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#anyway it's nice to write again
aceghosts · 1 year
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WIP Sunday
Hey everybody! It's a been while since I've done one of these, but I have some stuff to share. Tagged by @detectivelokis, @sstewyhosseini, @vampireninjabunnies-blog, @direwombat, @clicheantagonist, @nightbloodraelle, and many more who I've forgotten to tag.
Tagging: @jinfromyarikawa, @baldurrs, @marivenah, @fourlittleseedlings, @voidika, @captastra, @derelictheretic, @nightwingshero, @commander-krios, @indorilnerevarine, @strangefable, and anyone else who wants to share. I'm sure I'm forgetting people, but please feel free to take this as a sign to share your work.
I haven't been working on much as I've been struggling to write lately, but I do have something to share. It's from a RE prompt that I've been working on for Hunter and Wesker. The only content warning is for nightmares, but nothing else. Here is the snippet:
“-ter.” Their eyes snap open, sucking in a deep breath. Hunter’s limbs seize in panic as they momentarily forget to breathe. “Hunter.”
Albert’s voice is firm and steady, tethering Hunter down as they slowly come back to reality. Taking shaky, uneasy breaths, Hunter looks around, realizing that they aren’t in Albert’s lab anymore. Instead, they’re in his office, presumably on the dark leather couch, one that Hunter spent too many nights crashing on. Some that included Albert, and others that didn’t. Something heavy lays on them, and it takes Hunter a few seconds to realize that it’s Albert jacket. The long trench coat is draped over them like a blanket, the pressure warm and comforting. They catch a mixture of leather and Albert’s favorite cologne. A second later, Hunter realizes the comfortable pillow beneath their head is Albert’s lap. He runs his fingers through their shaggy black hair, his gaze focused on the report in his other hand. They look up, their faded green eyes meeting Albert’s golden ones, free of his iconic sunglasses. “Nightmare, Dearheart?”
“Yeah,” They croak, their throat feeling raw. “Where-?”
“My office.”
Hunter frowns. “Fuck, did I fall asleep in the lab?”
Albert nods. “I noticed when you dropped your sketchbook on the floor.”
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posting this with absolutely no context
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harbingersglory · 4 months
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hii could i req an soft dom arlecchino x sub/fem reader?? something w a really needy whiny reader n maybe like a mommy kink or thigh riding IDK tysm for ur time !
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{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader {☆} warnings 18+ content
"Slowly, doll. We're not in a rush." Arlecchino reprimands lightly, squeezing your hips with just enough force to keep you unmoving on her thigh– she was still being gentle, but the subtle warning in her tone spoke to how easily she could push you against the desk and turn you into such a mess that you couldn't even remember your own name..just that you were hers.
But the barest hint of stimulation from her slacks pressed against your throbbing cunt had you twitching, barely able to form words. All you could think about was the scorching, twisting need building in your stomach, desperation for relief slowly climbing until you'd think she was doing this on purpose to drive you mad.
"Please– 'm a good girl, right? I've been good.." You choked out, only to be met with the rough, husky laugh echoing in your ear that made you feel dizzy with a rush of need, her nails gliding along the skin of your hips as she pressed you down even more firmly– you couldn't see her face but it was easy to imagine the crooked smile twisting her lips at the way you inhaled sharply and tried to buck against her thigh.
"Shh. I know, doll. I've got you, just relax." She murmured in that sickly sweet tone that always had your knees buckling, the raspiness of her voice sending shivers down your spine. It was almost impossible to relax with her so close, the notes of metal lingering on her skin despite how well she presents herself– but you trusted her, despite how you know you shouldn't.
"There we go. Good girl." Arlecchino's grip on your hips loosened just enough for you to move if you so wished, and oh did it take every ounce of restraint to not do just that..she hadn't said you were allowed to, and you weren't about to spoil her good mood by being a brat. Not tonight, anyway. "Do you want to cum, doll?"
The fervent nod you offer in place of words draws a laugh from her lips, one that is almost mocking, making your face flush in embarrassment– but the sudden tap against your hip makes your mind go blank to the point you forget it all together, focused only on the feeling of her thigh rubbing against your cunt as you bucked against her thigh, the fabric slick and wet against your inner thighs. You'd have half the heart to be embarrassed about that, too, if not for the sudden brush of her thumb against your aching, neglected clit. Just that small touch has you speeding up your movements, practically drooling as you whimpered like a dog in heat.
"That's more like it, doll. Such a pretty girl." Arlecchino hummed, her other hand trailing up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts and ghosting across your throat before settling on grabbing your jaw in a firm, yet almost tender touch as she tilted your head to the side just enough for her to pull you into a burning kiss. It left you lightheaded, grinding down against her thigh as she claimed your mouth as her own, her thumb still ghosting over your clit sporadically.
She'd spent so long teasing you, constantly touching you but never where you needed her, that you already felt like you were going to snap like a wire. She must've been in a really good mood, then, when she pulled away from the kiss with an almost predatory lick of her lips, yet she settled on pressing kisses to your skin rather then the usual sharp bite of her teeth as they sunk into the curve of your shoulder.
"Are you close? Go on. I want to see your face when you cum– you look the prettiest when you finally break apart, doll." Arlecchino mused idly– as if she wasn't talking to you while you continued to rub your aching cunt against her thigh, chasing your own release through shaky, strained breaths. Her thumb swiped over your lips, brushing strands of hair stuck to your skin from your face– at the same time as she swiped her thumb more firmly against your clit, creating a vicious contrast that had you both melting at the barest hint of almost softness from her and the touch of her hand between your legs, dragging you into an orgasm that leaves you trembling and, had she not shoved her fingers into your mouth, screaming, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.
"All done, little doll. Take it easy." She murmured, voice so quiet you almost didn't hear it, thumb swiping across your cheek to wipe away the stray tear, her hands pulling away to settle on your sides. "You did well– good girl. Let me take it from here."
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au where moon fills in while sun is "on vacation" and nothing bad happens
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thekittyokat · 11 days
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you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah
#sorry i got really into my feelings about mark hoffman again#the very specific version of him in my brain that i really really wish i had the time and energy to properly share with you guys#saw#well until i muster the energy to explode all of my feelings out into a fic. if you want to TRY and understand#know that my three biggest hoffman fic insps right now are as follows#your best kept secret hoffman. a series of mistakes hoffman. and rushed like a dreadful wind hoffman.#there is a very clear throughline just know i am extremely emotionally compromised rn#thinking about theee fics vs the canon path hoffman spirals down#something something the absolute tragedy of watching a man's descent into madness#the transformation of a man into a monster#and what could have saved him from himself and kramer's corruption#sorry i'm rambling so much oh my god i was just having such a crying fit out of nowhere about this#do you think he could feel it happening. do you think he was aware he was losing his mind.#the script version of him fucks with me so bad. the crazed rankings and the longer hair and him not being well kept anymore#it's impossible to think he didn't know he was deteriorating#fuuuck okay i need to either chill or write a whole longfic rn#i project on that guy so much i truly don't know if i could properly write my vision of him#until i do something more substantial the full extent of my hoffman exists for me and my boyfriend only. they get me like no one else#well ginny and jenna also get me. please read best kept secret and a series of mistakes Oh My God#where am i going with this. i like tag rambling actually this is a nice way to do it without forcing EVERYONE to read my delirium#anyways if you've read all of this i think i love you? feel free to dm me about hoffman and my very specific headcanons and aus#maybe soon i'll try and start writing my fics about this tragic man#i could never say any of this on twitter btw they'd string me up for my opinions on him as a sad wet beast who could have been fixed#if only he hadn't been weaponized first#god i'm too tired to even be as embarrassed about this as i should be. thought i unlearned cringe already#but i've been spending way too much time on twitter and they HAAATE hoffman there#rip. i know it's not that serious but i'm sensitive rn and hate feeling lonely in my thoughts#ok bye for real otherwise i'll never shut up. i might tag ramble more often bc this was therapeutic in a way i needed badly#cat chat
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Thinking about him falling asleep on top of the tower, overlooking the neighborhood. Also thinking about him waking up in the middle of the night due to strange happenings.
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flowercrowngods · 1 year
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✨🤍 some steddie softness for @thefreakandthehair's birthday, i hope it's the very best so far! 🤍✨(please please your day comes first, read this whenever you have time and space to breathe 🤍)
Eddie is not a religious man — far from it, actually. But there are a few things that make him believe in higher powers. In angels. In destiny and luck and a love so strong it could conquer everything. 
This very moment is one of them. 
Stevie, soft and sleepy beside him in the back of the car as Nancy is driving, the dim light of the passing street lamps painting his face in hues of gold like the light itself favours Steve Harrington, caressing his features with the softest of shadows. 
He’s beautiful. Ethereal. Perfectly angelic with his eyes closed, his whole body turned towards Eddie in the warmth of the car.
It takes Eddie’s breath away, his heart taking up space where before there were his lungs and ribcage, growing in size until he feels like he is about to burst. And even then he keeps looking, staring at that pretty face that looks so at peace with the whole world right now. Eddie has never seen Steve like this, but now he understands why people start wars. Why people defy gods and death itself to be with their one true love. Why Orpheus looked back. 
He understands. Because Steve, his Stevie, warm and safe and perfectly fine in the backseat of a car? That is everything. He doesn’t even need to kiss or touch so long as he just gets to look. And be. Oh, to be at the same time that Steve is. 
That might just be life’s greatest gift to him. 
A tiny sigh falls from Steve’s lips and Eddie really, really might be about to burst. 
“Hey, angel,” he whispers, because moments like this aren’t made for anything but hushed words, their truths too heavy, too sincere for the world to hear and keep on spinning. He doesn’t need the world to spin as long as there is Steve. 
“Hi,” Steve whispers back, his eyes still closed but the smile lighting up, luring Eddie in like he is but a moth drawn to the flame. 
Eddie leans in and rests his forehead against Steve’s, his hand coming up to cradle a light-kissed cheek. Steve leans into it, following Eddie’s hand like maybe they are twin stars pulling each other closer until there will be an explosion of light and creation. Steve nuzzles against his palm and leans further into Eddie’s body until they share the same breath — but still it’s not enough. 
Eddie wants to say so many things now that their hands are entangled, their soft exhales mixing. But after a while he notices that Steve is humming before gently singing along to the song coming quietly from the speakers. 
“Take it easy with me, please. Touch me gently like a summer evening breeze. Take your time, make it slow. Andante, Andante. Just let the feeling grow.”
Eddie knows the song, recognises it instantly, and his breath gets stuck in his throat once more. Because he has a secret. He loves it. He has imagined for the longest time that one day, someone would make it his song. Sing it for him, to him. 
He’s never told anyone because he has a reputation to uphold and more than enough metal music to listen to, but of course Steve wouldn’t care about his secrets being secret, and just oh so casually make his deepest, most private of dreams come true. 
He’s an angel, that one. A hero. Myths and fairy tales should be woven around that heart of his, folklore speaking of his name until history itself wouldn’t dare to forget. No one can convince Eddie otherwise. Not in that moment, not with Steve singing so quietly, so gently, so adoringly. 
I think I love you. I think I can’t ever stop, not when I’ve seen you like this. Not when you’ve just shown me what life can be about, what it should be about. Gods, I love you and love you and love you. 
That’s what he wants to say. 
But all that comes out is a marvelled, “Shit, Stevie.”
It has the desired effect of a huffed breath, an even wider smile, and Steve cuddling further into Eddie’s side, eyes still closed. Eddie brushes a kiss to Steve’s forehead and feels like maybe his love can make it into the fairy tale, too. 
It will. Oh, it will, when Steve finally lifts his head from Eddie’s shoulder and looks at him through hooded eyes, all soft and sleepy and safe. A moment passes like this and Eddie can’t breathe, maybe he can never breathe again — but it only lasts until Steve slowly, so very slowly begins to lean in to claim Eddie’s lips with a kiss so gentle it could bring him back from the dead. 
Eddie kisses Steve back just as slowly, because in moments like this there is no rush, no hurry. There’s only them, there’s only this. Only a kiss until there is another. 
And with Steve, there is always another. 
Nancy smiles as she is taking the long way to Steve’s house, rounding Loch Nora twice because she knows how comfy Steve gets in cars at night when he doesn’t have to drive and there is soft music playing. 
Eddie kisses her goodbye on the forehead, fully aware of what she’s done. He doesn't tell her about the sun and the myths and all the wars he would start for Steve.
Nights like this are not meant for telling anyone about them. They can hardly be believed as it is. They can only be lived, hand in loving hand.
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jesncin · 5 months
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The Potential of Asian Lois Lane. Pt 1: Girl Taking Over and American Alien, a comparative analysis
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Lois Lane has had many iterations over the years. But specifically in the last decade, Lois has been reimagined as an Asian American woman in both the comics and recently in the animated show My Adventures with Superman.
I believe making Lois Asian is a very inspired choice for the Superman mythos! I would like to take a moment to analyze these versions of Lois from an Asian perspective, seeing what works, what doesn't, and what I'd like to see more of. We'll start with the comics first, as MAWS is going to need its own post.
Usual disclaimers: I'm just one Asian perspective, I do not and never will claim to cover every Asian person's opinion on a thing ever. We're not a monolith, we come from a variety of backgrounds and experiences. I'm simply a fan who enjoys media analysis and believes it's valuable to have my perspective in this topic. Secondly, this discussion covers the comic run American Alien, which is written by Max Landis. He's an ultra creep and while I think the comic is worth a read for what it is, I leave it up to you whether you'd like to buy the comic. You can always arg-arg-ahoy otherwise.
I'd like to start with Girl Taking Over: A Lois Lane Story written by Sarah Kuhn with art by Arielle Jovellanos. This is a self contained YA graphic novel about a young Japanese American Lois dealing with the ups and downs of breaking into journalism as a career in National City. When her dream internship at Catco gets a corporate take over, Lois seizes an opportunity to write an exposé on a shady art director. But when her story is turned down, Lois does some out of the box things to get the story of marginalized performers shared with the world.
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Girl Taking Over is a fantastic story and I happily recommend it to anyone looking for how an Asian American Lois could be reimagined (with fabulous art by Arielle! The fashion especially is on-point). This story isn't just a diverse coat of paint on a Lois Lane story, being Asian informs Lois' experiences and choices. Both she and her frenemy roommate Miki, are ambitious Asian women yet have hidden insecurities where they still made themselves small to their respective white male bosses. They played into model minority in different ways, and it's only by working together that they're able to foster a community for their stories to be told.
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Lois and Miki don't just "have a diverse friend group", that friend group is actively being taken advantage of and suppressed by white gatekeepers. By extension, Lois' friends from work find solidarity in each other. Lois looks up to Cat Grant, a Filipina-American journalist, because seeing Cat succeed made Lois feel like her dream as a journalist is possible. I love how Lois' mom (a character so rarely expanded on in DC canon) acts as a voice of comfort for Lois in the story. All these characters feel holistic and whole, going through their own unique struggles.
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It's clear from interviews with both the writer and artist that they care for the history of Lois, and saw an opportunity to reimagine her in a way that aligns with her character but also revitalizes her for new readers of color who aren't used to seeing themselves reflected in media. It's taking Lois' ambition and fearlessness and channeling them into the need to be a model minority, and the insecurities that can come from the desire to succeed constantly. It's taking a character historically frustrated by sexism and disrespected by her male peers- including Clark Kent (who got better treatment than her as a man), and expanding her to be a Lois that has to deal with both sexism and racism in the workplace. It's humanizing Lois' excellence into something painfully specific and relatable for many Asian women.
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The only thing I feel I want from this version of Lois is... honestly more of her! I want to see what Japanese Lois does when she moves to Metropolis and works at the Daily Planet. I want to see how her experiences in National City informs her adulthood. Girl Taking Over sets up an incredible groundwork for stories to be told in the Superman mythos. How would Lois react to Superman, a fellow immigrant? Would Superman see himself in Lois? Since she's someone who, in the American context, is perceived as the perpetual foreigner? What would their relationship be like? Out of all the Asian Lois' in media we have so far, this Asian Lois' story has the most rich potential in my opinion.
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Up next, we have American Alien written by Max Landis. This 7 issue series swaps artists for each issue, as a means of reflecting different milestones in Clark's life. I will be focusing on issues #4, 5, and 7 since those have the most prominent Lois appearances. With that, I'd like to celebrate the artists for those issues: Jae Lee (issue 4), Francis Manapul (issue 5), and Jock (issue 7). All these artists did a fantastic job, their art styles are energetic and fun to look at. Lee and Manapul are both Asian artists (Korean and Filipino respectively) and I love how they draw Lois- who looks undeniably Asian in their art styles.
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American Alien is a modern take on the Superman tale. It expands Clark's story to be connected to Batman, Green Lanterns, Green Arrow, and more. We see Clark grow from his days in Smallville to a city boy in Metropolis, coming into his own as Superman. It's a bold and pretty divisive take with some standout story moments. From what I know, this is likely the first time Lois has been reimagined as Asian- and continues to influence Superman media like MAWS (the producer specifically calls out this comic as inspiration).
In issue #4, Clark moves in to his Metropolis apartment and talks on the phone to his mom about "some bigshot guy named Louis Lane". The reader, likely familiar with the Superman mythos, knows Clark is coming in with biases and a preconceived notion of who he considers a promising student reporter. Once we meet Lois Lane however, the comic turns the reader's expectations on their head:
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Lois Lane is an Asian American woman (it's not specified what her exact ethnicity is)! This is a fun moment where the comic metatextually challenged the reader's own biases, showing it's not just Clark who had a different idea of who Lois Lane could be.
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Lois' introductory panel is my personal favorite part of her characterization in American Alien. Lois proudly stands as a wall of text behind her recounts how she was considered as a winner for the Daily Planet's Charlton Memorial Laureate Program. When asked why she deserves a place on the program, Lois snaps back that the very question itself is loaded. She's listed her credentials and looks professional- so she's either already been rejected and is just being made to "at least had my say" or she's been accepted and is "meant to garnish my success with eloquent affirmation" to which Lois refuses to do either.
This is a great defiant introduction to Lois, showcasing how jaded she is with the way the world perceives her- but is very confident in her self worth as a journalist. By the end of the issue she reaches out to Clark to combine their exclusive interviews into one story to make a big impression on the news. Her words inspire Clark to seize an opportunity to make a big change in the world as Superman.
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Afterwards, the comic plays the classic Superman and Lois dynamic straight. Lois is initially suspicious of Superman, but eventually comes around and is inspired to hope through him. There's a great back and forth between the two where Lois' words initially inspire Clark to be Superman, then Clark assures Lois that Superman is probably just a good guy, and when Clark loses hope from a bad day of heroism, Lois gives him hope again. In the end, Lois realizes her love for Clark Kent over Superman and they share a passionate ending kiss.
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Overall American Alien nails the Clark and Lois dynamic and understands their relationship. I consider this Asian Lois "just okay". I like that we get to see an adult jaded Asian Lois meet Clark Kent and Superman, and see them get together. Similarly to Girl Taking Over, I'd like to see how this Lois and Clark would play out. My only issue with American Alien's Lois is a sense of missed opportunities.
The writing overall leaves room for plausible deniability over Lois' Asian identity. The artists (particularly Lee and Manapul) are doing the heavy lifting delivering Asian Lois. If she was drawn as a white woman, none of the writing would need adjustment. Sure her introductory panel implies that people judge her based on her appearance- but that could be just sexism instead of the intersectional experience of Asian Lois going through racism and sexism. Clark did assume she was a man after all- it's never specified if he assumed she was a white man. The only thing you'd lose is the metatextual shock value of Lois Being Asian This Time. That's really what this Lois boils down to, initial shock value with no specific writing to follow through. Her marginalization and identity is written broadly enough that it could be attributed to general sexism and womanhood. It's not specific to being an Asian American woman.
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However, because of its broadness, there's room for Lois' Asian identity to be built on in the world of American Alien. The story centers Clark's experiences, but I can easily imagine a continuation of the story expanding on Lois'. The basic groundwork is there. I think it's telling that in a comic called American Alien, we get a more diverse Superman cast system. Jimmy Olsen is Black, Lois Lane is Asian- when Clark moves to the city it feels expansive compared to Smallville. It's a world that feels ready to tackle themes of racism if it was ever to continue (and probably in the hands of a writer with that kind of life experience!). In the end, there's room for this Asian Lois to be something special. Clark isn't the only American Alien in American Alien, if you catch my drift.
You can see how Girl Taking Over has a huge piece of what American Alien is missing. The characters aren't just diverse for shock value, they're not an aesthetic change over historically white characters. They have a story to tell that is inseparable from their identities. Whereas in American Alien, the art is doing the heavy lifting with the reimagined diverse characters- Girl Taking Over has both the writing and art carry the representation. Lois can't be changed into being white in Girl Taking Over.
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Both of these stories have potential- but if I had the choice to pick which story should continue, it would easily be Girl Taking Over. This graphic novel works for what it is: it makes sense that this is a younger and idealistic Lois that hasn't met Clark or Superman yet. It's a YA book and Lois can absolutely carry a story on her own. What I want as an Asian fan, is for the potential of Asian Lois Lane to be seen through to the point it's considered the definitive version. As of right now, Girl Taking Over is a fun twist on the Lois Lane story. Not something that is seen as inseparable from the Superman mythos. However! If those themes of marginalization and immigrant identity are tapped into for both Superman and Lois Lane? I feel that has the potential to radically strengthen the overall themes of Superman. It's certainly been touched on before.
(TW/CW: racial slur mention in below image)
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Superman Smashes the Klan by Gene Yang with art by Gurihiru is a retelling of the Clan of the Fiery Cross arc in the classic radio show The Adventures of Superman where Superman faces off with the Klan who had been terrorizing a Chinese American family. The graphic novel adapts the story to center the Chinese American characters, and makes it a point to show that Superman relates to them. If that dynamic was applied to Asian Lois, that feels like a definitive love story waiting to happen.
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The classic two person love triangle with Clark and Lois is that Lois loves Superman and is indifferent to Clark Kent. She thinks Superman is this ideal macho man and Clark is a cowardly fumbling guy at work who rivals her. What happens when you take that dynamic and made it so Lois identified with Superman- the more othering identity? How complicated would that make Clark Kent feel? How would he navigate that when his marginalization isn't always visible? That's a whole new depth to the love triangle we're not used to seeing. I feel so far, none of these versions of Lois have touched upon this potential dynamic. The perpetual foreigner, Lois Lane and the ultimate alien foreigner that is Superman. The jaded city girl meets the alien farm boy who gives her hope. They inspire each other to be more of themselves in a world not ready to accept either of them.
Up next, we'll be discussing My Adventures with Superman's Korean Lois Lane in pt 2. It's well. You can probably guess how I feel about it from what I wrote here but welp. We'll talk about it.
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exdeputysonso · 5 months
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Blue Velvet (1986) Press Photos
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jtl-fics · 5 months
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Fluent Freshman - Part 44
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The flight up to New York is a pleasant one.
The time in the airport itself had been less pleasant. Matt, as it turns out, is a firm believer in arriving with just enough time to check a bag, get through security, and get to the gate. He had claimed up, down, left, and right that he had it down to a science.
No matter how many times Smith had wondered about the scientific rigor of this 'science' he still kept it to himself. There was no need for Smith to voice his uncertainty with this plan because Kevin well and truly had it covered.
"You're giving us only an hour to check bags, get through security, and get to our gate?!" Kevin demands.
"Kevin, if you wanted to be there earlier then you could have asked Andrew to give yo a ride." Matt says. "We'll be fine."
"You know what Neil and Andrew get like when they have a long roadtrip ahead of them." Kevin argues.
"All lovey-dovey?" Nicky asks as Aaron makes a gagging sound.
"No, well yes, but no they always stop and buy all of the worst food too." Kevin reminds. "I'm just concerned about us missing our flight! We have barely enough time!" Kevin huffs crossing his arms.
"You're wrong anyways." Aaron says idly as he continues to text with Katelyn.
"How am I wrong?!" Kevin demands.
"We also have to park within that hour that Matt has left us with." Aaron says looking up from his phone.
"Matt!" Kevin squawks.
"It'll be fine." Matt reassures for the 2nd time.
"We all have checked bags!" Kevin exclaims, "What if we miss our flight?!" he wails.
"It'll be fine!" Matt repeats.
"No it won't!" Kevin exclaims.
---
It was fine.
The only real delays they met were at security.
Smith prided himself on being efficient in the security line. He has his watch off, his phone and ID secured in a zipped jacket pocket, his backpack and electronics in separate trays, and his shoes ready to be slipped off.
So he was shamed to have been the cause of the first delay when the TSA agent wouldn't wave Smith through the metal detector since she didn't realize he was there. That had been a whole anxiety attack and a half as the line had formed up behind him all wondering what the hold-up was.
Finally she seemed to startle as she realized that Smith had been standing there waiting and waved him through.
The other delay was that Kevin got patted down after he had forgotten to empty his 'emergency' water bottle.
It was probably for the best that they didn't have to be in the airport for that long. Every announcement that it was very important to not leave your bag unattended made him worry that with every blink somehow someone had slipped a bomb into his backpack.
While it was on his back.
As he was running with the rest of his friends to their gate.
"It just had to be the gate on the other end of the terminal." Aaron huffs.
"It would have been 100% perfect if someone hadn't left their water bottle in their bag despite the, let me check, 3,820 signs that said remove all liquids from your carry-ons!" Matt says as they continues to run.
"I said I forgot!" Kevin yells back from his spot at the front of the pack. Smith was under the distinct impression that Kevin was keeping pace with them since he had seen the Striker move much faster on the court and during warm-ups.
"We could have forgiven that!" Nicky pants, "Why did you have to slam the whole thing to prove that it was 'just water'?" he asks.
"Because I wanted to prove I wasn't a national security threat!" Kevin says. "I'll be going to the Olympics in a couple years and I can't have that on my record." he continues as he rounds a corner.
"What record?!" Smith asks suddenly worried that there was a record.
"Smithy, there's no record Kevin's just an idiot. An idiot who got patted down, tested for explosives, and had his carry-on searched." Nicky huffs.
"You don't know that there's not a record! The record everything nowadays!" Kevin huffs and their gate is in sight.
"Kevin, just shut up!" Aaron exclaims as they reach the line for their flight.
"Wait why aren't any of you getting shitty with Smiths?!" Kevin asks.
"His delay was like a minute and more importantly NOT HIS FAULT!" Nicky defends.
"He should have just walked through!" Kevin argues.
"Oh it's fine if he gets a record but not you?!" Aaron asks.
"So there is a record?!" Smith asks again.
They reach the line and the largely empty area around their gate is more than enough evidence that this was the final boarding. Smith breathed a sigh of relief as he took his place in line behind Nicky.
"The lines pretty slow, I'm going to go get a water." Kevin says and before any of them can say anything he is off towards a busy looking Newsweek store.
"I cannot believe him." Aaron huffs.
"All that water he just drank and is about to drink? He has lost window seat privileges." Matt pants wiping sweat from his brow.
"Agreed." Nicky says.
Smith laughed between panting breaths. His stomach hurt a bit from the stress of running but it was fine.
They get on the plane without Kevin and head to their seats. Most of the overhead storage is taken up at this point but Smith slides his bag under the middle seat in front of him after Matt
In the end, Kevin barely made it onto the plane in time since he got caught up in deciding on water. "You're in my seat." Kevin says as the only man not yet seated.
"I am not about to spend this flight getting up every 2 minutes because you have to pee." Matt says, "Abby didn't used to need to take all those pitstops when we're on the bus." Matt adds.
"I hate the aisle, the cart could hit my legs." Kevin argues.
"Then you can sit in the middle if Smith's willing to move." Matt says.
"You can have the middle Kevin." Smith offers actually preferring the aisle seat since then he doesn't have to ask anyone to move for him.
"I hate the middle seat, there is no room." Kevin crosses his arms.
"Smith is like only 3 inches shorter than you and he's not complaining." Matt continues.
"It's an important 3 inches."
"I bet it is."
"Nicky, are you serious?"
"What?!"
"There is an uninvolved member of the public, right there."
"He's wearing headphones it's fine!"
---
It's fine.
Eventually Kevin takes the middle seat if for no other reason than Matt stubbornly pretends to go to sleep but absolutely does not want the aisle seat either.
Smith gives it up and ends up with his own preferred seat while Kevin pointedly takes both of the arm rests, as is his right. The plane ride progresses smoothly from there. Smith has always liked flying. There is always a sense that the second that he gets onto the plane and the door closes he has absolutely zero control over what happens afterwards.
That is a nice comfort.
He pays attention to the safety briefing, finds his nearest exit, and that he should secure the bag over his own face before securing it on Kevin's.
He puts his headphones on and tries not to think about the anxiety of meeting the 'girls'.
He has heard much about the 'girls'.
Allison Reynolds. Allison was someone who's legacy existed even outside of the team. Smith didn't know much about fashion but a Reynolds bet remained a solid practice within Palmetto. She was, undeniably, absolutely gorgeous and if Kevin was to be believed 'kind of a bitch'. Nicky had swatted his arm but had said that it was not entirely inaccurate but like 'in the best way'.
Dan Wilds. He met Dan. Dan was nice. Also, if Matt was to be believed, the best human to ever walk the planet earth. The reason the sun rose in the east and set in the west. The gravitational pull that held the universe together. If Andrew is to be believed, she's fine.
Renee Walker. Renee was the one who taught Andrew how to use knives. His friend has talked warmly of her, in the way that Andrew talks warmly about anyone which is mentioning them at all. She was the one that Smith was the most anxious about meeting.
Kevin turns his nose up at the ginger ale that Smith gets but he's allowed these now per his actual doctors orders.
1 hour left until arriving at JFK.
He hopes this ginger ale is enough to calm his stomach since he's still not allowed Pepto.
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MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU
NEXT
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redbootsindoriath · 29 days
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Apparently in my absence this post had its 1000-notes-iversary.
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This time we get to see the culprit responsible for ruining our heroes' lives as well.
I've really missed you guys, by the way. I know I've said that already, but I'm serious. Once or twice this year I've been right on the brink of coming back but schedule stuff always keeps me from letting myself commit to that again, and that in turn has kept me from posting anything at all. But I've been in an unexpected drawing mood lately and so if I can get enough stuff to set up a queue we might pretend I'm back for a month or so sometime this year. Maybe. Hopefully. We'll see. No promises though. That's why I'm hiding this paragraph under the cut.
Transcription:
[Beren:] "Uhhh...barkeep...I think he's had enough now..." [Tolkien:] "No, I don't think he has...!"
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corrodedcoughin · 1 year
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little story about little Eddie and his 2 new friends | word count approx 2.5k | general audience rating | steve and eddie are kids and Wayne is a pushover
Wayne sometimes thinks it was a mistake, not taking in the boy. God no, he would never think of Eddie as anything other than an important and intrinsic part of his life, couldn't be without him, wouldn't want to be. 
No, what Wayne worries about is how his readiness to help Eddie feel loved might contribute to the boy's difficulty in making friends.
It was an innocent enough request, Eddie asked for a pet as all young children do. He was so small and so wide eyed, just a scrap of an 8 year old with more feelings than he knew what to do with. Wayne knew he'd never hold up against any request Eddie made but he liked to pretend to himself that he could. And while technically he never pandered to the boy, yes Eddie usually got what he wanted but in a way that suited their means. Or so Wayne tells himself. 
8 year old Eddie asked for a pet and a pet is what he got.
-
Eddie barrelled into the trailer door, backpack swinging off his arm and ready to be thrown into the corner. Planning to shoot off back out the door to do his usual; lift up rocks and inspect whatever bugs he could find, to grab sticks and imagine them as wizard staffs, to let his imagination finally run wild after hours of sitting still at a desk under too bright lights and too busy class rooms. In truth he wasn't really paying attention to the insides of the trailer, expecting it to be the same as always. It took a very pointed cough for Eddie to register that Wayne was unusually home from work, far earlier than normal, and a further loud clearing of the throat for Eddie to pay attention to what Wayne had placed on the kitchen table. 
Right in the middle of the table, sitting in a beam of sunlight, was a cage and in that cage was what would soon become, Eddie's very reason for being. He crept up close, almost as if scared that any sudden movements would prove the whole thing to be a cruel illusion. He was brought out of his reverie by a pink nose wiggling at the bars, whiskers attached and twitching as the rest of the rat appeared.
'is he-? is he for real?' Eddie said with a gasp, hands inching towards the door of the cage. 
Wayne had to suppress a laugh, trust this boy to be bowled over in wonder at a rat as if it were a puppy. He opened the contraption of the enclosure door and dipped his hand inside, allowing the rat to climb onto his palm. The guy from work assured him that this one was the most tame he had, inquisitive to a fault and oddly enough, desperate to be handled. Quite honestly, the perfect match for his well meaning but excitable nephew-near-enough-son. 
'Yeah, yeah kid it's for real. And he's a she.' Wayne lets the rat sniff at Eddie's hands, little pink hands finding a platform on Eddie's palms, clearly holding himself a still as possible but if Wayne knew this boy, and he did, he knows that Eddie is so close to vibrating out of his skin, that containing that much excitement must be killing him. 
'I don't care. Wayne, I don't! Can she sleep in my room? Does she know tricks? Can I teach her? What does she like? Can I take her to school? Please! Wayne!' He's started now, words pouring out of his mouth, tripping over himself to try and release every thought entering his brain at lightning speed.
'Woah, there' Wayne says pulling the rat up, cradling it in two hands, 'We got to be kind to her alright? She's only small. Doesn't know what loud noises are good and which are bad, okay?' He watches as Eddie nods vigorously, eyes never leaving the creature. 'Now you promised me you'd look after a pet so that's what's going to happen. She is your responsibility. That means cleaning, feeding and loving, got it?' Eddie nods again, tentatively reaching his hands up, the image of Oliver Twist springs to Wayne's mind. 
Wayne comes around the kitchen table, crouches down to Eddie on creaky knees and hands the rat over, filling Eddie's small hands with a heartbeat and fur. Eddie giggles, watching as the rat surveils the new patch of skin its found itself on. 
'Tickles, Wayne' and its said with such love and devotion Wayne almost feels his heart break 
'Yeah son. She does, doesn't she?' 
-
 Of course it takes less than a week and Eddie and Sam are inseparable. As soon as Eddie gets home he's itching for his furry friend, delighting in the way she scampers around the room, over his arms and anywhere she can get. No matter what though, she always comes back to him. She can be digging in to a particularly interesting crevice behind the couch but she'll always come running back when she hears Eddie make a noise.  
The thing is, Eddie is a pretty lonely kid. Not for lack of trying, don't get it wrong. Eddie tries to socialise he tries to talk to the other kids in his class, get them involved in his imaginary games and play pretend but being the new kid doesn't really do him any favours. Being the new kid that lives in the trailer park and a penchant for biting to show affection does him even less. 
To Eddie, its him and Sam against the world. He can come home and know that his best friend will listen to all his problems, will stay close and won't run away even when he's extra loud or being 'a lot' as his teacher like to tell him. He's so tired of being told to use his 'quiet hands', his 'inside voice' and every other subdued phrase they try to press on him. 
This particular day was a hard one, Sally Winters had said that Eddie was 'bad luck' and the word quickly spread around by recess. Eddie had thought he was making some progress with a couple of kids from the class, was thinking today might be the day that he finally got asked to play but that hope quickly got squashed. He had hopped up to the potential friends with a stick in his hand and a notion of being a pirate when they both looked at him like he was a monster, they couldn't get away fast enough. And Eddie couldn't find a place to hide quick enough before the fat and heavy tears fell from his eyes. 
It was a long day and home time was his only saving grace. 
Wayne knows somethings up, can tell in the way that Eddie isn't even really talking to Sam, hardly looking at the Tv despite the fact that Wayne very purposefully had put the cartoon Lord of the Rings movie on. The sure fire fall back he liked to keep in his back pocket. The trump card to get his kid happy. This time though? No luck. Looking at the kid makes a chasm open up in his gut, deep and full of overwhelming sadness that he just wants to stop, wants to find the solution to make this boy smile like the sun again. They don't talk much for the rest of the night but Wayne makes sure to stay close, stay awake in case he's needed. Eddie spends the time between dinner and bed sitting on the floor, side pressed up against Wayne's leg and playing fetch with bits of Wayne's whittling with Sam, not a word said. 
-
Eddie wakes up the next morning with a plan and a devil may care attitude. Oh so carefully he maintains his usual routine; says good morning to Sam, carts her around the trailer as he washes his face and wanders into the kitchen, placing her in her secondary cage so she can eat breakfast with Eddie and Wayne - Eddie was adamant that they couldn't have meals without her, 'she's part of the family!' and soft hearted fool Wayne Munson agreed and an additional cage was sourced. 
When breakfast is finished Eddie begins his usual rigmarole of dragging his feet to get out of his pjs and into his clothes, reluctant to grab his bag and go out the door. Same old protests as Wayne watches him walk out towards the school bus. 
What is a new addition to the routine though, is Sam Munson hiding up the sleeve of a school boy and about to go on a secret and very dangerous mission. A mission to survive the school day. 
Surprisingly, Eddie manages to keep Sam secret, keep her safe, the whole morning. He came prepared with snacks to make sure she was entertained and happy, he couldn't stand the thought of her being sad, her eyes get so big and her tail droops as well as her ears, it makes the whole of Eddie ache. But no, she's happy, or happy enough at least. 
So the morning goes without a hitch, Eddie making noises to cover up any squeaks and keeping a hand in his pocket to reassure Sam, stowed in the pocket of his hoodie. He knows he's seen as 'weird' so what's a few extra noises? They are let out for recess and Eddie breathes a sigh of relief, thinking this is his time to let Sam out, knowing she's desperate for some fresh air. Sure, she's peed in his hoodie pocket, but he can't really tell with it's dark colour and the layer of t-shirt between the wet material and his tummy. 
He runs off to his usual corner, stuck between a bush and a tree and gently tips Sam out of his pocket, she scampers around his feet and gratefully accepts a broken off bit of cracker between her hands.
'Thanks for coming with me Sam. Everyone is so mean, its so stupid. I don't care. You are a better friend than any of those losers' He crouches down, hoping to find a twig to play fetch with. A game that he delights in, is immeasurably proud of her for learning it so quickly. 'Gonna find you the best stick Sam. Promise. Best stick for the best friend' 
He continues muttering to himself and doesn't notice that he's getting progressively louder after finding a twig and beginning the game. Doesn't register that he's drawn unwanted attention with his happy shouts and encouragement until a body is crashing through the shrub he's hidden himself behind. 
Sam doesn't notice either until the unexpected form is right in front of her and she bolts, running as fast as her legs will carry her and Eddie is right behind her, muttering under his breath as he trips over his own feet in an attempt to catch her 'oh shit oh no oh no oh no' He's pushing himself as hard as he can but it doesn't count for much, he never was the fastest. He keeps trying though but then a faster body is accelrating past him, in a evident bee line for Sam. 
Without thinking, Eddie lets out a painful 'NO!' terrified of what might happen.
He knows people think rats are dirty, thinks they don't deserve love and don't deserve life. He doesn't want to imagine what this person's intent might be. Sam reaches a dead end up against the wall of the school and the body, the boy, stops infront of her. Scoops her up? Cradles her into his chest? Eddie...Eddie doesn't know what to think, he's prepared to fight this kid but then the boy is looking up at him with curious hazel eyes. Stroking Sam's head gently and with intent.
He holds Sam out, careful with his motions, trying to blow his brown floppy hair out of his face without disturbing the animal in his hands 'is she okay? is she yours? did I hurt her? she looks okay, is she?' Eddie gingerly steps forward and plucks Sam out of the boys hands, gives hera thorough inspection as the other boy continues 
'I didn't mean to scare her I swear! I didn't even know you had her! I won't tell, I swear I wont! You know...you shouldn't really have a rat in school. If I promise not to tell can I play with you? I'm Steve' 
Holding her close, Eddie squints at the boy, at Steve, and thinks. Thinks about how he looks nice, about how soft his hair looks and how he asked Eddie, Eddie!, to play, that he didn't give him a wide bearth and that he held Sam with such care. It isn't even a hard decision.
They spend the rest of recess together. Eddie shows Steve just how smart Sam. That she can play fetch, that she can run across one arm to the next, over your shoulders without losing balance. That she can twitch her whiskers and it seems like she's laughing at the joke Eddie tells her. That she laughs at the joke Steve tells her! Steve learns that she's named after somebody called Samwise and it doesn't matter that he's a boy because Sam is brave just like Samwise and smart and cares just as much. That Sam is Sam and Eddie is Frodo and together they can take on the world. 
Steve asks if he can have a name too and Eddie calls him Legolas, doesn't tell him why. Doesn't say that Steve reminds him of the pretty elves described in the books Wayne reads out loud to Eddie. It doesn't matter, not really. 
Recess ends and they shuffle back to the school doors, both of them lagging behind the others.
Eddie steels himself, knows he has to bring his misfortune up so that he can own in, so that his new friend doesn't find out from someone else. 'I'm bad luck you know. Sally...she said it. now everyone wont talk to me. I wont be mad if you don't either. I've got Sam. We'll be oaky! So you can just go, I don't care!' He knows he's getting wound up, he can't stop himself. He just wants the bandaid ripped off so he can start feeling sad quicker, get it over with sooner.
Before he can register is, Steve is wrapped around Eddie in a flash of a hug, careful to keep his tummy away from squashing Sam. 
'Not bad luck to me. See you tomorrow Frodo' Steve whispers next to Eddie's ear and shuffles through the school door. 
Eddie is in a daze of joy and happiness, thoughts rumbling through his head but none of them sticking as he journey back into his class room. Pure happiness radiating out of his body, he takes Sam out of his pocket and holds her up to his face 'Sam you made my bad luck go away!' kissing her on the forehead as he hears his teacher scream 
'EDWARD MUNSON IS THAT A RAT?!'
-
So Wayne thought the already unpopular kid having a rat would make things worse. Turns out, he was wrong. Very, very wrong. He might have to start pocket inspections before school though.
--------------------------------------
also on ao3 if that's the preferred reading format for you
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theloveinc · 7 months
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deku x reader - succession!au, uhhhhh............... deku has a thought abt parenthood. it's bad.
(warning - short, talk of pregnancy but no actual gender of reader mentioned, mild talk of stds, drugs, sleeping around.... etc.?)
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-
“I want a baby,“ your boss, Deku, the near-CEO of media conglomerate AllMightco, says randomly one day, halfway through your lunch break (that he demanded you spend with him), and in the middle of your well-earned silence after a long conversation about whether Bakugo needs antidepressants.
You can only gape at his words, close but not too close to where he’s seated at one of the little armchairs he has in his office for any business casual meetings that require somewhere cozy to sit in spite of any fighting words that may be spit (and for fucking, you’re rather quite aware).
“Maybe it’d be… good for me. I love kids and, I think, I think,” he continues, stuttering like he always does when he’s nervous, excited, high, his tone questioning despite his making of it a statement. “it would give me a break from work?”
All you can do is laugh at the question, dryly, in disbelief, unsure of whether he’s being serious or just sharing some secret, wistful dream. You decide to tell him the truth either way.
“You can’t have a baby just because you want time off.”
He ignores you, though.
“I have all this money, and what for…?” he waves his shaky hands, “I could have a family. I’d change diapers and buy toys and take them to the beach.”
(Though just last week, he was fighting the board for more funds, screaming in that raspy voice he always develops after working through the night that he’d give up any and all vacation time for the foreseeable future if it meant keeping Toshinori Yagi in a position, any position, at the company for the next five years.)
You throw your laptop aside and stand up from your wilted salad and grapefruit soda that’s now sweating on the coffee table to walk around the edges of his desk. You throw a leg over one sharp corner, the exposed part of your ankle brushing his knee as you address him directly.
“And who would be having this child, Deku?“ you ask. “An ex? A surrogate? Ocha—“
He gives you those eyes, slouching down into himself, reaching out to pull your butt of his table and grip the back of your thighs to pull you in between his legs. You can feel the length of his overgrown green curls brushing your fingertips as you put your hands on his stiff shoulders to keep yourself from falling right into him.
“Me? Izuku,” you clarify, (though you always call him Deku), “me? What do you think? I’m just gonna say yes, no warning, no nothing? We’re not even dating, sweetie.”
—and just last week Kirishima offered to drive you to the clinic with him to tested, though you’re not going to bring that up now, even if you know Deku already knows you’re sleeping around. He is too.
He closes his eyes, resting the back of his head against the heavy, red leather of his office chair. The stubble on his face is more noticeable than ever; he even has a little knick under his chin from shaving, and you move to brush your thumb against it as he swallows thickly.
“I’m just tired,” he says, blinking his dark lashes into the bags under his eyes,
“I know, baby. But a child is not way to fix that” you say. The for anyone part, you just think.
Deku pouts. He sighs. Then his face relaxes and he sags, his hands falling off you to lay limp in his lap, the silence in the room stretching like salt water taffy from the pier.
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ganondoodle · 4 months
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im quite tired of talking about totk, like im sure you all know by know just how frustrated i am, but something i still strongly believe was the logical, and best thing to do in a sequel.. -
while botw was about you feeling lost in a strange world with neither you nor link knowing anything and both discovering it as you go, the theme of lonelyness and isolation, freeing the spirits of dead friends you need toremember again, in the end finally reuniting with one of the only friends still alive, after a 100 years
totk should have been about community, about working together with zelda at your side, as a companion, after having been seperated for so long, and seeing nothing of the time between titles, this should have been her travelling alongside you, after botw you'd WANT to spend time with her and get to know her more, her being the diplomat, the archtitect, the scientist, the translator of old texts, a historian trying to find out the truth about what her fathers kingdom was built on, to right old wrongs perhaps, for a better future- theres so much that she should have been, so much of her character was primed to go into this direction- and instead she is a pretty prize with no personality you get at the end like this is an 80s cartoon still
(this is disregarding the whole fact that ganondorf, AS WELL, should have been a giant factor in all this, in the history of it all, to explore his character and his actions, to have zelda research and find out about histroy clearly written by the victors- theres so much potential depth here that it dirves me crazy, botw was such a set up for more that was wasted, utterly wasted, for something i wouldnt even want to call paper thin bc even paper has more depth than anything in totk)
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lokiiied · 8 months
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the drinking game scene in rotk bc legolas is just naturally good at everything and also an elf it takes like twenty beers to get him even slightly buzzed and then he’s like, “i feel something…a slight tingle in my fingers. i think it is effecting me!” and éomer is just like #impressedandturnedon
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will never not be funny but also imagine:
after legolas “wins” the game and him and éomer lift gimli and relocate him éomer is just amazed at legolas’ elf alcohol tolerance and says,
“have you never been drunk before?” and legolas smiles and says,
“not from this.” to which éomer responds,
“care to have a few more then?” and legolas realises they haven’t really had a chance to get to know each other so he says sure. and about five beers later (ten for legolas, who now cannot stop chugging them) éomer, now very much buzzed himself, leans in a bit more than intended and asks,
“how are you feeling now?” and legolas smirks at him,
“trying to get me drunk, are we?” which makes éomer shift back a bit, trying to read him, and says sarcastically,
“i would never- [and then without meaning to say the rest out loud finishes his sentence]
-seduce a prince” to which legolas’ eyebrows raise and he presses,
“seduce?” and éomer panicks and tries to go back,
“not what i meant, i uhm, not thinking clearly.” but legolas, deciding to indulge, shifts slightly so their knees touch and leans in a bit.
“i think you’re thinking perfectly well.”
and so basically they kiss (no one cares everyone has like centimetres of personal space in there and are all drunk off their asses anyways) and it’s nice, but legolas realises in that moment a couple things:
1. he is maybe a little more drunk than he thought he was
2. it is making him (more) confident?
3. and slightly horny
4. he’s enjoying the attention and flirtation and éomer is very sweet and pretty…but he can’t help imagining éomer is someone else.
5. not just. anyone else.
“i’m sorry”, he gently places both hands on éomer’s shoulders and says,
“i have something i must do now.” and he leaves éomer confused but also he’s probably drunk enough to think think it was all just a weird dream.
suddenly legolas finds himself shoving through drunks and couples, away from the loud and crowded spaces and through hallways…he’s not sure where exactly he’s going, just that his heart is pounding and his feet will lead him to where he wants to be. who he wishes to see.
aragorn is on the balcony, looking out upon the ruined city. he doesn’t feel like celebrating. there’s still a battle to be fought, and although they won this one, it’s not looking very promising. he hears familiar footsteps approaching. light and quiet, but still, he can always sense when the elf is near him.
legolas slows when he sees him. he had so much courage when he was running through the corridors, but now that he was here…his heart is throbbing in his throat and his usual confidence no longer felt elevated. but he knew aragorn must be able to hear his heavy breath, so he swallowed and made his way to the man’s side.
“shouldn’t you be celebrating?” aragorn asks, without turning his head.
“shouldn’t you be with us?” legolas looks to him. taking in his greasy hair and his stubble and his jawline…
aragorn breaks his gaze from the city below, meeting legolas’ eyes. they looked a little glazed, and he could get lost in them if he allowed himself.
“been drinking with the dwarf?” he asks, corner of his mouth turning up into a small smile.
legolas had felt his buzz starting to fade on his run over - it had only lasted 15 minutes or so, and in another 15 it would probably be completely gone. but standing in front of aragorn now, he felt a sudden wave of lust and indulgence washing over him. maybe it was the alcohol…maybe something else. but he decided he wanted to push his luck.
“actually, he’s been passed out about half an hour or so. i beat him in a drinking game.” aragorn chuckled. (god, legolas wanted to kiss that grimy, scratchy, throat)
“is that so?” he could tell legolas was not entirely sober, and he wasn’t sure what direction this conversation was going to take - but he felt compelled to find out.
“mm. apparently it takes a lot of your kind of ale [legolas wasn’t sure what in middle earth had possessed him to reach out and brush his fingers along the front of aragorn’s robes] to take an effect on me.”
“and yet you seem affected, my friend.” aragorn could knew the small act was mindless…but there was also intention to it. he wished legolas would dare even further. for all that had happened, and was happening - he could use a distraction. but legolas wasn’t just a distraction. he was his weakness. and his strength. and the thought of his touch, his smile, his hooded eyes, his parted lips…it was taking everything in aragorn to keep his composure.
the thought of just telling him about his kiss with éomer, was tempting. but then there was a chance that might confuse aragorn. the kiss was nice, but it hadn’t really meant anything to legolas. maybe it wasn’t worth trying to explain all that now.
“i had a realisation.” he decided on that. it was true. and it was what brought him here, standing in front of aragorn now.
“a realisation?” aragorn could feel the world around them start to fade out. his focus only on the small amount of space between legolas and himself. he now had an idea where this might be going, he wanted to coax him on, but he also couldn’t be sure that his imagination wasn’t taking things out of context.
“yes.” legolas wasn’t sure if it was the fading buzz, or the being so close to aragorn, but it was almost like there was some sort of magic that had created a forcefield around the two of them, blocking out the rest of the world. if he was going to be brave enough kiss him, time was of the essence.
“and what is that?” aragorn wasn’t sure how much longer he could bear to be still with legolas looking at him like that. he wasn’t sure how had ever been able to restrain himself from leaning in to his touches and wrapping his arms around that waist and pulling him in so their hearts touched. how he had resisted tucking that glorious hair behind pointed ears and caressing that perfect jaw-
“i kissed éomer.” well, if he was going to confess his truth, he might as well confess all of it. besides, he wanted aragorn to know that
“it happened in the moment. and it was very nice - but it meant nothing, to me at least. but it did lead me to realise that it wasn’t him i had hoped to be kissing…that i…i was thinking of another.”
aragorn had not expected a confession of this sort, and it did surprise him for a moment, he felt a little sorry for éomer. and a little envious, of not being the first to feel legolas’ lips on his own. but he also knew that, to have legolas’ heart was that of hard earned pining, and of highest fortune. and their every moment together had lead to this one. and if he was being truthful, he could have lived in it forever. but fucks sake was it taking too long. he breathed in through his nose and gently placed one hand above legolas’ waist, slowly, carefully, closing the space between their bodies. the other tucking a strand of hair behind pointed ear.
“and might this ‘other’ have had you running through the halls in your courageous and intoxicated state, to confess this truth?” legolas’ breath hitched, he actually wasn’t sure when he had last taken a full breath- his head was cloudy, and he wasn’t sure if what was happening was real - or perhaps a fantasy that he would soon wake from. he had to be sure.
legolas’ soft, but cold hand found it’s way to cup the side of aragorn’s stubbled cheek. he felt some force of nature pulling them together, it was no use fighting. their lips were centimetres apart…
“he may have.” legolas’ eyes were hooded, and those few words to answer aragorn’s question moments ago (seconds? minutes?) were all he could manage to escape his lips before he found them meeting aragorn’s, finally. he breathed in sharp through his nose and let the air travel between them, before breaking away.
legolas’ hands were on the back of aragorn’s neck, contrasting the heat there. his own hands were now gently clutching the elf’s lower back. he was certain legolas’ smile then was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“i don’t think i have ever seen you smile with such ease” legolas teased, but truthfully it must’ve been the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.
“i don’t think it’s ever been so easy to smile.” and he meant it.
“what now?”
“what would you have me do with you?” oh. well, there was no one answer to that. and certainly not a very respectful, elvishly, one. he took aragorn’s hand, leading him away from the balcony and towards presumably whatever closest chamber or reasonably private place they could find.
“very unprincely things.”
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hauntedpearl · 5 months
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I'm such a big fan of immortal cas endgame but he's not an angel, not fully, not the way he was when he came to earth, the righteous man his charge, when the apocalypse was still the most terrifying thing in the world and there was hope of keeping it at bay. but he's not human either, because he can never be, because the body that is his — his — is still not really his. the soul he's grown can't fit in it quite right, not the way a human's is supposed to, anyway.
where does this leave him? somewhere between heaven and earth. with his clipped wings, and his crooked, cracked halo. he'll never quite be human, but he's human enough for his little family of misfits. and he's never going to be an all-powerful angel again, but he's angel enough to teach his son the things he needs to learn, to heal the hurt when he is able, to cross the boundary into heaven when he's called. it's an odd, uncomfortable, terrifying, wonderful place to be. and maybe it's not exactly what he wants, and maybe he longs for his wings and his grace and the power of heaven at the tips of his fingers sometimes, but it's enough, he thinks, considering. he's happy. isn't that kind of the whole point?
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