams)

Tiffany surprises Ethan with a fancy breakfast.

It’s all cute until it turns to filth. Then it’s fluff again. Aaaaand back to slutty. A three-course, self-indulgent breakfast, if I may convey.

Rating/Category: Explicit / smut with a side of fluff

Warnings: p*rn with no plot, language

Author’s note: Coming back to my OH2 more or less canon fic business!

Here’s the smutty part of the little band aid I promised for all the harm I’ve done to you with Home With You AU. I just wanted to give you something sweet before we proceed with the emotional rollercoaster in Chapter 3...Well, I did my best, but my filthy mind would never allow me to write some pure and innocent fluff 😅 Hope it’s not too slutty for you lol You’ve been warned!

Please, forgive me the title - I just saw the opportunity and I took it lol

____

Ethan opened his eyes with a sinking feeling this Thursday would be out of the new ordinary. His bed was cold and empty. There was no cascade of black hair unwittingly waking him up with a gentle tickle on his skin, no tender caress begging him to stay in the sheets a tad longer.

Another surprise awaited when an overfamiliar appetizing smell hit his nostrils, forcing him to rush out of bed in order to investigate the unexpected scene.

The missing piece of Ethan's morning routine was dancing her way through the kitchen, wreaking sweet havoc with a pile of dirty dishes and different ingredients scattered all over the kitchen island, just to cook a tower of flawlessly fluffy pancakes – now proudly placed on display near the oven. They looked perfect, but not as perfect as Tiffany in the weak morning light; her dark wavy hair falling down on bare shoulders, in contrast to the lacy white lingerie set that flaunted all her curves. She was swinging to the tune she whistled to herself, oblivious of the lurking admirer.

„I don't think I'll ever get used to this view.” Ethan's voice got her spinning around in a flutter to face him. He was leaning against the fridge, an adoring smile playing on his lips as his eyes were roaming over her silhouette. She flushed furiously under the intensity of his gaze, trying to hide the sudden clumsiness of her movements with a sheepish beam.

„Your girlfriend cooking breakfast for you in nothing but her underwear?”

He eyed her intently, biting his bottom lip before he answered with a poker face. „My kitchen in disarray.”

Tiffany shook her head incredulously, as she strained the freshly made raspberry sauce through a sieve. „Trust me, it'll be worth it. And don't worry, I'll clean everything up later, Doctor Terminator.”

„It already is.” He pulled her body close to his, causing her back to collide with his chest. „I can't believe you're still using that nickname.”

„You have to admit it's catchy.”

„Mhm. Do you need any help?” His arm draped over her shoulder, hugging her tight.

„Sure. There's a dozen of pancakes waiting for you. Hope you're ready for a sweet death topped with whipped cream and a home-made raspberry sauce.”

„I didn't plan on falling into a food coma, but you had me at pancakes. Meaning yes, I'm ready.” The powerful combination of Ethan's soft lips and his scratchy chin glued to the sensitive skin on her neck, peppering her with featherlike kisses.

„Someone's clingy today.” She gave him a loud peck on his forearm.

„I'm starving, Tiffany.” A husky whisper rolled in her ear, the words followed by a gentle bite that sent a red-hot shiver down her spine. She chuckled to herself.

„Good! I was genuinely scared that you'd hate the idea because of your love-hate relationship with pancakes. The sauce will need a few minutes to cool down a bit, and then – Oh!” Tiffany stopped dead in her tracks when the hard evidence of Ethan's hunger pangs pressed against her butt. She dropped her jaw in surprise, slightly amused by the realization she didn't get the hint quite right – it was a different kind of appetite. She spun round to face him, the wicked smile suggested she was more than eager to play along.

„On second thought, I suppose we can have a taste of what will be served today.” Never breaking the gaze, she dipped her finger in the whipped cream and offered it to Ethan. He licked it clean, keenly watching Tiffany's face turn crimson red.

„Not bad for a mixture of fat and sugar. Though it's far from what I expected to be on the menu.” Tiffany raised her brows, fake offended, her expression elicited a hearty chuckle from Ethan.

„Well, aren't you a picky eater, Doctor Ramsey? Luckily, I came prepared.” Her finger dived into the bowl with raspberry sauce. „Try some of this.”

„Mmm, delicious.” He gushed, his tongue slithering around her finger. „But yet again...That's not what I crave the most.”

”I wonder what would that be...” She bit her lip seductively as she reached for Ethan's hand. He swallowed loud and moved a bit closer just when she slipped his thumb into her mouth. The provocative movement had his imagination run wild. „Aren't you gonna tell me?”

„Tiffany, I...” Ethan failed to articulate his thought, too absorbed in sinful visions almost melting his brain.

„Tell me what do you crave, Ethan.” She demanded and he suddenly felt even weaker. His thumb got trapped in her mouth again, her other hand massaging his inner thigh through the material of his pants.

„You.” His voice dripped with wild need.

„How do you want me?” Tiffany released the thumb with a heady pop, holding his stare the entire time.

„I want to...”

„Do you want to come in my mouth?” She used his finger to brush her bottom lip, then grazed it with her teeth mere seconds later.

„Fuck...Yes, please.” He muttered, pressing his forehead together with hers.

Smiling magnetically from ear to ear, Tiffany crashed into Ethan, kissing him hungrily with their tongues twisted together. The prelude wouldn't last long, and in a flash she moved down his body – already hot and shivering with primal need. Her lips glided over every inch of his skin, placing open-mouthed kisses along the way. Just when she was low enough, she flipped her hair and dropped on her knees, pulling his pants down with her.

Ethan could swear that the very sight of her mischievous smile dancing around his throbbing cock was enough to make him come. He shuddered in tense anticipation as he watched her tease him with graceful strokes of her tongue wandering around his abdomen.

„Could you...” A tantalizing base-to-tip lick shut him up on the spot and took his breath away. She followed the same path with a soft touch of her lips, quietly humming with relish. His hips bucked involuntarily, overpowered by the tender sensation, begging for more.

The unspoken request was yet to be fulfilled – her slim fingers began stroking him at the base, while her mouth covered the sensitive tip. He groaned in response, his body temperature rising to a dangerously high level. His hand instinctively tugged at her hair, tying any defiant locks in his handy grip.

When Tiffany slid his whole length into her luscious mouth, the divine warmth took away the last bit of control he had, and made him gasping for air. Fighting back the tears was a feeble effort with his huge member hitting her throat, but she rose to the challenge, gagging violently before she adjusted to a safe and steady rhythm.

Ethan marvelled at the view of her watery emerald eyes gazing into his blues as she sucked him like her life depended on it, her precise tongue and skillful hand working him up to a blissful fever. The overwhelming feeling of pleasure had him moan ecstatically, bringing him on the verge of madness. Encouraged by the guttural sounds reserved only for her, she quickened the pace, bobbing her head up and down. His muscles reacted in an instant, tensing even harder, demanding an immediate release. A few moments later, he reached his high and spilled inside her mouth; the obscene groan of his climax ringing in her ears like a favorite song. She took the load with a triumphant smirk, swallowing every drop.

„This is grossly unfair.” He leaned on the nearest countertop awestruck, satiated and out of breath, struggling to keep himself standing.

„What is?” She got up, climbing up his body, and bit down on his shoulder blade.

„The power you have over me.”

Tiffany grinned, pressing her cheek to his broad back as she wrapped her arms around his chest. „But you did like the first course of your breakfast, didn't you?”

„I haven't eaten anything yet.” Ethan turned around, falling into her embrace with a pointed look.

„All right, I'll fill you up with these pancakes now.” Chuckling softly, Tiffany took a step back, seemingly ready to start the day, but Ethan kept her in place by holding her wrist. A gleam of lust reappeared in his eyes as he was slowly regaining his energy.

„Pancakes can wait a little longer. Let me eat you out.”

Before she managed to form a sentence, Ethan's fingers skimmed through her back and unclasped her bra, tossing it to the ground. His greedy hands began exploring her body, tracing her curves, only to slide his fingers behind her panties and pull them off, so they would share the fate of the bra.

„You know that I've never really understood the purpose of art, but looking at this absolute masterpiece right in front of me?” Tiffany raised her brows in surprise, returning his worshipful gaze. „I think I might modify my stance.”

„Wait, is that an actual compliment, or you're quoting some lines from the poetry book you'll soon be releasing?” They both snorted with laughter that quickly died when their lips fused in the hastiest, sloppiest kiss.

„I'll let you win this one, you deserve it.”

„Oh, what a lucky day!” She chirped in sarcastic tone. Ethan shook his head and lunged for her neck, sucking at her skin.

When his lips abruptly broke away from her, she yelped in protest, but little did she know what Ethan had in store for her. The burning desire in his eyes instantly set her body ablaze. He turned her around, brushing her messy hair away from her back, and began kissing her along the spine, inch by inch, moving excruciatingly slow. His beard rough against her silky flesh, scratching her pleasantly. She closed her eyes, relishing the delight of Ethan's touch. Suddenly, a piercing smack flew across her butt.

She jumped, flabbergasted, as her blood boiled with excitement. „Ethan Jonah Ramsey!”

„You liked that, didn't you?” He let out a supremely confident laugh and spanked her again.

„I plead the Fifth.” She giggled, biting her lip. His hands squeezed her bum and lifted her up. A moment later she lay flat on the kitchen island, legs spread wide and waiting.

Ethan wasted no time – his lips continued the journey across Tiffany's aching body, nuzzling her hips, kissing her thighs, licking her belly, sucking on her breasts. They were everywhere, except where she needed him most. He noticed how hopelessly she tried to catch his attention with the suggestive movement of her hips, but he decided to torture her for his own enjoyment, savoring the exquisite scent and taste of this very special meal.

Her impatience eventually rubbed off on him. At last, he nestled comfortably between her legs, and sunk his tongue directly into her soaked folds. She didn't even make an effort to tone her moans down and Ethan was quite grateful for that. His tongue worked its magic, lashing at her clit, knowing exactly where to suck to bring her over the edge. Her hips rolled to the rhythm of Ethan's licking, begging for more friction. He immediately read the sign, inviting his fingers to join the fun. He rubbed her expertly, all the while licking her swollen clit. She was so close, already sweaty and shivering, with hands on both sides of the countertop, her knuckles white from all the force she had to use to keep herself from falling down.

When Ethan kept his pace up, she knew he was going for the last bite. In the blink of an eye, she arched her back, coming hard as the outpouring of bliss washed over her. She fought for her breath, lying still with her eyes closed and mouth open.

„Don't get too comfortable there, Rookie, I'm not done with you.” She could feel him smirking against her skin when his lips moved down her trembling leg.

„Is it because last night I fell asleep during your precious documentary and we missed our daily dose of inappropriate snuggles?” Tiffany cracked up and Ethan soon followed.

„Yes and no.” He leaned his chin on her knee, meeting her gaze. „I know how much you hate both cooking and waking up early. This is the least I could do to make this morning more tolerable for you.”

„Keep spoiling me like that and I will literally melt.” A beam of unfiltered happiness spread over her face, her eyes filled with utmost adoration. „Besides, just to clarify: I hate cooking, but I enjoy doing it for you.”

An intimate silence washed over them as they stared at each other, basking in the glorious feeling of these small gestures of affection. Ethan shook his head in wonder, his mind racing. He wanted to tell her. He was certain she knew that already, probably even long before he had realized the nature of his feelings...And yet, his words failed him, offering a blank space instead of a proper way to name the drums echoing in his heart at the very thought of Tiffany. He quickly gathered himself, stood straight and cleared his throat.

„Enough chit-chat, we're on a very tight schedule. Stand up.” With a little help from Ethan, Tiffany jumped off the countertop and hooked her arms around his neck.

„Oh, I'll show you tight, sir.” She avowed with a devilish grin.

„God, you're impossible.” Ethan heaved a long sigh in response, right before their lips melted into a deep, fervent kiss.

Cutting to the chase, Tiffany turned her back to Ethan, colliding with his body. Without any hesitation, he entered her with a hefty push, filling her up in a way she'd never experienced before. She was perfectly accustomed to his size, but the standing position was brand new to them. She didn't expect that a slightly different angle could leave an all-consuming, almost agonizing feeling of fullness before he even began pounding her. A series of vehement whimpers escaped her mouth without her permission. Her chest heaved as she struggled to control her breathing. If it wasn't for his firm grip, her legs would surely give up.

Ethan immediately noticed the unconcealable shift in her demeanor. He cupped her cheek, slowly pulling out of her.

„Baby, is everything all right?” He whispered, his voice full of concern. „Do you want me to stop?”

She instinctively grabbed his hand and locked her body on him in a desperate cry, every word a torture. „I want you inside.”

He nodded, relieved, pulling her as close as it was humanly possible. Her head lolled back, resting comfortably on Ethan so they could still glance at one another. They exchanged a blithe smile, reflecting the dizzying sensation of each other's presence. His lips brushed her forehead in a sweet kiss just as he began moving inside of her.

He started off slow, pulling in and out as gently as he could, keeping her steady in his protective arms. Her previous remark proved to be right – she was insanely tight and dripping wet, her scent and unrestrained moans only adding to his arousal. He knew he wouldn't last long.

„Harder, please.” She whimpered, tightening her clutch on his arms. He willingly complied, deepening his thrusts, setting a merciless pace. The sound of slapping flesh punctuated by their heavy breathing and pleasure vocalized in the most indecent way.

Everything was Ethan – he invaded all her senses, emptying her mind, leaving nothing but his name. Tiffany could feel the thunder in his heart pounding on her back; his hands were mindlessly roaming over her curves as she remained trapped in his strong embrace. His fingers snuck to her clit, rubbing her with expert precision while his cock kept on ravishing her. She was mere seconds away from another orgasm, unable to communicate in any form other than shameless moaning.

Ethan was right behind her, chasing the finish line. His deafening groans got more desperate, thrusts slower and rigid, his fingers pleasuring her frantically, until they both cried out in unison – their bodies twisted in overwhelming ecstasy.

Tiffany toppled over the countertop, breathless – her blazing flesh took comfort in the cold of the marble, with fingers skimming blindly across its surface in a desperate attempt at keeping herself steady. She had no time to recover, as Ethan's body clutched at her tight, his burning skin clamping around hers. His ragged breath hovered over her ear, just as his hand dived into the damp mess of her hair, pulling her locks aside to gently suck on her neck.

„Oh, God...We should...” She panted with her eyes closed, tilting her head to give him more access.

„Mhm.” He hummed with approval, tracing scratchy kisses across her shoulder. „I know.”

Instead of acting on the incoherent thought, he turned her around, crashing into her lips without any warning. They kissed slowly for a long minute before Tiffany retreated, gazing into the endless ocean of his eyes. A cheeky smirk flew across her face.

„You called me baby.”

Ethan stared at her perplexed, his brows frowned. „No, erm...I didn't?”

„You totally just did.” Tiffany's laughter filled the room, the sound shook him to the core, along with the realization the pet name might have accidentally slipped through.

„No, you probably misheard that.” He stuttered an evasive reply, that earned a well-deserved scoff.

„Don't try to deny that you called me baby for the first time, and it happened – let me stress that – during sex.”

„Stop it. Let's not make a big deal out of this. We still need to get to work.” Ethan countered, hoping that the final argument was meaningful enough to end the cross-examination.

„That's a very convenient excuse, Mr I'll Casually Avoid Any Uncomfortable Topic. You're right, though. We should hurry up with the proper breakfast. But let's take a quick shower first.”

„Together?” He cocked his brows, sceptical about the idea.

„Yeah, why not?” Her index finger twirled around his nipple.

„We're already running out of time, we can't afford the further delay.”

„I thought you like a challenge, baby.” She pressed a wet kiss on his chest and broke the embrace. Ethan watched her walk off towards the bathroom with a tantalizing sway of her hips. He took a sharp breath, his eyes followed her every move, scanning her naked form up and down. When she reached the bathroom door, she shot him a sultry wink and disappeared behind the door. He shook his head, transfixed and defeated, muttering to himself.

„We're going to be late then.”

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Sorry if there are any typos or mistakes, this B is too tired to double-check lol

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Taglist: I’ll post it separately in a reblog because [tumblr] is being a brat

#ethan x mc #open heart #ethan ramsey #my fanfic writing #ethan ramsey x mc #sorry not sorry

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