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#like it was tall enough for literal boats to be needed
ellecdc · 1 month
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Things You Can Say in a Swim Lesson & Also in Bed
meet cute/ugly - swim instructor!marauders + fem!reader
CW: learning to swim/fear of drowning, sexual innuendos, swearing (you know what to expect from me by now)
You were excited. Really, you were. 
Your best friend in the entire world was getting married, and she wanted to be married in the Maldives. So, that’s where you were going.
It didn’t matter if you might need to take out a small loan to afford the trip and time off, and it doesn’t matter that all of the events happening before the event were just as expensive.
This was your best friend, dammit! And you were happy for her.
There was only one problem.
You can’t swim.
But that was going to change today! Or...at least in the next few weeks starting today because you were officially taking swimming lessons.
You were not going to fly to the most beautiful beaches and islands in the world and be the fall risk on bridges, docks, and boats. And for fuck’s sake, you were going to swim with the dolphins whether it killed you (literally) or not.
So, you signed up to take swimming lessons. You felt ridiculous.
You felt even more ridiculous as you stood in the changeroom of a very posh country club that your best friend’s fiancé’s parents own, in a one-piece swimsuit you bought just for these lessons (the only swimsuit’s you owned her two pieces because their main use was for tanning).
You tried to find the most modest swimsuit you could, which was very difficult and still not quite as modest as you’d like because for fuck’s sake why won’t the bum cover your entire arse cheek!?
The people leaving behind you were all middle-aged to senior couples who obviously worked in ‘the business’ whatever the fuck that meant because they can clearly afford the membership fees this place obviously charges per month if their gold and crystal chandeliers in the bathroom stalls meant anything.
You tried to readjust your poor swimsuit one last time before grabbing your towel and making your way to the pool. You just hoped you didn’t flash your tits to the other children likely attending swimming lessons.
Except...you got to the pool and there was no one else there. 
Well, that’s not entirely true. There was one sexy looking lifeguard covered in various tattoos which stood out brilliantly against his fair skin. His black hair rivaled the ink of his tattoos and was long enough to be pulled back into a messy bun behind his head – though a few stray locks seemed determined to keep their place next to his sharp jawline.
You were jealous of strands of hair.
There was also another lifeguard on the other end of the pool putting away various life rings, flutter boards and lane dividers. He was just as striking as the first lifeguard for nearly opposite reasons. His skin was a deep tan colour, and he wasn’t built like a swimmer – rather, he was built quite like a body builder. His arms and torso were lined with hard defined muscle and his thighs...
For fuck’s sake, stop staring at the man’s thighs.
He had a mop of curly dark hair and a pair of glasses that seemed foggy with the humidity of the room; he seemed no less happy about his current surroundings because of it, however.
You awkwardly looked behind you into the changeroom to see if the rest of your class was coming out. Maybe you should text your friend? Ask her to confirm with her fiancé that you got the times right?
“Here for the swim lessons, love?” a deep, lilting voice startled you from your pondering.
You turned towards the voice and were accosted by the view of a third beautiful man.
Is it, like, a requirement to be hot as hell to work here!? 
The man had honey blonde curls and eyes to match that screamed trouble, but the kind of trouble you’d far too willingly find yourself immersed in. Unlike his tanned, spectacled friend, this man was built like a swimmer; he was all long limbs and long muscles, and unfairly tall. You forgot how to speak.
“I’m Remus, I’ll be the instructor tonight. What’s your name?” He asked you like he didn’t have it in front of him on his damp clipboard.
You cleared your throat and offered it to him, and he smiled at your shyness. The smile pulled at a scar that ran through the right side of his lip, and you noticed that he had a few more scattered across his face. They didn’t make him any less handsome, however. Damn him.
“Alright, Y/N. What has motivated you to learn to swim?”
You furrowed your brows at him and looked behind yourself again. “Shouldn’t we wait for the rest of the class?”
His smile faltered as his brows furrowed to match yours. “Class?”
“Private lessons, Dollface.” The tattooed man drawled as he made his way over to you.
“You’ve got the pool to yourself tonight.” He added with a wink.
“This is a private class.” Remus clarified.
“Jesus Christ.” You muttered. You were startled by a bark of a laugh from the tattooed man and immediately flushed to realize you’d said that out loud.
“How did you not know you booked a private class?” Remus asked with a bemused smile.
You sighed, face feeling like it was about to melt off from sheer embarrassment. “I didn’t book it. My uhm, my friend’s fiancé’s family owns this place and said he’d set it up for me. I thought it was going to be a group thing.”
You felt awfully foolish as the two men nodded. “What made you want to learn?” Remus asked again.
“Uhm, that same friend – her wedding is this spring, and it’s a destination wedding.” But the tattooed man started nodding before you’d even finished. 
“You wanna swim with the fishes, but not in the mobster way. Got it.” He said as he clapped his hands together.
“Sirius.” Remus gently chided the man. “That’s fair, well, you’ve given yourself a lot of time to learn. I figured we’d start by finding out how much you already know.”
You grimaced.
“Well, that’ll be easy, seeing as I know nothing.” 
“Nothing?” Remus asked.
“Nothing.” You confirmed.
Sirius and Remus shared a glance before turning back to you with matching smiles.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” 
“Prongs! We got a firstie!” The tattooed man – Sirius – shouted to the tanned man across the pool as he confidently made his way to the edge of the pool. You opted to skirt around the edge – widely.
The tanned man gasped (far more dramatically than you felt the situation called for) and immediately dropped everything that had been in his arms. 
“No.” He bellowed. “Can I help?!”
Great, now you were going to be inhaling pool water whilst three of the hottest men on earth watched – no big deal.
“That’s up to our swimmer.” Remus said as he looked towards you for an answer.
“I’d relax on the use of that title until you see me in the water.” You muttered.
Sirius barked another laugh, which made the corners of your mouth lift in comradery. He had a way of making you feel funnier than you likely were, just by enjoying your banter. 
“What do you think? Me and James here can be the rest of the class you thought you would be a part of.” He offered with a smirk.
“Class?” James asked, “I thought this was a private session.”
“It is.” Remus answered with a slight edge, clearly used to the other two men getting off topic. “She had the lessons booked for her – she didn’t realize.”
“Gotcha” James said with a clap of his hands. “Okay, I’m all caught up, lets swim!” and with that, he jumped sideways and made a large splash as he landed in the water.
“You’re welcome to use the stairs like a civilized person.” Remus said to you kindly as Sirius cannonballed himself into the pool behind him. Upon hearing the splash, Remus closed his eyes in exasperation. 
You took his advice and used the stairs, wading into the pool until the water hit around your waist.
“So, you’ve never been in a pool before?” Remus asked as he placed his clipboard on a flutter board and mindlessly sent it sailing to Sirius.
“No, not like this.”
“Okay. Do you know how to float?” He continued
You shook your head and looked down to the water.
“That’s alright. That’s perfect, that’s where we’ll start, alright?” He offered you, bending to try and catch your eyes. He was smiling kindly at you and his eyes oozed empathy.
“Here, Jamie and Sirius will demonstrate what we’ll do.”
Without a second though, James threw himself onto his back and brought his feet up, so he was floating on top of the water in a star-fished position. 
Sirius smiled down at him like he was the sun and placed his arm just below him to ‘support his weight’ – though you were well aware that part was just for show.
“Now, we’ll do it right here where you are now; you can touch the bottom, so even if you feel like you’re going to sink, you can just stand up.” Remus encouraged you.
Your heart fell at the ‘sink’ part.
“You also have three certified lifeguards here.” James offered sympathetically.
Yeah, three real Adonis’ here to watch me drown.
“Nothing will happen, love.” Sirius offered in the softest tone you’ve heard him speak since you met him, apparently your trepidation made itself known on your face.
“I’ll help you get into position, okay? Lean back... atta girl, just like that.” Remus coached you as he supported your back, and one of the other men grabbed your ankles to ease them up. The hands near your feet surprised you and you breathed in a gasp, which was mistaken for anxiety. 
“Hey, you’re alright, okay?” Remus said as he paused all movements, “I will not let anything happen to you.”
Jesus Christ, he was going to put you into cardiac arrest.
“Okay.” You offered instead of swearing at him and continued to lean back with his support.
Suddenly, you were suspended above the water as the hands (apparently, they were James’) let go of your ankles. Your instinct was to start kicking and tense up.
“No, you’re alright, keep your legs up and relax.” Sirius coached you from your other side.
Things you can say in a swim lesson and also in bed. 
“I’ve still got you.” Remus reminded you as you tried to do what you were told.
Your legs kept wanting to sink to the bottom, but you did your best to will them upward. 
“Try to take in a breath – the more air you have in your chest, the more buoyant you’ll be.” Remus told you.
You did as you were told, and your ears sunk just below the water.
“You can keep breathing, dollface.” Sirius said, and you felt your cheeks flush as you let out the breath you were apparently holding.
You listened to the sound of the water lapping against your head and the edge of the pool and timed seemed to slow.
This was actually quite nice – floating. You like floating, you decide. You’d like to do more of it; maybe this will be how you would spend your time at the beach in the Maldives and oh my god where is he going get back here you son of a bitch. 
Remus’ hand began to sneak away from you, and in your panic to correct yourself without his assistance, you overcompensated and ended up below the water line.
Gentle hands grabbed your forearms and hauled you above the surface again and you made terribly embarrassing choking and gasping sounds as you wrapped your arms and legs around the being like a newborn koala bear.
“Easy, easy. Hey, you’re okay! You almost had it! You did so well, look at you.” James said brightly as he pushed some of your wet hair away from your face with careful fingers, apparently unaffected by your attaching yourself to him.
Between the men, their flustering you, and the water up your nose – you decided you’ll just spend your vacation at the beach side bar.
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be-missed · 5 months
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Cool About It
Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader
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Summary: Jenna and Y/N are life-long best friends, but can Y/N still stand and hide her feelings after Jenna pulled a prank on her?
Warning/s: curse words, notify me if there are any.
A/N: Hi, hope this can be a good substitute for Chap 4 of Not Strong Enough. Enjoy! (clearing things out, this is not the Chapter 4 for Not Strong Enough, this is just a substitute story for you all, so that you have something to read while waiting for the Chapter 4 for Not Strong Enough.)
Masterlist
Nothing To Lose (Part 2) | Bad for Business (Part 3)
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"Come on it'll be fun, we can walk around the park and then ride the boat." Jenna explained while lying down in Y/N's bed and scrolling through her phone.
Y/N looked at her with a questioning look and said "Isn't that a bad idea? Because people might hover over us and people will just follow us and that is something that my anxiety can't handle."
"Noooo, pleaseee. This is a good idea, it's a Thursday afternoon, nobody or only least people will be at the park." Jenna answered, pouting.
"Jenna, stop." Y/N said with a smile on her face "You know it's hard for me when you do that."
Ans Jenna just smiled because she knows that Y/N is so close to going "Pleeaasseeee, pretty pleaseeee. I'll buy you an ice cream." Jenna proposed.
"Hmm, you think an ice cream can make me agree with your plan, huh?" Y/N answered.
"Yes, I know that you will agree to me sooner. Just imagine us binding after such a long time of not seeing each other. Also, may I remind you that I'll be leaving the country in December to film for Wednesday so this is a great time to spend with me before we get situated again in face time." Jenna is now showing Y/N a sad face.
Jenna's statement made Y/N wonder, that yes, it is true that Jenna's break will be over soon, meaning that she will be receiving a call or a message from Jenna during ungodly times which, she diligently answers, whether it may be a call or a message.
Y/N sighs and Jenna knows that y/N will now agree with her plan. But before Y/N agrees, Jenna started to jump in Y/N's bed and smiles at Y/N.
"You know me so fucking well Jenna Marie Ortega." Y/N said while scratching her brow "Yes, sure we'll go to the park."
And then Jenna went ot hug Y/N and delivers ton of kisses on Y/N's face.
Y/N thought, "Fucking hell, how can I disagree with this girl. If she tells me to jump on a tall something, I would even do some back flips. She wants me to run around New York City? I would do it with my tits out. She want me to marry her and be the mother of her children? I will for sure do that without a doubt. The last part, is a false hope. I know Jenna isn't into me since the first time that I met her."
"Okay, collect your things and get dressed, we're going to Central Park." Y/N said and taps Jenna's crown and smiled at her like a cute puppy.
Even if Jenna and Y/N are together, they will literally wear the headphones that they bought for each other, just to drown out their environment. But even the noise cancelling headphone can't stop them to communicate with each other. After knowing each other so well for years, they don't need to communicate verbally.
While walking, Y/N then got lost again with her own thoughts. She feels that Jenna knows that she likes her more than a best friend should have for quite some time now. That is why in the past few months, Y/N has been getting a lot more "busier" when it comes to Jenna. She tries so hard to detach herself from the girl. If Jenna won't be kind enough to be cruel about it and just reject her, then Y/N will try to be cool about it even though it's probably not even true.
Arriving at Central Park, the two girls started to walk nonchalantly, going where their feet take them, not caring about the people that took notice of them.
They sometime give snacks to the pigeons or the ducks that they passed by, try to pet the dog that was sitting beside their owner. Taking a look at thier surroundings, both of them realised that a lot from the park changed, the becnhes that were once there, the trees thatvwere cut out and displaced by another plant, and the rusts on the bench that they always pass by.
Y/N was walking not until Jenna stopped by the row boat rentals and Y/N just moved her head from side to side "Nuh uh, Jenna. We won't and we can't." Y/N said.
"But why? We used to ride the boats and just row around, pretending to be a part of a rowing team." Jenna stated pulling at Y/N's sleeve.
"Jen, that was before." Y/N reasoned.
Jenna looked sad "Do you not want to be seen with me? Is that it?"
That was the last thing that Y/N wants Jenna to think of because it is not true.
"No, absolutely not. I just think that..." Y/N said not knowing any reason on why not to ride the boat.
"See you have no reasons to not ride it. So please let's ride the boat." Jenna said, and with that they got a boat, just the two of them and started to row.
Many people are also in their own boat, talking, playing, laughing and admired their surroundings. Also, Y/N and Jenna's boat didn't get unnoticed by the people in the park or inside the boat. People were waving at them and calling Jenna's name. Jenna waved back or replied to them but her focus was still focused on you, not until you hear Jenna coughed.
Many boats surrounds you as this is where one of the good spots for a picture. It means that many people also surrounds you and can literally hear each other.
"Mhmm, Y/N, I don’t know where to start..." Jenna said with a smirk ok her face and Y/N didn't know what's going on, Jenna then continued "We have known each other for a lot of years, we have been with each other through our ups and downs and we are still here." Jenna then secretly took the ring from her pointer finger and present it in front of you.
Now. Now Y/N is so baffled with what is Jenna doing, people started to look at them and paid attention to what is happening inside their boat. Even the people who are in land started to stop and watch the scene unfolding in front of them.
"I have loved you ever since I met you and I want to love you 'till the day I die. I just want to ask if, will you marry me?" Jenna got up from her seat and started to kneel with her right knee.
Y/N's thoughts are all over. Why is Jenna fucking doing this? Is this her way to fucking play with her feelings? Is this all a joke to Jenna? She wants Jenna to be cruel about it and just reject her but not this way, Y/N will try her best to be cool about it even if it's not, but this stunt? Y/N didn't know if she can still see Jenna and not say some hurtful things towards the girl.
Everyone around them started to cheer and fished their phone out to capture this moment, because hell, Jenna Ortega is proposing. Flashing of lights where delivered from each phone that is hanging out, hollers and congratulations can be heard in different directions, claps can be heard everywhere and that triggered Y/N.
It was so loud around her, and why the fuck is Jenna proposing to her.
"Jenna I need to get out." Y/N said.
"What do you mean?" Jenna started to see the panic in Y/N's eyes.
"Fuck Jenna I need to get out of here" Y/N stated and started to row the boat in a faster pace that forced Jenna to take a seat.
As the boat started to get near the dock, Y/N didn't gave Jenna a time to talk and bolted away. Away from the girl, away from the people, and away from the world.
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Many hours has passed but Jenna can't still contact Y/N. Jenna even waited in front of Y/N's front door for hours but there were no signs of her best friend.
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A/N: Hoped this is good enough. Thoughts and comments are open, thanks for reading!
Nothing To Lose (part 2)
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milswrites · 1 month
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A thousand roses
~ Cassian X Fem!Reader
Summary: Every day you curse the books that gave you unrealistically high expectations of men. Sure you were going to be single forever until you meet Cassian. Adamant he wants to take you on a date, Cassian does his best to impress.
Warning: ⚠️ Reading this may give you unrealistically high expectations of men ⚠️
Actual warnings: Lots of sex talk and inferences to sex but no actual smut!
“And then he made her orgasm three times! Three! The last guy I was with didn’t even manage to squeeze one out of me!”
Upon finishing your latest read, you just couldn’t help but give a very detailed review of exactly what you thought about it to your co-worker. A packed cafe in Velaris during the middle of the day was probably not the most appropriate location to shout about your sex life, but you just had to share how the smut filled pages had left you more satisfied than any man had ever done.
Jadis snorted into the steaming hot tea she was drinking, liquid spilling everywhere, “I’m telling you girl, you just need to get out there, kiss a few frogs to find your prince. I don’t know how many more of your smut reviews I can take. It’s not natural to be this turned on at work.”
You hummed in response, fingers absentmindedly brushing over the pages of your book, “But that’s the problem. I’m too picky to go for a frog!” You blame the hundreds of books in your library at home for that, millions of perfect fictional men literally at your fingertips. “Real men just don’t do it for me anymore.”
This statement was confirmed as you miserably scanned your eyes over the customers in the cafe, none of the males present seeming to stick out to you meet any of your self-imposed standards. You only had yourself and your books to blame for your lack of a relationship.
“I’m just never going to find anyone! Forever reading in my house wishing I was at the mercy of one of my book boyfriends” you sighed, not wanting to seem downhearted but you just couldn’t help it. Velaris just so happened to be a haven for beautiful relationships, everywhere you turned you’d see interlocked hands, affectionate hugs and the occasional heated exchange of kisses. You could only wish that one day you’d be in the same boat as them, overwhelmingly in love with someone who you could call your own. There’s a reason the night court was so affectionately called the court of dreams.
Jadis reeled in your wandering mind, “Well darling, I hope you enjoy forever fantasising about sex rather than having it. I for one can’t wait to take Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome for a spin.”
She was referring to the moderately attractive male who had asked her out the other day during the preparation of his morning coffee. In your opinion, it wasn’t the most romantic scene. Though Jadis hadn’t been on a date in a long while and so in her own words she was going to implode if she didn’t get a good fuck in soon. So who were you to judge.
The bell above the cafe door twinkled, ending the conversation about your book and pathetic love life. Your eyes travelled to the cafe entrance and stopped when they landed on the biggest male you had ever seen. The Illyrian walked through the door, having to duck his head and draw his wings in to fit through the much smaller frame. His presence in the cafe was enough for you to lift your head from where it was sat in your palm, interest peaked.
There was no doubt that this Illyrian was one of the most attractive males you have ever seen. His long brown hair was pulled back messily into a bun. You didn’t normally like the rough, slightly barbarian-esque type, typically preferring your males to be more clean-cut. It was clear this man didn’t look like most males. No, he looked as if he had just stepped out of one of your deliciously sinful smut books.
He began to approach the counter, his body taking up so much space that he bumped into tables, displacing the drinks of customers who were grasping at the mugs and glasses to try and prevent them from spilling at the earthquake caused by this ginormous man. He apologised to each of them as he moved but kept his eyes locked ahead. Locked on you.
Your friend, noticing the effect this man had on you, spun around and immediately started acting as if she was busy with another job, leaving you to serve him in your hypnotised state.
“Just a coffee please love” he said, pulling you from your stupor as he finally came to a stop at the counter. Mother, even his voice was hot. It was resonant and also bore the twinge of gruffness which left goosebumps on your arms in its wake. There was no doubt everything about this man oozed pure sex appeal. You were too mesmerised to move, brain not registering that he had asked you to do your job. Instead, like a besotted fool, you stayed stood behind your counter, feet rooted to the ground.
“You alright there gorgeous?” The unbelievably good looking male asked, roguishly handsome smile growing on his face, clearly aware of the effect he has on you. This spurred you to move, the stacked cups surrounding you rattling at your sudden movement. “Coffee! Right. Yes, of course!” Managing to squeak a few words out, you turned around to busy yourself with making the coffee, hatred in your eyes as you glared at Jadis who left you stranded making coffee for this very handsome man who’s looks alone were doing very strange things to you and making you think very indecent things. Jadis, undeterred by your glare, wiggled her eyebrows at you, grin stretched across her face, beaming from ear to ear.
With shaky hands, you finish up with making his coffee and without turning around, afraid you’d accidentally start professing your undying love to him if you did, you ask, “any sugar?”
His honey coated voice replies, “No thanks, I’ve already got my eye on something sweeter.” You ignored the sight of your friend’s head snapping speedily to look at you in glee. Heat burning across your cheeks, you turn back to face him, avoiding the man’s eyes.
Hands still shaking, you place the coffee in front of him and wait for him to pay. The sooner he leaves the sooner you can gossip with your Jadis about him and moan about your inability to act normal in front of incredibly attractive men. He pulls out the money from his pocket and places it on the counter, pushing it towards you, but before you can take it from him he drags it back in his direction, finger holding it in place. “How about you and I go out together sometime sweetheart? You’re obviously desperate to.”
At this, the lovesick fog that had been swimming in front of your eyes since this man had entered the cafe dissipated. Rose-tinted glasses off you noticed that the smile that adorned his face was more of a cocky smirk. His confidence and tone of voice told you that he asks this question a lot and most likely always gets the answer he desires. It was clear this man wasn’t the personification of one of your book males come to life. He was just another playboy.
Not wanting to just be another name on the list for this man, you slid the money out from under his hand, sickly sarcastic smile on your face, and said, “I think I’ll pass thanks sweetheart.”
The males smirk promptly fell from his face in shock, clearly not expecting, nor used to rejection. He sputtered out a few buts and whats, flirty demeanour forgotten, a slightly pathetic butt-hurt one taking its place. This was definitely a man not used to losing.
“Have a nice day!” You enthusiastically, and very satirically, finished this interaction before walking away to busy yourself with clearing some now empty tables in the cafe. Wings hung low in defeat, the man at the counter left the cafe, bell ringing as he exited. This surprised you, having expected him to put up a little more of a fight, but nonetheless you were glad that it was over with. Cursing yourself for falling for just another pretty face, standards forgotten.
“What?!” Your friend screamed running over to you, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you vigorously as if you had lost all senses. Unafraid of scaring off the customers who still sat in the cafe, some clearly entertained by the whole event which had transpired. “Do you know who that was? Oh Y/N he was totally into you! Why did you say no?”
“Because he was looking at me as if I was a piece of meat! And no, I have no idea who he was and unlike you I don’t go jumping on every stranger who asks me out at work” You brushed Jadis off of you and started taking the dirty glasses back behind the counter to be washed, your friend hot on your heels not wanting to finish this conversation just yet.
“That was Cassian!” She continued, expression as if it should have been obvious to you who the Illyrian male was. “Good for him” you replied, no idea why it should matter to you who he was, clearly if Jadis and the few interested by standers in the cafe knew who he was he had quite the reputation in Velaris. Surely that mustn’t be a good thing.
“Cassian? Lord of bloodshed? General and Commander of the Night Court’s army?” She continued, seriously not convinced you could have absolutely no idea about him.
You snorted, “I’m sorry, no one actually has that many titles unless they’re from a book… or if they just have a very large ego”.
Jadis groaned, hands fisting her hair in exasperation, “Y/N he’s like totally hot and totally loaded and super important! And he was so checking you out!” You could tell all this was upsetting your friend who was most definitely hoping you were about to get some much needed action, but all you could do was shrug, “I’m sorry babe but I’m a romantic, it’s going to take more than pet names and a stupidly attractive face to gain my interest.”
Giving up, Jadis dropped her hands from her head in acceptance, disappointment clear on her face, “I know, but don’t come running back to me to complain how unsatisfied you are when that Illyrian god was basically throwing himself at you.”
After the topic of the male was dropped, your day continued as normal, whilst Jadis had promised not to bring it up again but you couldn’t help but notice the angry glances your friend kept throwing your way during the last few hours of your shift, distressed that you had let a man go who had seemed perfectly acceptable in her opinion.
At the end of your shift, in an attempt to get her to understand where you were coming from, you slid your book towards her, “Here. Read it and then maybe you’ll understand what I mean.” She picked it up, looking at the cover eyes bulging at the title, “Bound in chains? Really?”
“Trust me, sit down with a large glass of wine and read it. You’re going to love it!”
With that the two of you locked up the cafe, book secure in Jadis’s bag. You said your goodbyes at the door and headed your seperate ways, all thoughts of the handsome man from earlier in the day long gone. Upon your arrival at home, you wandered to your favourite room in the house, your library, wanting to select a new read to cosy up with for the evening.
Approaching your shelf that you reserved exclusively for books you had bought but had yet to read, you pulled one out by its spine, eyes glancing over the cover. The cover which bore the image of a large, well-muscled man, whose long brown hair flowed freely over his shoulders. Eyes blowing wide and blush returning to your cheeks you shoved the book back onto the shelf. Thoughts drifting back to the Illyrian with the same looks who had been flirting with you earlier. Maybe you’d be better off reading a safe fantasy book tonight. Or better yet a book that had no man in at all, although that would be a rare find in your library.
~~~~~
“I am a changed women”
Returning to work the next day, you were greeted by Jadis smiling, bouncing up and down on her feet, and holding your book in her hands.
“I take it you liked it then?”
“Liked it?”Jadis squealed, “it was like reading pure porn. I loved it”
You laughed along side her, of course Jadis would read an entire book and focus on the porn rather than the actual plot of it.
“Truly I did,” she continued, rushing about and gathering her things, “and I would love to stay behind now my shift has finished to talk about it but I have to go home and get ready for Mr Tall, Dark and Handsome, maybe tonight I can try out some of those moves I read about!” She winked at you, handing over your book before rushing out of the cafe with an excitable “Wish me luck!”
Work had been very quiet today, allowing you time to sit and read your newest book. After finishing a simple fantasy last night you were left unsatisfied by the lack of enjoyment it provided when it came to the physical romance. Needing more, you had selected one of the filthiest books you could find.
Engrossed in the pages, plot thickening by the minute, you were absorbed into the book. Only to be broken from its spell when the familiar chime rang of the bell rang out, signalling a customer had arrived. Rushing to finish the page before they reached the counter, your eyes flew over the words before you finally reached the end of the page. Enabling you to look up from behind your book only to see Cassian standing before you, lips formed into a cautious smile. As if unsure of how you’d react to his presence after yesterday.
“Coffee?” You ask, eyebrows raised, placing your book down before standing up from the stool you were sat on behind the counter.
“Please if you don’t mind, but don’t let me stop you from finishing ‘Fated Frenzy’… cauldron do women really read books like this?” Cassian exclaimed, picking up your book and flicking through the pages, holding it out of reach so you couldn’t snatch it back.
Clenching your fists together as you glared at him you replied, “well if only men knew how to actually please a woman then we wouldn’t have to.”
“Maybe you just haven’t found the right man then,” Cassian mumbled, focus still on the book that was dwarfed in his large hands. He must have reached a particularly risqué part as his eyes widened slightly, tongue peaking out from between his lips. Now as he spoke, reading from your book, he wore a large grin, “I mean not every man has a cock that looks as if it was sculpted by the gods themselves.”
You scowled, now managing to take hold of the book grasped in one of his large hands and snatched it back. “I’ve certainly never met a man like that” you replied as you slammed your book back onto the counter and moved off to make his coffee so he could leave you to read in peace.
“Don’t want to check sweetheart?” He teased from behind your back, clearly trying to get you as flustered as he had managed to yesterday. Pleased at your banter. Not wanting to give him what he wants, and definitely not wanting to turn around to see his stupidly handsome smirking face looking back at you, you replied from over your shoulder while you were busy finishing his drink, “it doesn’t take a fool to know the spymaster has a larger wingspan. Now his I’d like to see.”
You heard the catch of his breath, causing him to choke on air at what you had said, clearly not expecting your confident retort, and not saying anything at the discovery you do indeed know who he is all thanks to Jadis. Cheeks stretching into a grin of your own at his embarrassment, you turn and place his drink in front of him. Unlike yesterday, Cassian didn’t even attempt to reach for his money before asking, “Please, let me take you out somewhere nice”.
Your smile dropped, head shaking slowly, “What classes as nice in your books? Other than a quick fuck behind the back of the building.” This comment made Cassian’s eyebrows knit together, not happy with the impression you had of him. “What will it take for you to understand I’m serious? That I want to take you on a date to get to know you.” He sounded earnest you’d give him that.
“I don’t know ok! I just know that I’m not going to say yes to a man I don’t even know who asked me out while I was just doing my job.”
He stretched out his hand, trying to meet yours which was resting on the counter but you pulled away before any contact could be made. “I want to get to know you, if you’ll let me. Likes, dislikes, good bits, bad bits, everything.”
“I- I don’t know Cassian, I just don’t think this is going to work.”
“What will it take?” He begged, eyes desperate.
“For you to be like one of them” you said, nodding your head towards your book.
“An overly sexual alpha male?” He said, confused as to what you were actually referring to. This made a small laugh escape from your lips, “No that’s just a bonus. I’m sorry Cassian, I just dream about being swept of my feet by a man that acts like one of them. Romantic, sweet, not asking out every other woman they see.”
“I can be romantic” Cassian said defensively, “I can be incredibly romantic”
Wanting to get this interaction over with you decided just to agree with him. “I’m sure you can Cassian, no doubt there’s a very lucky woman waiting for you somewhere”.
You weren’t sure it was possible for his brows to furrow any more than they already were, “I’ll prove it to you. Prove that I’m all in on this. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on and I’m not going to let you go that easily.” Determined look plastered on his face Cassian grabbed his coffee and walked towards the door pulling the it open, bell chiming, and before he stepped outside he called back to you, “I’ll see you soon gorgeous, you better be ready for me” and with that Cassian left, the cafe silent apart from the bell still ringing, the sound helping you realise that Cassian was real and that interaction did actually happen.
It was only five minutes later, when your wild thoughts were tamed by another customer entering did you realise that Cassian never even paid for his drink.
~~~~~
“Y/N!” Cassian shouted bustling through the tables to reach you as he entered your work once more. Shock flooded your system, he had learnt your name from when you last spoke to him two days ago. After causing a ruckus, and spilling many drinks onto poor unsuspecting customers laps, he reached the counter where you were stood waiting for him.
“What are you-“ you started angrily, worried he would scare away valued customers. Though you were interrupted by Cassian whose arm, which was hiding behind his back, shot out revealing the largest bouquet of flowers you’ve ever seen.
He held them out expectantly, waiting for you to take them but your suprise had you rooted to the spot. Familiar with your freezing by now, Cassian impatiently shook the bouquet in your face, movement bringing your thoughts back to the present. Still not taking them, not quite believing something so beautiful could be gifted to you, you spoke, “They’re lovely Cassian but you just cut right in front of Matilda who was here first!” Cassian’s features faltered as he dropped the bouquet in disappointment.
Matilda , the lovely little old fae who frequented your cafe, leaned around Cassian’s broad figure so she could see you, “it’s alright Y/N! Take the damn flowers and talk to the man!”
Cassian thanked the older women and stuck out the flowers once more. “For you,” he said encouragingly, willing you to accept the gift, “I told you I’d prove myself to you. I’m here for a date.” By this point you had been stood there for a ridiculous time causing your Jadis to stretch her arm past you and grab the flowers smirking as she says, “Thank you Cassian, they’re beautiful, Y/N loves them. Lillies are her favourite, how did you know?” Winking as she walked off with the bouquet it was clear Cassian has been getting some insider information from the mouth of your best friend.
The Illyrian nodded his head at your friend gratefully and you finally rediscovered the ability to speak, “Thank you, but if you’re here for a date I’m sorry I can’t help you, this is my work Cas, I have to do my job.”
“Pfft bit presumptuous I’m here for a date with you”
At that your face fell slightly before you quickly returned you expression to normal, not wanting Cassian to know his words had an effect on you. Surely he wouldn’t bring you flowers just to have a date with another woman in your workplace. Was this some twisted way to try and make you jealous?
Flirty expression on his face Cassian adjusted where he was stood and flung his arm around Matilda who began to blush, “Have to find out everything I can about you from my beautiful date Matilda here! One coffee for me and one of whatever my darling date would like” he said, making Matilda giggle before asking for her usual. Relief flooding you body, your lips twitched and you began to make their order, “my, my, Matilda. I have to say I expected better in your taste of men”.
“Woah woah no need to tell her,” Cassian joked, “don’t want this hot commodity to leave me for something better” he finished, winking at Morgana who looked as happy as if it was Solstice morning. Grabbing the finished drinks you had placed before him, he headed to a table, coming back once the drinks were down to walk Matilda to her chair, but not before placing his money on the counter, saying, “Moneys there for the other day by the way, I’ll speak to you later.”
Cassian must have sat talking with Matilda for hours, watched closely by you from the corner of your eye as you worked, customer after customer coming and going. Finally when the rush had died down and your shift was coming to an end, the two who had been huddled together gossiping over more than a few coffees, hot chocolates and cakes stood to take their leave. Or more accurately, Matilda was taking her leave. Cassian had said his goodbyes bending down to give Matilda a big hug and then scooped their empty plates and cups into his arms before walking towards you.
There wasn’t enough time for him to place the items down on the counter before you watched as Matilda lay a firm smack to his backside before giggling, “I’ll see you later hot stuff.” Lucky not to break any cups, Cassian jumped, flying forwards and dropping them all onto the counter before you, eyes terrified.
You couldn’t help but chuckle, placing the cups the right way up before checking on the male, “you alright there hot stuff?”
“Oh don’t even start. That woman’s got one strong slap” he whined, hand rubbing his ass to relieve some of the pain.
“Don’t act like that’s not how all your dates end” you goaded, cheeks twinging at the effort to stop yourself from bursting out laughing.
“Trust me gorgeous, if any of my actual dates ended like that I wouldn’t be complaining” he winked at you, all the while pulling a napkin out of its holder to help you clean his mess from the counter.
As you watched him clean, you couldn’t help but admire the way his brows slightly furrow when he’s concentration, noting the way his focused mouth tilts to once side, tongue slightly poking from between his lips. He was handsome there was no denying it.
“Will you walk me home?” You blurted, snapping your mouth shut and internally cursing yourself for asking such a ridiculous thing, digging yourself into an even deeper hole you continued, “it’s only that the flowers you got me are so big… and I have all my other things…and…uh..”
“Y/N, I would love to walk you home”
“Great! I’ll just um, go and grab my stuff”
You turned, heading towards the cloakroom, only to be met by Jadis, bag and bouquet in hand. She shoved them eagerly into your arms squealing, “go get him girl!” Hands pressed against your back, she forced you to move forwards until you were in front of Cassian, “don’t have too much fun you two” she said now guiding you both from the cafe, tripping and stumbling over each others feet as Jadis’s excitement led to some very firm shoving.
~~~~~
Once outside in one piece, no thanks to Jadis, Cassian plucked the flowers from your arms allowing you to swing the strap of your book-filled bag over your shoulders. Timidness now overcame you, what were you supposed to say to him now? Had asking him to walk you home seemed too desperate?
“So what are you reading now? Not another book about a poor sexually frustrated female?” He asked, breaking your panicked thoughts as he walked side by side with you.
“No sex this time,” you giggled lightly, “this one’s about a man who sacrificed his kingdom for his true love”
“You really like that stuff huh?” Cassian spoke softly to you, he sounded like he was truly interested in finding out exactly how your brain worked, “that true love and romantic gestures shit?”
“It’s not shit” you defended, “sometimes it helps me not feel so alone. Reading about all these grand gestures and things people do for the ones they love.”
Cassian cleared his throat awkardly, his hand which was not holding the flowers moving up to scratch at his head, “and you’re into that? Romantic gestures?”
“It’s hard not to be. Pretty sure it’s every girls dream to be swept of their feet and fall as deeply as characters do in books.” Cassian was nodding along to what you were saying but his eyes showed he was lost in thought. It was your turn to draw him from his head, “you never done anything romantic for your ladies Cas?”
His name on your lips seemed to work, the clouds of thought in his eyes fading as he turned his gaze from the road ahead to you, “I guess I’ve normally always thought that just me is enough”. He didn’t say this to be cocky or narcissistic, you could tell. You didn’t mean to make him feel shame over the situation, you had been genuinely curious. Perhaps a little jealous at the thought of Cassian putting in just as much work into chasing other women as he has been with you.
“That’s ok. I think romance is more reserved for the pages of books these days than in actual reality”
Not a fan of where this conversation had turned to Cassian did his best to lift the mood, “I’m not surprised you think that if all your books were like that one I caught you reading. Heck where are you meant to find a overprotective god of war with who hates everyone but the lowly daughter of an inventor and they go on to have insane - and totally not physically possible by the way- sex!”
You scrunched your face, “Cassian there’s no way you were able to get all that from one page…Oh cauldron! You read the book! You read Fatal Frenzy!”
As if only now realising what he said to you, a flustered Cassian tried to provide you with lame excuses as to how he knew that information until it was clear you weren’t going to let it go. After about five minutes of listening to your constant prodding, poking and teasing as you walked, Cassian caved, “Fine! Fine, I read it ok. I was curious as to how he was going to put his god level cock to use!”
By this point you were full on cackling, having to stop your walking to put a hand on your stomach at the thought of this mountain of a man sitting down to read a devilishly smutty book. “I have to say”, you gasped out in-between giggles, “I’m surprised you can even read”.
Cassian acted out the most overdramatic reaction to your words, his hands flew to his heart, bouquet still in his grasp, and released loud, exaggerated noises of pain and cries of just how horrible you were. People had began to stop in the street, wondering why the Lord of Bloodshed was acting as though he had just been shot. Rolling your eyes and wanting the attention off the two of you, you elbowed his side prompting him to stop, “careful you’ll crush my flowers if you die any wilder.”
Charming grin of his face, Cassian looked down at you, “we wouldn’t want that would we? Not when a super hot guy went through the effort of finding out your favourite flowers for you.”
“You’re crazy” you said in dismissal, continuing to walk in the direction of your home.
“Your kind of crazy?” A hopeful tone in Cassian’s voice.
“I haven’t quite decided yet” you said honestly. You couldn’t deny that Cassian was already proving himself to you more than any man has. No one had ever bought you flowers before and no male had ever attempted to read a book you were reading for your attention.
“Well you just let me know when you do” Even the way Cassian looked at you made you melt.
“You’ll be the first” gentle smile on your face. Nerves building in you once more as you thought about what going further with the man next you you would entail.
Content to let you walk lost in your thoughts, Cassian didn’t try to force any conversation. A natural peace fell between the two of you, the silence not an awkward one. It wasn’t until you neared the outside of your house that you broke the silence, “Well, this is me”.
Nodding Cassian passed you the bouquet. For the first time you looked at the flowers and really admired them, admired the fact this man had gone out his way to go to your friend and make sure he got your favourite ones.
“Thank you Cassian,” you said, laying a kiss onto his stubbled cheek, “they’re beautiful.”
Cassian’s usual confidence gone, it was his turn to blush. Shyly, he tried his luck again, “so about that date?”
You walked over to your door, pulling out your key, turning back to Cassian, twinkle in your eyes, you said, “ask me again tomorrow”.
“That wasn’t a no!” He said, confidence rushing back into him. As you entered your house and peaked through the window behind your curtains you couldn’t help but watch Cassian, beam on his face, as he jumped on the spot. A small celebration that you hadn’t fully rejected him once more. A matching grin on your face as you observed him, you stayed watching until he took off from the ground, large angelic wings spread, wondering what in Prythian was this man doing to you and what sinful things you’d like to do with those wings.
~~~~~
You were sorely disappointed over the course of the next week. Since that evening Cassian had walked you home to the cafe he had not returned. Jadis tried to keep your thoughts positive, saying he was probably away on important Night Court business, being the General of its army and all. After being the one to speak to Cassian about you she was adamant that he was undoubtedly in love with you and he wouldn’t leave you hanging.
It was hard though, when the eighth day of his absence rolled round, not to think that he had found someone more interesting to pursue. Someone who didn’t make him work as hard for their affections. Your mood was so glum that you didn’t even have the heart to read. Why read about love when you’re not sure you believe in it anymore?
You had spent days wondering what you had done wrong. Had you been too forward? Or did he find your obsession with males that weren’t real a little too bizarre? You did your best not to dwell on it but it was so hard not to, the flowers you had placed in a vase on the side table in your library, right next to your reading chair, still flourished beautifully, a constant reminder of the man who crashed into your life only to leave it in shambles.
So here you were, sat on the stool in the cafe, your thoughts being the only thing to keep you busy due to your sudden lack of interest in reading. It had been another quiet day, but it wasn’t long now until Jadis would arrive, you had opened the cafe for her after she asked for a favour so she could spend the night at Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome’s, who’s name you had learnt was Arthur. Happy that even if your love life was crumbling, at least Jadis’s was blooming. However, you were thankful you weren’t actually supposed to be working today, not sure if you could survive another shift listening to her unintentionally boast about how perfect Arthur was and how good he is at sex.
So you sat there and waited for her arrival, desperate to go home and crawl into your bed. Without your typical reading to do, you found yourself spending most of your free time sleeping, wasting away the hours you didn’t know what to do with yourself in.
It was finally an hour after the time she had promised to be in for, when Jadis flew into the cafe, bell ringing aggressively at her sudden entrance. Running to where you were at the counter, coat and bags in hand, she was profusely apologising over and over for her tardiness.
“You must have had a good night with Mr Handsome” you teased, trying not to let your slight annoyance at you still being here show. Confusion flashed across her face before she quickly corrected it in realisation, “Oh yeah! Totally great sex, every woman’s dream. Hugeeee dick.”
Opening your mouth, ready to ask her about her odd behaviour, she pulled you from your stool before you could talk. Dragging you out from behind the work area, saying “Come on Y/N it’s your day off, don’t want to be here any longer than you have to be!”
Now you defiantly knew something was off, Jadis typically keeping you an hour in-between shifts to catch you up on everything that has happened since the day before. “Jadis, what’s going on?” You asked cautiously, had something happened between her and Arthur? No. Jadis would definitely tell you if that was the case, or maybe she just didn’t want to make you any more depressed than you already were. Still in that strange tone of voice, Jadis kept pushing you to leave, “Nothings wrong! I’m fine. Now leave, you still have the whole day to do something, go read one of your smut books!”
This confirmed she was definitely hiding something, knowing that you haven’t picked up a book for the past week after listening to your incessant complaining about the matter. If you weren’t so desperate to leave and go rot in bed for the rest of the day you would have stayed and forced whatever it is she was hiding out of her. You decided that was tomorrow’s job, when you had a nice six hour shift together where she couldn’t avoid your pestering.
Shrugging on your coat and promising to yourself you’d find out what she was dodging tomorrow, you left the cafe. Turning your head around to look back through the windows only to be met with Jadis and her crazed eyes watching, as if making sure you were walking in the direction of your house. Unsettled, you followed the streets leading home, praying to the Mother that your friend was alright and you weren’t about to have to kill a man for upsetting her.
Finally, you arrived at your door, turning the key in the lock you were startled to discover the door was already unlocked. You were exhausted when you left that morning but you could have sworn you weren’t so tired that you’d risk your property and your safety like that.
Fear now coursing through your veins, you quietly pushed your door open, scared you would alert anyone in your house that you were there and something bad would ensue. The fae lights in your hallway were all lit, softly casting a warm glow over your home. You stepped inside, and instead of your foot meeting the usual plush of your carpet it was met with a slight crunch.
Casting your eyes to the ground you gasped. There were hundreds of rose petals scattered across your floor, leading towards each of your rooms. Following the trail, you made it through to the entrance of your living room, if your jaw dropped any lower you were sure it’d hit the floor.
The entire room looked as if it had been covered in a red blanket, a sea of roses covering the entirety of your room to the point where you couldn’t actually see anything that wasn’t a deep shade of red.
By this point your heart was pounding in your chest and you were sure you could feel your eyes watering, the hundreds of roses placed around you getting blurrier and blurrier. But there was no sign of the man you were sure had placed them.
Turning around you sped into each of your rooms, wanting nothing more than to find Cassian and throw your arms around him. Each room the same as the last, filled to the brim with the most beautiful roses. Lillies may once have been your favourite flowers but you think the kind-hearted man, who had wormed his way into your heart, may have just changed your mind. Roses were perfect.
Still no Illyrian insight you flung open the door to your library. Room decorated just as over the top as the others. And there in the centre of it all, sat waiting for you to return home, is Cassian. He stood quickly, treading on some of the flowers placed by his feet.
“How?” You asked, voice cracking as you tried to hold the tears at bay.
“It wasn’t easy, Jadis let me in.” Cassian said lightheartedly from where he stood across the room, too far from you for your liking, “I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long. I wanted to do this the day after we last spoke but I guess I didn’t actually think about the logistics of getting thousands of roses delivered.”
You stayed silent, heart overwhelmingly filled with love for the man before you, the man who had spent the past week getting a thousand roses just to ask you on a date. Taking your silence for something bad, Cassian began to ramble, “My brother Azriel - the spymaster - he helped too…I wanted to make sure it’d be done in time. It’s a mess I get it, I’m sorry, I’ll clear it all out for you I just-“
You cut him off, tears now flowing freely down your red hot cheeks, hands trembling, “it’s perfect Cassian. Nobody…nobody has ever done anything like this for me” At the sign of your tears Cassian made to make his way towards you but was stopped by the fact he just didn’t know where to place his foot without ruining all his hard work.
“Clearly I didn’t think this through very well” he mumbled, arms out to keep him balanced and preventing him from falling. Not wanting to spend a minute more away from him after having to suffer through a whole week, you ran, roses be damned right into his arms. Throwing yourself at his muscled body as he caught you, pulling you close to his chest in midair.
“You’re crazy!” you exclaimed, head tucked into his neck as you rested it on his shoulder.
Cassian placed you down gently, arms still wrapped tightly around your waist but he wanted to look into your eyes for this, “your kind of crazy?” His eyes held that same hopeful desperation that they had when he last asked you out.
“Hell yeah” and with that you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and connected his lips to yours.
The kiss was like nothing you had ever read before in one of your books. It was everything and more. A fire ignited within you, burning hotter and hotter and you just kept needing more. Cassian the fuel to your fire and you were sure that as long as you had him with you it was a flame that would never die out.
It was a messy clash of teeth and tongues, both of you uncaring of how sloppily and uncoordinated were kissing. All you knew was you needed each other like the pages of a book needed ink. You kissed and you kissed, hands wandering until you weren’t sure which parts belonged to Cassian and which to yourself.
The need to breathe forgotten, you continued. Hands running over his back which was rippled in muscles before reaching around his neck, holding onto him tightly as he picked you up once more.
It was only when the need for air was so overwhelming that you had no other option to pull away that you did. Heads pressed together, lips still slightly touching, a trail of saliva linking the two of you together. Cassian continued to hold you in his arms as if you were nothing but a feather, catching his breath he finally began to speak, “So about that date then?”
You giggled, pulling him even closer to you by his neck and laying a soft peck on his lips before drawing away to give your answer, Cassian’s mouth chasing after yours, “If this is how you ask me, I can’t wait to see what you have planned for our first date. Hopefully you don’t ignore me for a month whilst you prepare.”
Barking out a laugh Cassian placed you on the floor of roses, holding your hands to ensure you didn’t stumble. He looked around the room, proud smile adorning his face, he first took in the roses which he had took so long in prepping, screaming at Azriel when he hadn’t placed them down as he had pictured in his head. His gaze then swept your shelves, hundreds of books upon them.
“Ever read about this in one of your books?”
“Nope this is definitely a first”
His eyes landed on the book resting on your table, right next to the vase full of lilies he had originally given you, title in gold lettering along the front of the cover. Fated Frenzy. The book he had read because of you. You laughed as you spotted what he was staring at, his eyes travelling back to you, running up your body with hunger before finally settling on your eyes.
“You into roleplay gorgeous?”
With those words he smashed his lips back onto yours. The promise of an exciting night ahead.
Here, standing in your library entwined with the Illyrian you decided all those characters you have read about were lacking in one thing you never even knew you needed.
They weren’t Cassian.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes: You have no idea how much I wanted to finish this fic with “And so Cassian did” lol
Happy Valentines <3
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short-honey-badger · 2 months
Text
Peppermint Tea 28 - Lavender 9
Thank you to the lovely @headcaasefiction for helping me out!
So. This will probably be my last chapter for a hot minute. I've not been able to work on my stuff how I like to lately. So I have unfortunately fallen behind, and I would really love to do my best with the last half of Peppermint Tea. However, I have made this pretty long as an apology. ❤️❤️
Its been a wild ride so far! I hope you enjoy!
Warnings! Not many? Pregnancy stuff is mentioned. We finally get a couple of confessions, but that doesn't mean it turns out good. Angst happens.
Masterlist
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You watch in awe, eyes large and sparkling in fascination as your brother parries his opponent, knocking their arm away with a swat of his hand. His body turned to dust and dropped low to avoid the blow to the chest that would have surely happened. He comes back up with a vicious swing, his knuckles smashing into the other boy's jaw and busting their lips. Blood drips down their chin as they wheel back, lips pulling back to show white teeth stained red.
Your brother goes back in, sending another two blows to the boy who had shoved you to the ground and called you some mean name that you can't even remember now. He is red in the face, his white hair a mess, and rage glowing in his green eyes.
“Stay the fuck away from my sister,” your brother snarls in the redhead’s face and shoves him away for good measure, “Get the hell outta here, Jax.”
The redhead sneers and spits at the prince. He turns and limps down the alleyway, a sneer on his face, “This ain't over, Princess.”
Your brother rolls his eyes and then dusts himself off as he turns back to his little sister, lips twisting into a smirk, “You okay, Sunshine?”
You grin and fling yourself into your brother's arms, “I'm fine! Not even a scratch. Can you teach me how to fight like that?”
Your brother laughs, green eyes alight with mirth, “Sure. When you're old enough not to need an afternoon nap.”
You pout, thumping him on the chest, “Ugh. You say that every time.”
“Sunshine. You'll be asleep before we even get back home,” He points out and scoops you up, over his shoulder, grinning when you let out a delighted laugh. You argue that you most definitely won't fall asleep, and to his surprise, you don't. Your brother carts you all the way to your bedroom where he plops you on the bed. You bounce with a giggle and then attack him, jabbing at his ribs and armpits with a grin.
It lasts until he gets the upper hand and tickles his baby sister until you're red in the face and gasping for oxygen, begging for uncle. He pulls you in a headlock, kissing the top of your head with fondness.
“You know I'll always protect you, right?”
You nod, turning around to hug your brother as tightly as you can, “Of course I do! You're my big brother, Tomura!”
The scene changes suddenly, and you can hear the sounds of screams and vile laughter echoing all around you. Watching your home burn has become a familiar sight, but it still leaves you shaking in fear. Tomura runs as fast as he can, legs nothing but a literal cloud of dust as he skids around corners and runs down alleyways to get to the docks.
Another turn, and you know what's coming up. Tomura begs you not to look, but your eyes land on the tall figure anyway, wide-brimmed hat and white feather filling your vision until the next alleyway breaks your line of sight.
Tomura drops you to the deck, and you scramble up to help him pull the rigging and open the sails. Snow falls all around you, but your brother is there to help when you need it, and soon, the two of you are out in the open sea. Everything is okay for a while, and then the side of your boat exploding into splinters has you screaming in fear. Another shot is missed, sending freezing sea water over you and Tomura. The saltwater feels paralyzing, the devil fruit snarling at having been drenched.
The ship on the port side suddenly implodes, wood scattering everywhere and sending the Big Mom pirates to water graves. The same thing happens to the two ships on your starboard, and you look out into the raging seas and finally catch sight of that big white feather that blows in the winds before it disappears behind the rising waves.
-----
You jerk awake with a gasp, eyes wide and chest heaving. You can still hear the boy's name ringing in your head. Tomura Tomura Tomura. That was your brother's name. How could you have ever forgotten his name? Someone so near and dear to your heart. The one who had saved you from the destruction of your home. Why are you remembering now when you've been having these dreams for over a year? Why can you still recall his name? What he looks like.
You are so in your head, thoughts racing as you try and fail to pull up any memories of your past, that you don't notice the two men looking at you in concern. You have sat up, hand over your mouth and eyes wide like you've just seen a ghost. Shanks and Mihawk share a look of concern, and then the redhead carefully reaches out to touch your shoulder.
“You okay, Angel?” He asks, and the sudden touch and noise have you jumping out of your skin.
You whip around, turning to sit on your knees on the bed and look at your boys. They look worried, and you can't blame them. You probably look crazy, but it feels like a puzzle piece has finally clicked into place, and you can't just keep it to yourself.
“I have a brother. I-I think his name is Tomura. He's got white hair and green eyes, and he's the one who brought me here.”
This is definitely not what either man had expected you to say. Shanks looks a little confused but accepting, but Mihawk looks pale, yellow eyes wide with a hint of panic behind them before he expertly schools his features. The redhead glances over at the warlord and quickly switches to damage control. This wasn't the time for that talk.
“Do you remember anything else, Sweetheart?” He asks and smooths his hand up and into your hair. The name Tomura sounds familiar, but he doesn't think he's ever seen the man you are speaking about. To you, your brother would still be nothing but a boy in your memories. He glances at Mihawk, relieved to see that the panic has disappeared, and he looks like his unimpressed self.
“He was older than me, a teenager. He'd be a man now if he's still alive,” you murmur, carefully putting the pieces together. Why can't you remember more? Did something happen to you? Thinking about that makes you feel uneasy, and you curl an arm around your belly protectively.
While you go back and forth with Shanks, telling the redhead of the other dreams you've been having, Mihawk is quietly spiraling. This is his worst nightmare. If you started to remember your past, then he feared that you would remember him, too. Dracule knows that you saw him that night. He'd seen you too, tossed over your brother's shoulder as he ran away, and then again on the ship that took you away from your home. You would want nothing to do with him if you ever found out that Dracule was responsible.
Even though you've only been a part of his life for such a short time, Mihawk couldn't imagine losing you. To give up the content happiness that he's finally achieved by being here with you. Not to mention the wonderful gift you have given to him and Shanks. You have become his everything, his reasons for continuing his sham of a career as a warlord. All of it is used to keep you safe from harm.
Mihawk knows your brother, has seen him in passing, and seen him in action. The younger man is vicious and would not hesitate to attack Mihawk if he knew that the warlord had connections to his sister. It was only the knowledge of Mihawk driving the other ships away that night that kept the tension from snapping between the two men when they were in the same room together. Thankfully, it isn't that often.
However, none of that has happened, and if he were lucky, Mihawk would never have to deal with it being a problem. He forces himself to take a deep breath, letting it out slowly through his nose. He needs to focus and get over himself. Everything would be fine.
“I um. I saw you again, too, Mihawk.”
Okay. Maybe everything wouldn't be okay.
Dracule licks his lips, glad that he isn't facing his angel right now or else she would see the guilt that painted his face. The warlord schools his face once more and then swings his legs off the bed, stomach churning as he turns and gives you a smirk that doesn't quite reach his eyes.
“Still dreaming about me, are you?” Mihawk teases, and thankfully, you don't see anything remiss about his expression.
You huff and roll your eyes at the warlord, put out at being dismissed on the subject, “At least a couple times a week.”
Shanks gives him a look, and Dracule glares right back over your head at the redhead. The other man just sighs and shakes his head in disappointment, annoyed that Mihawk wouldn't just come clean and put all of this behind them.
Dracule shifts back on the bed, long arms curling around your legs as he rests his face against your plush thighs. He kisses each one gently and then leans up to press his lips to your swollen tummy, and you can't help the snort that leaves you at the ticklish sensation.
The warlord tugs you in for a kiss, aiming to make you forget about this topic, “I've told you before to not worry about these dreams, Darling.”
You shrug at him, expression a bit helpless in the face of his clear dismissal. Usually, you would be content to let the matter slide, but this dream irks you, and you need to get to the bottom of this.
“I know you have,” you grumble and let yourself be pulled into Shanks’ embrace, turning your head to nudge into his shoulder. The redhead runs almost as hot as Mihawk, and you bask in it. His hand finds your own and gives it an encouraging squeeze, “But I can't let this one go. I've never been able to remember anything more than watching an island burn and you, Mihawk.”
The warlord tenses, and Shanks can see the way his back tightens up like a bowstring. He tugs you closer to his chest, not willing to let you see the unease that surrounds the other man. You go willingly, frown lingering on your lips as you lose yourself back in your head, going over your dreams and trying to pick out anything else that might stick out at you.
Dracule stands, turning to drop a quick kiss on your brow and Shanks’ cheek, “I’ll go start breakfast. You need your energy.”
Mihawk tosses on a robe and escapes from the bedroom.
You watch him go, concerned at the way he had retreated, and Shanks sighs heavily under you, eyes shut as he shakes his head at the other man's ridiculousness right now.
“Is he okay?” You ask quietly, and Shanks hates the way you sound so hesitant, so unsure of yourself. You speak up again before the pirate can assure you that Mihawk is fine.
“He's always been like this when I mention my dreams, and it hurts when he just casts them away. What if I'm right, and all this crap in my brain are memories?”
Shanks isn't sure what to tell you. He isn't the one that you should be discussing this with, but Mihawk obviously wasn't going to be the one to come clean. How can Shanks tell you that your hunch is right without giving away Dracule’s involvement? This was the other man's mess to fix, but Shanks felt guilty just by association.
“Sometimes Mihawk thinks he knows what's best for us, even if he doesn't go about it the right way,” Shanks murmurs and kisses the top of your head, trying to assure his lover, “Want me to go talk to him?”
You debate the offer. It makes you feel weird to have Shanks be the one to mitigate the tension that rolls between you and Mihawk. But you're tired of watching the other man push you away any time that you mention your dreams to him. They have to mean something, and whatever it is- it's important to you, and you have to find out why. You could have a brother out there, someone who knew who you were. Why would Hawkeye dismiss it?
You sigh and finally nod, “Yeah okay. Maybe that's not a bad idea.”
Shanks hums, rolling the two of you and looming over you. He leans in and kisses you silly, tongue slipping past your lips to gently curl with your own slick muscle. The kiss makes you relax, and you sink back into the bed with a soft sigh. He smiles down at you, leaning in to rub his nose along your own.
“I've got you, Sweetheart. We’ll figure this out together. Okay?”
You nod gratefully, a sweet smile playing on your lips, “Okay.”
The Emperor bestows one last kiss and then shuffles out of the bed. He tugged on his pants from yesterday and watched as Sukuna took his spot, curling up close to his human and glaring at the redhead as if Shanks had been the one to upset you. He glares right back at the demon cat and then lopes out of the bedroom, Hank jumping up from the floor and following after him.
He finds Mihawk in the kitchen, hovering over the stove and fixing up a hearty breakfast for the three of them. The kettle has been filled, and Shanks spots three mugs on the counter, each filled with their preferred blend. He is quiet as he steps close to Mihawk, pressing his front to the other man's back and hooking his chin over his shoulder.
“You're being an asshole, ya know,” the redhead points out, tone not unkind, but Shanks is tired of stepping on eggshells about this with the other man.
Mihawk puffs up like a bird, yellow eyes going wide as he stills, “I am not being an asshole. I'm doing my best to protect her.”
Shanks hums. It's a disbelieving sound, and it causes Dracule's hackles to rise, irritation flaring up like an old wound. What would the Emperor know anyway? He hadn't been there that night. Mihawk had slaughtered your people, painted Yoru red with their blood, and had done so out of pure boredom. He didn't think that saving you and your brother absolved him of his sins.
“You could at least tell her that her brother is alive,” Shanks points out, but Mihawk is shaking his head, his frown even more prominent.
“No, then she'd know of my involvement, and I can't risk that.” He denies it and goes back to furiously scrambling the eggs that pop and sizzle in the pan. He doesn't want to talk about this anymore. He'd much rather just forget about all of this and go back to having a nice, peaceful morning.
“I think you're being an idiot,” Shanks says, tone disappointed and despondent, “She's been nothing but kind and accepting to us. She's pregnant with our child, don't you think she deserves to know everything?”
Dracule tenses the more Shanks goes on, and inside, the warlord knows that the other man is right. It isn't fair to you, but just the thought of admitting his deeds makes him clam up, fear curdling his stomach.
“You know she loves you, right? Told me that before the three of us got together, she was worried I was trying to take her away from you.”
“Stop lying,” Mihawk hisses and grips the counter, brows pulled together in an awful scowl. He doesn't want to hear anymore. How could you love someone so monstrous and selfish like him?
“I'm not lying. She loves you. Just like I never stopped loving you, Mihawk,” Shanks murmurs and pushes past the grief and anger that he can feel surrounding the other man. He presses his brow to Dracule's tense back, willing the warlord to open his ears and listen to him.
“Stop being afraid to love us back.”
“I'm not afraid,” Dracule sounds wrecked, and Shanks curls his arm around that slim waist, tugging him closer to his chest and holding the older man close.
“Then come clean, Baby. Tell her what happened, and let her hear your piece.” Shanks urges softly and presses a kiss to the side of his neck, “You can't keep it inside forever.”
Mihawk is quiet for a long time. Could he do this? Could he open up to you about everything, even with the risk of you tossing him out into the ocean? Dracule thinks of the pained look that he'd caught when he'd dismissed your memories and finds that the guilt is near suffocating. Shanks was right. It wasn't fair to any of them.
“After breakfast, I'll tell her.” Mihawk decides quietly. He doesn't want to, and it terrifies him to think what your reaction will be, but it must happen. Dracule was tired of hiding.
Shanks hugs his treasure close and promises him the same thing that he promised you not very long ago, “We'll figure this out together, yeah?”
Dracule gives a jerky nod, and then the two focus on getting breakfast finished. Shanks sneaks Hank some eggs, and the big lug happily scarfs them down. Mihawk sets the table, busying himself while Shanks disappears to escort you to the kitchen.
He finds you curled up still, Sukuna draped over you like a big, fluffy shield. He goes to the side of the bed and cards his hand through your hair, “You up for breakfast, sweetheart?”
Your pregnancy has been more of a struggle than anything. You hated how emotional you’ve become, getting upset over tiny things that you would otherwise ignore. You couldn’t eat certain things, and you had cried the last time the scent of your favorite tea had made you nauseous. You felt needy, and that made you feel even worse, even though Shanks and Mihawk both have assured you more than a few times that it was fine.
The men actually enjoyed how clingy you've become, eagerly awaiting your beck and call, whether it be running you a hot bath or massaging your sore ankles. Mihawk, in particular, turned out to be a mother hen, coming around more often and staying close to your side. He found books on the birthing process and what to expect after and made it a point to read them out loud when Shanks was able to come around. The other man would grimace and bury his face in the closest soft surface.
“I guess,” you murmur and push yourself up. Sukuna meows in protest, golden eyes narrowing on Shanks for being the one to disturb his nap. You dig your fingers into his thick coat and scratch the ornery beast, and your cat rewards you with thunderous purs. They make you crack and smile, and then you scoot off the bed, grabbing your fluffy robe and tossing it on.
Shanks follows you back to the kitchen where Mihawk has finished setting the table. The warlord comes to your side the moment he sees you, long fingers framing your face as he leans in and kisses you softly. You are surprised enough to kiss him back, but it only lasts half a second before he is pulling away, though he doesn't go far.
“Forgive me, Darling. I shouldn't treat you that way. Especially when it is something so dear to you.”
Mihawk's apology has you melting in his hold, tears well up, and slides down your cheeks. He wipes them away, unphased by the sudden appearance of them.
You sniff and give Dracule a watery smile, “Thank you for apologizing.”
Your rough voice makes his heart break, and Mihaek has a foreboding feeling that he'll be begging for your forgiveness again sooner rather than later. He doesn't want to upset you even more than you are now, but Mihawk had promised Shanks.
“Come, Angel. Let's have breakfast, then I think you and I should talk.”
You frown at the words, but nod, not in the mood to argue with the older man right now. Shanks presses a kiss to the back of your head and then takes his seat, patting his lap with a grin. Mihawk scoffs quietly but steers you in the Emperor’s direction, and you end up seated on the redhead’s lap. You cautiously pull your tea forward and relax when the scent of spearmint reaches your nose.
Breakfast is a quiet affair, though both men are attentive as usual and make sure that you have eaten your fill before they begin to clean up. You pout at being sent to the living room and remind the men that you aren't completely useless. Shanks relents first and reluctantly lets you take over drying the dishes while he goes outside to feed Neal and the three chickens.
Afterward, the three of you retreat to the living room. Your nerves build when the Mihawk sits you in his usual armchair while he and Shanks share the couch. You curl your legs under you, not liking the tension that had bloomed in the room. you lick your lips and break the silence when it seems that neither Shanks nor Mihawk looked like they were going to speak up.
“What's going on?”
You aren't expecting Mihawk to catch your gaze, and you are wholly unprepared to see the terrible guilt and fear that swim in his ringed eyes. The sight strikes you, and you feel concern and anger well up inside. You don't like to see these emotions in your warlord. Mihawk has always been a stone pillar in your life, and it upset you to know that something had made him feel like this.
“Do you remember when you first told me of the dreams you kept having?” When you nod, Mihawk continues, “I lied when I told you that I didn't know anything about them. I panicked earlier when you called your dreams memories because they are _.”
You stare at Mihawk. You can hear him, but there is a ringing in your ears. What did he mean? How could Mihawk know?
“...what?”
Shanks butts in when he sees the confusion and horror that masks your face, “Sweetheart. What do you remember of your home before you came here? Where you came from?”
You shake your head, hands clutching at your robe, “Ah, no? That's always been a little fuzzy for me. I don't know why I can't remember.”
Mihawk speaks up, and you've never heard the stoic man so fretful and nervous before. You don't like it.
“Your home was a chain of prosperous islands named the Nammu Isles. Your parents ruled with a kind hand, but people began to talk, and Charlotte started hearing rumors that the kingdom had connections to Ohara.”
you recognize the name. You remember reading it in one of the many books that Mihawk had brought you over the months. You remember feeling so so angry reading the name, but you couldn't find a reason why. You don't know if it's better or worse now that you know the reason.
“Your parents begged her for a chance to save themselves and offered you up as a bride for one of Big Mom’s sons. She pretended to accept the deal, but in reality, she sent out a message. Calling anyone who wanted a good fight to assist in dealing with a country who needed to know their place.”
“And you were one of them?” You breathe, tone full of anguish, and you look between Mihawk and Shanks. Your heart thuds loudly, and you curl an arm protectively around your stomach. You feel sick.
“I was,” Mihawk confirms, tone wretched and broken, “Your oldest brother, Tomura, found out about the attack and got you out before Big Mom and her sons could make it to the castle. I followed them inside and overheard them making plans to send out ships to search for the two of you, and I decided then that I wanted nothing more to do with Big Mom and her destruction.”
Dracule can see your mounting horror, and he knows he deserves every bit of it, but Mihawk needs to tell you the rest, so he continues.
“I stood there in the main room, looking at all the destruction that they had caused. That I caused, but when I saw you, so innocent and undeserving of what we did to your home, I knew that I couldn't let them find you. I left without a word and sailed out to find you and your brother, saving you from the pirates that had found you, and then I ran. As the years passed, I forgot about what happened, forgot about you, until I found you again.”
You feel like you've stepped straight into the raging waves of the ocean as memories play behind your eyes. You can see it so clearly now, Mihawk arriving on your island and your brother begging you to look away from the Marine Hunter at the time. You can feel the ship rock and shake under you when the cannon balls get too close, and the silence after once you realize that you are safe. You know in your heart that Dracule is telling the truth, but how are you supposed to take such a confession?
You hate him for helping destroy your life, but you can't even remember what your parents look like. Your dreams - memories you remind yourself - only ever showing you your brother and the destruction of your home. But Mihawk had lied to you about who you are for almost two years. He knew your past, knew more than even you. How else were you supposed to feel?
and Shanks? How long had he known? Was he on it, too? The redhead had to have been. They were far too close, and Shanks too knowledgeable about the world. You feel sick, disgusted with the two men in front of you, but numb, too. You don't know how the warlord wants you to react, but you don't think you can deal with either of them right now.
Your silence unnerves Dracule, and he moves from the couch, taking a half step toward his angel, only to stop when you happen to stand as well. He watches with a hopeful expression that falls as you walk past him. Shanks stands as well, dark eyes never leaving your figure as you walk to the front door.
They watch you open it up and stand beside the exit, and Mihawk feels his heart break into a thousand pieces when you look at him, expression closed off and unreadable.
“Get out. Both of you.”
The silence that rings after your statement is deafening. Shanks and Mihawk share a look, and the redhead takes a step forward, hand outstretched.
“Baby, don't - you don't mean that,” he whispers quietly, but you don't look at him. You can't right now. instead, you keep solid eye contact with Mihawk, the true culprit.
“Yes I do. I want you out. Now,” you repeat, and the longer the men linger, the more upset you grow. You have to think. You need time to wrap your head around the fact that both of the people you trust the most in the world have lied to you.
Thankfully, Mihawk seems to understand that being there right now would be the worst thing he and Shanks could do. He tugs Shanks back to the bedroom where Dracule silently gathers his things, slipping on his coat and hat while Shanks roots around for his shirt.
“Mihawk-,” Shanks murmurs, but stops the second the older man shakes his head. The redhead can feel Mihawk's anguish, and he desperately wants to take it away from him, but he knows that only one thing would get Dracule out of his head, and that was you.
You are still standing by the door when they come out of the bedroom. Mihawk can see the way you tremble, but you stay strong and watch them come closer. He stops before you, wanting to reach out, to bed for forgiveness, but the warlord knows it would only make this all worse.
“Call us, please, angel,” Dracule says instead, and doesn't budge until you dip your head in agreement. He fights against the urge to pull you in for a kiss and instead ducks out of the cottage and stalks down the footpath. He needs to go or else he would stay and do something that he would regret.
Shanks lingers, and the redhead can't help himself. He goes to close the distance only for a weight to be shoved at his legs. He looks down, disbelief coloring his face when he sees Hank standing between the two of you. The big mutt stares up at Shanks, and the redhead swears that he can see disappointment swimming in the dog's dark gaze. He looks up at you, helpless, but you look away from him.
“I said get out, Shanks,” you hiss, and the redhead can hear the strain in your voice. He wants to stay, wants to tell you that everything would be okay, and that the three of you could work through this, but he knows that it's a lost cause. At least for now.
“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” Shanks murmurs, and then he turns and follows Mihawk down the path and to the beach. He rounds up his crew with a few short words, heart breaking further when he realizes that Mihawk is already on his ship sailing away, not even nothing to wait for the younger man.
Now alone, you shut the door and go to the couch, sitting in the middle of it. You take a look around your empty home, feeling hollow and alone. You give Hank a sad, strained smile when he comes and sits beside you, Sukuna appearing seconds later to curl up in your lap. Tears well up and stream down your cheeks, but you do not stop them. You let them fall, and grieve for a past you can't remember and a future that you don't know if you can trust.
@writingmysanity @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @anastasiyax @jaguarthecat @atricksterwithwings
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hannibal-solos · 9 months
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Making Waves (Billy Russo x Reader)
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Billy Russo x Reader, Cruise ship AU
Un-beta'd, all mistakes are my own
All works should be considered 18+, minors DNI
Word count: 4k
Vacation to some, torture to others. Potato potato, am I right? 
You'd won a one-week cruise to the Caribbean through your office raffle, after your kindly HR friend Cindy had signed you up for it. 
"You could use a vacation, otherwise you're gonna work yourself to death!" 
Vacations were nice, but being trapped on a giant floating metal island for a week jam-packed with strangers was very much not your definition of nice OR relaxing. 
Nevertheless, you grit your teeth and make the long walk of shame up the ramp, and onto what could be the Titanic II for all you know. You may have overpacked, just a teeny tiny bit. Your perfectly sized personal item backpack pales in comparison to the hefty suitcase that currently held everything you might need in a week, something for every emergency (be it a fashion crisis or a health one) you were prepared to make the best of this trip–come hell or high water. 
You’re halfway up the ramp when you can sense someone approaching from behind. You move to the left so they can pass on the right, but as they get closer, to your horror, they stop. 
“Can I help you with that doll?” 
A lithe man in a black button-down and black slacks stands behind you, his small smile signaling that he means no ill will, you’re not holding up the line, he just wants to help. 
“Oh no it’s okay, I got it!” You try to wave him off and give the best “I’m totally not exhausted and nervous” smile that you can muster. 
He chuckles. 
“I’m sure you do got it, but what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t at least offer? I commend you for dragging that thing this far, but I really don’t mind helping. Or, we can lug it together if you want.” 
You consider his offer. It’s better to have him help than have him do it for you, you don’t want to impose. Although he is definitely doing it for me. You try to shake the thought away and look up at him with a shy smile. 
“Let’s tag team it. I’ll grab the top?” 
“Absolutely, I’ll grab from the end.” 
You lead the charge up the rest of the ramp, moving much faster thanks to Mr. Tall, dark, and handsome. When you reach the top, he gingerly sets the bottom end of the bag on the ground. He only has a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, and the panic begins to set in. 
Oh god he thinks I’m some kind of high-maintenance vacationer who needs 5 outfits a day oh god eject eject say thank you and then melt into your bed until tomorrow. 
“Well, thank you for helping me haul this thing the rest of the way, I really appreciate it.” 
“Oh, no problem! I had someone else take my bigger bag, so I definitely get it.” 
Oh thank god he doesn’t think I’m insane yet  
“I’m Billy, by the way.” he holds out his hand, and you shake it as you give your name.
“Pleased to meet you, Billy! Now, do you know where we’re meant to be going?” 
He chuckles. 
“Yeah, we’re gonna go straight till we have to make a right, then we’re gonna be in this glass tunnel that’s a connecting bridge from here to the ship. It’s pretty cool actually, unless you don’t like heights, in which case, not cool.” 
You pale a little. 
“Ah, yeah, not cool, unfortunately. I’m sure the view is amazing though!” 
“Most definitely yeah. Hey don’t worry, I’ll stick with ya so you don’t have to look out the windows, just look straight at the back of my head so you don’t look down.” 
This sort of kindness from a complete stranger is enough to make your heart clench. This man literally just met you and is already kinder than most people you’ve met in ages.
“Thanks, I appreciate it. Don’t wanna get sick before I even get on the boat.” You tack on a nervous laugh, to signal that you’re joking-but-not-joking. 
The smile he gives you could cut through the densest of sea fog on the darkest of nights. 
“I totally understand. Let’s get this party started then, I’ll lead the way, you look straight ahead. Here, I’ll keep you distracted. What do you do for work?” 
You prattle off facts about your life on the journey to and across the glass sky bridge. He was right, if you weren’t afraid of heights, it would be beautiful. He must have sensed your trepidation from behind him, as he turns around to face you fully. 
“Hey,” he gently takes you by the hand– “All good, look at me, you’re all good. We’ve only got a little bit left to go before we get to the main hall. You’ve got this, eyes forward, that’s right, one foot in front of the other.” 
The only thing you can focus on is the warm feeling of his much larger hand covering yours. You try to not let your imagination run away from you in the time it takes to cross the rest of the bridge. You’re still holding hands when you come to the entrance of the main hall, and you stop to stare in awe. 
There’s a massive staircase, like one you’d expect to see in a mansion. The floors are stunning marble, and there’s a grand chandelier hanging in the center of the room. 
Maybe this really is the Titanic II, good lord. 
You give a small squeak when you come back to reality, realizing you are still most definitely holding hands with a stranger. 
“Sorry about that–” 
“No worries, I know it’s a lot to take in. This your first time cruising?” 
You laugh. 
“Yeah, it’s that obvious huh?” 
“Nah, these things are so well-designed, no matter how many times you see it it’s still hard to believe it’s a ship and not someone’s mega-mansion. But I guess it’s kinda like a mega-mansion on the ocean, in a way, these things have everything.” 
You start to inch your way through the line together. 
“I take it this isn’t your first time on one of these things then?” 
“I’ve been on a couple now. They’re the best way to drop off the grid while you’re on vacation, can’t be disturbed if there’s barely any cell signal.” 
As you finally reach the front of the line, you realize they’ve been announcing the names of passenger parties, almost like royalty when entering a grand ballroom. Nerves begin to churn in the pit of your stomach. Nothing says “relaxation” quite like having your presence announced to everyone else in the vicinity. 
“Last name of your reservation, sir?” 
“Russo, Billy Russo.” 
“Wonderful, Mr. and Mrs. Russo!” He bellows out, to the cheers of the onlookers and crew. 
You would melt through the floor and into the depths of the ocean if you could. 
“OH we’re–” 
“Thank you, sir. Have a wonderful day”. He grabs your hand once more and leads you past all the smiling crew members. 
Once you’re a safer distance away from the crew member announcing party names, Billy turns to you.
“Sorry about that, I panicked a little and figured it was easier to go with it than cause a scene. I hope I didn’t accidentally steal you from anyone.” 
“No not at all, just wasn’t sure if that was how we checked in to make sure they know we’re on the ship! Wouldn’t want them giving my room away if they think I’m not here.” 
“Whew! Good point yeah, I think there’s a service desk right over there actually. We can head over and make sure we know where we’re going next?” 
“Yeah absolutely!” 
You make your way over to the lacquered desk, returning the smile of the friendly clerk. 
“Hello, welcome aboard! How can I assist you?” 
“I just wanted to make sure I was checked in so I can head over to whichever room is mine and drop my stuff!” 
“And I wanted to do the same.” Billy chimes in from beside you. 
“Of course! May I have your reservation name please?” 
You give yours, and Billy gives his. 
“Alrighty then, you’re both checked in, have a magical stay! If there’s anything you need please feel free to visit us here anytime!”
You both thank the clerk, and turn to look at your room keys. 
“Oh! Before I forget–” You grab a map of the ship from the desk. 
“Good call, room number won’t do much good if we don’t know where it is.” 
Your small smile is masked as you look down and over the map of the massive ship. It truly is a luxury cruiseliner, and you’re half wondering if the trip got donated to your office raffle because holy hell a ticket for one of these things must cost a fortune. There are at least 3 pools, a day club, a nightclub, a karaoke bar, every single kind of restaurant you could imagine, and an entirely separate page just listing the amenities. 
Before you get too distracted you begin searching for the room blocks on the map, where is the 300 block? 
“Ah, found it! I think I know where I’m supposed to go, did you wanna take a look at the map for your room block?” 
“Yeah actually, thanks.” 
Instead of taking the map from you like a normal person, he decides to stand directly over you and read from there as he towers over your smaller frame. Normal, yeah, this is totally normal. You think as you register the fact that you can smell his cologne now. You need to make your getaway soon or you’re gonna start sweating. 
“There we are, I think I got it!” 
“Great! Well, uh, I guess this is where we part ways for now? I really appreciate all the help today–hopefully, I can get the hang of everything before the week is out!” You rub the back of your neck nervously. 
A warm smile graces his features. 
“Hey, it was my pleasure! Not every day you get to meet someone great naturally like that. If it’s not too much to ask, would it be okay if I grabbed your number? The cell service is shit but there’s in-cruise wifi so we should be able to reach out–”
“One thousand percent. Honestly, I’m glad you asked because I would not have mustered up the courage to ask. It’ll be nice to have a cruise friend though, it’ll certainly be less boring for me now!” 
“Honestly, same. I’m used to doing these by myself, so it’ll be a nice change of pace.” 
You swap phones, and you enter your name into his contacts, with a little cruise ship emoji by it. When you swap back, he sends you a test text to make sure you’re all saved properly. 
This is Billy 
You smile genuinely at your phone before looking up at him once more. 
“I guess I’ll see you for the set-sail party?” you inquire. 
“Oh absolutely, I hate going through that one alone, it’s the most forced joy you’ll feel all trip, but the other ones do wind up being a lot more fun once you’re used to how they go.” 
“Mister Russo, sir!” 
A crew member catches his attention from across the deck. 
“Ah, looks like I’m in trouble already. I’ll see you at the party, sweetheart.” He winks before grabbing his duffle and heading toward the crew member. 
You don’t mean to stare, you really don’t, but your eyes follow him as he’s led to the very fancy-looking elevator with a sign that reads “VIP access only”. 
Once he exits your sight, you make your way to your room. The 300 block is a bit of a hike from the main deck, but you manage to make it there eventually.You open the door to find a room smaller than a standard hotel room. The room is sparse, with one full-sized bed, a dresser, and your nightstand. The bathroom has a decently sized shower and stand-alone sink and toilet, with room for not much else. You don’t have a window. You’re still deciding if it’s better to not have it because looking at the waves will make you seasick, or if it’s better to have it so you can focus on the horizon if you feel sick. 
You grab your best dressy-casual outfit from the confines of your suitcase, when you’re interrupted by a knock at the door. 
“Miss–?” He inquires.
“Yes, can I help you?” 
“I’m actually here to let you know you’ve been upgraded, and escort you to your new room! I hope you haven’t unpacked too much already.” 
You can’t mask your shock, you’ll have to thank Cindy as soon as you get settled. 
“Oh no I’ve barely unpacked, let me throw something back in my suitcase real quick and I’ll be ready to go!”
You shove the outfit back in and zip it shut, quickly grabbing your phone and backpack as well. 
The crew member takes your suitcase and loads it onto a golden luggage cart. You’re beginning to imagine a room with a window, maybe even a balcony. 
Okay, this is actually really exciting! 
You step into the elevator with him, and to your surprise, he hits the VIP button and uses his access card to approve it. 
“Oh–” You exclaim, “Are we picking up someone else as well?” 
He smiles at you warmly. 
“No miss, your new room is at VIP level. I can guarantee you’ll have a much better view from up here!” 
Nerves begin to pool once more in the depths of your stomach. Is this how they get more money from people? Trick them into thinking they’ve been upgraded and then charge their card at the end of the trip?
The elevator doors open, revealing a much more stately corridor than the one you’d traveled to get to your previous room. 
He leads you almost to the end of the hallway before stopping in front of an ornate wooden door. It’s so much quieter up here, you wonder if there are actually any other guests. 
He takes your bag off the cart and places it inside the room. 
“Here’s your new keycard miss, this will provide access to both the elevator and your room. If you need absolutely anything you can reach me using the bedside phone and dialing two, my name is Brian, I’m the executive assistant for this wing.” 
“Thank you Brian, I appreciate it.” 
You close the door and truly take in your surroundings. A queen-sized bed sits in the middle of the wall, where if you rolled over in bed you’d have the perfect view out the sliding glass doors that lead to the balcony. Even from the doorway, you can see the horizon out on the ocean. There’s a large wooden dresser on the wall opposite the bed, with an equally as large TV hanging above it, showing a “Welcome aboard!” message, with your name on it. If you thought the room was nice, the bathroom is on another level. Instead of a dinky shower and standalone sink, there’s a shower, a jacuzzi tub, and a large double vanity. 
You opt to make the most of this, so if it’s some sort of mistake you’ll have enjoyed it for at least a little while. You retrieve your chosen outfit once more, a blue and white floral sundress that hits just above your knees. You opt for platform sandals and your wicker crossbody bag, so you have a lower chance of setting it down somewhere and losing it. 
As you leave your room behind and enter the elevator, you shoot a text to Billy. 
Headed down for the party, did you still wanna meet up? 
His text arrives as you hit the main deck level, the doors opening to reveal a cacophony of sounds: blaring music, raucous laughter, and drunken revelry. 
Absolutely. I’m hanging out over by the cabana bar. We can meet there?  
You smile and send back an On my way! 
Well, as it turns out, there are a few cabana bars on deck. You decide to just check them one by one, scoping them out to see if he’s there. He wasn’t at the first one, so you approach the second one, sitting on a stool to gain some height, leaning over the bar to see if you can spot him on the other side. 
You jump when you feel a hand on the small of your back. 
“Looking for someone, beautiful?” 
You turn around to face a man that is most definitely not Billy. He’s quite tall, but with blond hair and blue eyes, wearing a matching white linen shirt and pants.
You smile nervously. 
“I’m uh looking for my friend actually–” 
“Is she as pretty as you are?” 
Oh LORD I’m too sober for this. The set-sail party has barely begun and he already smells like straight-up tequila. 
“Hey sweetheart, sorry about the mix-up.” 
Blessedly, Billy approaches from your side. He opted for a green linen shirt and black trousers, looking like a men's resort-wear model fresh off the runway. 
“Oh, no worries! Just glad we found each other.” 
As he turns his attention from you to the blond-haired pest behind you, his smile drops, and his eyes harden ever so slightly. 
“I’ll see you around, pretty girl.” he saunters off, and Billy replaces his presence with his own, pulling up a stool to sit next to you. He’s close enough to where your knees are touching when he sits. 
“Sorry about that, I didn’t remember there being so many cabana bars, I usually only go to the little one by the adults-only pool, it’s really peaceful, you’ll have to try it out.” 
“Oh no worries at all! It helped me explore the ship a little more.” You reassure him with a kind smile. 
He gives you his hand and you take it gingerly, hopping off your stool and using him to make sure you don’t fall. 
He leads you to a smaller cabana bar, the noise of the party dimmer out here. You’re tempted to look out at the ocean, and you spare the horizon a quick glance. 
“Weird, right? Don’t think I’ll ever really get used to the feeling. I will promise you’ll get amazing sunsets out here though, no giant buildings to block the view.” 
You smile. 
“That’s definitely something worth looking forward to.” 
You both occupy a set of chaise lounges on the far side of the pool, providing a view of the spectacle now that the party was really ramping up. Passengers are dancing, singing, and some of the more adventurous ones have joined either the limbo line or the line for flaming shots. When the waiter comes by, they ask for your drink order. Billy orders whiskey, neat. You decide to get a little more in the vacation spirit, and opt for a margarita. When they bring your drinks back, Billy takes both from the tray, handing you your glass and setting his own on the little side table before fishing out a $50 bill to hand them. 
“Oh wait–” You fish for your wallet. 
“No worries, thank you!” He waves the staff off. 
“Billy you didn’t have to do that!” 
“Nah it just makes the process smoother, sorry I should have asked first–I’m used to picking up the tab.” 
“How much do I owe you? I have cash or I can Venmo, PayPal, Zelle, CashApp, I have pretty much all of them.” you chuckle. 
“Don’t worry about it, I have a ton of drink credits that came with my ticket so this way I don’t have to become an alcoholic using all of them alone.” 
Your face warms at the smile he gives you. He raises his glass. 
“Well, cheers to a proper vacation with a new friend.” 
“I’ll drink to that.” You clink your glass against his, careful not to spill your over-filled margarita. You take a sip, and it is delicious. Dangerously so, in fact. 
“Oh that is dangerous.” You voice. 
He laughs. 
“Yeah I’d advise taking it slow, the pours are a little heavy handed here.” 
You spend the majority of the party on those chaise lounges, talking about everything under the sun except the usuals. Both of you seem determined to avoid small talk. You both enjoy reading (Billy largely prefers nonfiction to fiction), and share a particular distaste for brussels sprouts (unless they’re cooked the RIGHT way, which is shaved and roasted till they’re crispy). Before you know it, the sun has set, and you jump as the first firework goes off. 
Billy puts a hand on your shoulder immediately. 
“You good?” he asks with a gentle smile. 
“Yeah, sorry, just caught me by surprise! I didn’t realize it was time for them already. Are we in an okay spot, or should we move?” 
“We’re perfect right here. That’s the other reason I love this area, the perfect place for the fireworks without being packed shoulder to shoulder.” 
You gaze up at the thunderous display of color and light, taking in the oohs and ahhs of your fellow passengers. You gasp as the finale kicks off, the fireworks bathing the entire deck in a golden red light, you turn your head to comment, finding Billy already looking straight at you with a curious look in his eyes. 
It catches you off guard, and you look away in an attempt to hide your dopey smile. 
Don’t read into it. Don’t think about it You try to tell yourself. 
The display ends, and the deck lights kick back on. You start to yawn as you join in the applause. 
“Suppose it’s time to call it a night?” He asks. 
“Probably should yeah, wouldn’t wanna be grumpy on my first full day at sea tomorrow.” you half-heartedly joke. 
You both stand and make your way towards the elevator. 
“How’s your room treating you?” 
“Oh! I actually got upgraded, I haven’t spent much time in it yet besides getting ready, but it’s certainly bigger! It’s got a beautiful balcony but I haven’t found the courage to go out there just yet.” 
“Oh nice! Which floor?” He asks as you step into the elevator. 
You laugh. 
“VIP if you can believe it!” 
He pushes the button and inserts his key card for access. 
“We might be neighbors then! Would certainly make planning easier.” 
As the elevator dings, you both step into the hall. 
“I’m down the hall, 21981.” 
Surprise covers your features. 
“You’re kidding, I’m 21985!” 
“Guess that’ll make it easier to meet up then. If you need melatonin or anything shoot me a text or come knock.” He puts his hands in his pockets, leaning against his door. 
Your heart melts just a little bit further. 
“Same, if you need Dramamine or Tums for anything, I’m your gal.” 
He gives you a devastating smile, and you both can’t seem to find the right words to say goodnight. Or perhaps it’s because you’re not ready to yet? You decide to rip the bandaid off. 
“Well, goodnight Billy. Thank you for everything today, I really really appreciate it. See you for breakfast?” 
“Deal. Goodnight, sweetheart.” 
You turn and make your escape before Billy can see your face and neck turn tomato red. When you key into your room, you hear the beep and soft click of his door unlocking as well, and you bite your lip to keep yourself from turning to stare at him like an idiot. Your door opens, and you make your way through it into your massive room. 
You decide on a well-earned shower after spending all day on deck. After washing your hair and using the fancy body wash from the shower, you grab the plush bathrobe and towel off. Re-entering your room, you grab your phone from its spot on your bed, finding you have a text from Billy. 
How do you feel about breakfast at 10? The eggs benedict at Seaside Cafe are to die for. 
You can’t hide your giggle or the face-splitting smile his message brings you. First day of vacation and you’re already making future plans with a handsome passenger whom you literally met this morning. Cindy’s gonna die when you tell her. 
Sounds good to me :) 
You drift to sleep with your phone in your hand, and for the first time in months, you’re more excited than nervous at what tomorrow will bring. 
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Hobie Brown's Living Room on the S.S Anne Ark
Hobie's living room on the houseboat complete with graffiti, boatcats, and a juke box he's customed himself.
(In depth explainer below - click for higher rez)
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Diane took this photo early in the morning while Hobie was still sleeping upstairs. It seems like Moto the cat is already up. [Light mentions of my Spidersona Disco-Spider Diane below] The S.S Anne Ark (get it- AnArch?) is Hobie's home, and arguably his favorite place in the world.
Gifted to him by an old geezer Hobie used to work for, he's been living on Anne for 4 years now - since he was 16.
And this is his living room.
Hobie is by no means a homebody, but when he is home, he spends most of his time here - reading, writing songs, and listening to music.
The Living Area -
Feel free to imagine a LOT more junk here. The living room floor is always covered with his projects - songbooks, or patches, zines - whatever art he's making then. Cause Hobie is always making art. His couch might as well be older than him - and he found it on a curb in Tower Hamlets, called a few favors, and somehow got it in here. But it's the most comfortable thing you'll ever sit on.
The Music/Recording Area -
Almost every song Hobie has recorded or written in the past 4 years has been here. Hobie keeps most of his music equipment in the wooden cabinet and the good stuff that can't fit gets put on display. There's a microphone rigged to the ceiling and mixing equipment for recording. Hobie's motto is the louder the better, and it's a good thing the windows are re-enforced, because his speakers are loud enough to make the glass rattle. There's also a vintage jukebox that Hobie had bartered for a couple years back. Now, he loves tickering with it. He's swapped out the old 50's songs for something more his taste tho.
The Kitchen Area -
Hobie can cook, and he loves it, but being a street kid for so long, he's hardly ever gotten in the habit of doing it. Hobie's kitchen is sparce, partly because the boat is off the grid. His cupboards are mainly full of books and shoes, and his oven is rarely used. However, he has a grill on the back deck - and that's where he does most of his cooking. Once Gwendy came around, Hobie got a lot more into cooking, the kid seemed like she needed a homecooked meal. Hobie mainly eats cheap street food - street kid habits -frequenting fish n' chip places and kebab shops, and yeah, he calls the dude behind the counter 'boss' or something. He also eats a lot of food from convivence stores, like packaged sandwiches and cold pastas. Because they're easy to carry, and when he was younger, they were (literal) life-savers. The taste gives him nostalgia. The thing he makes most in the kitchen is beans on toast. Diane finds it disgusting, which Hobie finds hilarious.
The BoatCats
Hobie is a man of many cats. He looks after the dock and alley cats, catching fish on early mornings (yes, he fishes) to give to them before he has breakfast. All of them have names, and none of them have collars. And Hobie loves them all. Those that are a bit older, weaker, or just want to - get to come live with him as BoatCats. Pictured here: Left - Moto (Personality: Feisty, Calm, Curious) Right - Pierogi, also known as Rogi (Personality: Cuddly, Talkative, Friendly) Hobie does not care much for their genders, and doesn't check.
More about The S.S Anne Ark (I'll be posting an explainer with the outside, layout, etc)
The S.S Anne Ark is a modified wide-beam canal boat. Completely off-the-grid, and DIY'd by him, it's Hobie's pride and joy. The Anne Ark is three levels tall - a 'ground' floor, and upstairs, and a locked basement below the deck. Pictured is the living room. To the left - beside the windows - there is a hallway that leads to Hobie's workshop and the basement Hobie choses to firmly keep private. Not even Gwen, Pavi or Diane have been down there. To the right behind the cat tree is the stairs up to Hobie's bedroom. (You walk up those stairs, hit the landing, turn and go up again.) The Anne Ark has two 'bedrooms' and one 'bathroom'. Hobie's bedroom is what was once the control room, gutted and converted. The second bedroom was once a small equipment space. The small bathroom is up there as well - but it's more of a wet room, with a shower and toilet. There's a sink to wash your hands on the second floor outdoor deck, but it's either that or the kitchen sink.
But that's Anne Ark! And after years of squatting and homelessness as a streetkid, Hobie considers Anne his forever home. And he takes pride in that.
He tries pride in opening Anne's doors for others too - kids in the same spot he was, who just need a little help.
Other little facts about Anne Ark:
Hobie's leather jacket is on the couch. He has multiple, he can't be walking around in the same jacket as Spiderpunk 24/7, right? He has a couple, and the ones he stops wearing, he donates. He usually starts a new one when the last is too cover in patches to continue.
The Anne Ark changes colors.
Diane throws rager after-parties on Anne Ark after the band's shows. She has her own apartment she loves to death, and doesn't sleep over often - maybe staying a weekend or two a month, or crashing after a party. In turn, Hobie hardly ever sleeps at hers. Mainly because her place is merticulously pink, and she says he messes up her throw pillows. He disagrees with the idea of unusable pillows. And with her own crib and bed a portal jump away, they don't feel the need to bunk together. Non-conventional relationship and all that. [Insert scene of Barbie being like 'why would you wanna stay over?? :) This is MY dreamhouse lol <3 ]
________________________________________
So uhhhhh, that's his living room.
I tried to get it as genuinely close how it looks in me paracosm (i JUST learned that word), based on how Diane sees it. All of this is based off of headcanon and I see it when I'm in the space.
Some things may be left out for sake of space and simplicity - but this is mainly it - as accurately as I could reasonably get it.
If you read this far, THANK YOU - I really appreciate it and it genuinely means a lot! As usual, you will take this photo of Hobie, and pretend this is normal behavior.
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Bye.
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fatsillykewn · 2 months
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Let’s talk Headcanons- or “HCs” in the Kyman fan community.
Over my time in the fandom I’ve noticed such EXTREME discourse over headcanons that are being assigned to Kyle and Cartman specifically. And as of recently, my views have shifted a little bit, as I’ve done some analysis. These are my generalized thoughts, I can get into my specific headcanons in another post.
1. First thing is first. Stop being a fucking asshole over people’s interpretations over the characters. There’s literally no point in harassment/bullying over headcanons- It’s stupid and not serious. Yes, you may hate some ships or hate specific headcanons, but this is a tv show with characters who are not real, let people enjoy fandom spaces however they please with whatever ideas and preferences they have. Us Kymanies already get enough crap as it is, lets stick out for one another! We are all here for fun!
2. “Mountain VS Pine” Most if not all kyman shippers now these terms, and they correspond to who of the two (Kyle and Cartman) is the more tall/dominate one and who is the more small/sumbissive one. I used to be pretty closed minded about this topic- I used to believe pine was the only way to go while shipping kyman and applying headcanons. But in reality, we need to come back and realize that there’s no canonical proof to who plays what role in a romantic relationship between Kyle and Cartman- yes there’s a charged dynamic between the two friends that gives us suggestions- but at the end of the day, there’s open space to fill with what we as the shippers think would work for Kyle and Cartman beyond friendship. While I still very much believe pine kyman is a great and close-to-canon dynamic, I’ve opened my mind to how well the mountain kyman dynamic can work inside and outside of the canon. Both pine and mountain can be in character headcanons and both have support from canonical events in the show, movies and the specials. If you’re a pine truther, awesome!! I love you! If you’re a mountain truther, amazing!! I love you too!! (I will not lie when I say I have read some INCREDIBLE mountain kyman fanfics) And if you’re neutral on pine/mountain kyman, or see them having pretty equivalent traits in a relationship, you rock! I love you too. That’s the boat I am currently in, I love all my pine and mountain kyman shippers and the respective content 🫶
3. “Out of character Headcanons” This is where it can get a little cloudy in the South Park and Kyman fandom. Generally, applying out of character or “OOC” traits and headcanons to a character defeats that character’s already existing purpose and identity. Sometimes, when I see OOC interpretations of Kyle and Cartman in either fics or fanart, it feels like I am reading a story with someone elses original characters or “OCs”. Other times, characters being, well, out of character, is fun! We get to experiment with alternate universes or “AUs” where the characters are nearly completely different compared to how they are in their canon universe/the show, with different purposes and different personalities- they just keep the same names, and similar appearance. For Example, the South Park Kyman Future comic is an AU, I’ve read many fics containing AUs like kyman being Cowboys, Detectives, Professor/student and college students, as well as AUs that are also canon like Post Covid as well as The Stick of Truth and The Fractured But Whole. I’ve definitely seen a powerful split in the kyman fandom between people enjoying OOC interpretations and people hating OOC interpretations. I know, when we as kyman shippers see people getting super OOC with kyle and Cartman it can get a little frustrating, as most fans who are dedicated watchers to the tv show prefer to enjoy kyman in character and respective to canon events. We just need to remember that people come into fandom spaces to have fun and enjoy content! Wether someone is new to the fandom/new to shipping kyman, or has been in the fandom and shipped kyman for a while, let them enjoy their headcanons, no matter if it follows the show’s canon events or not. We all have preferences!
Now that I’ve got this off my chest, kind of putting it out there that I stand on pretty neutral grounds with kyman headcanons- I don’t discriminate! Most of the time 🤣- I’ll put together a post or two about my personal headcanons for Kyle and Cartman, my favorite kyman interpretations and my favorite kyman dynamic preferences!!
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apomaro-mellow · 11 months
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Part 1
Steve was at least given the privilege of cleaning himself up and dressing before being brought before his father in his study.
"I thought I made it abundantly clear-"
"But I didn't go out in a ship", Steve said, quick to defend himself.
"Diving into rocks isn't what I would call a grand back up plan either!"
"I know how it looks, but-" SLAM
Steve stopped when his father's hand came down onto his desk and couldn't help but flinch.
"No, you don't know how it looks. To have the crown prince, first shirking his duties to go out to sea and then nearly drowning before the sun even rises. What it looks like is either you're trying to run away or end your life."
Steve shook his head but didn't speak. It wasn't either of those things. But how could he say what it really was? His father would have him locked up for trying to make contact with a sea creature.
"I've been too lenient. Given you too much freedom. Starting today, your studies and training will increase. And I will be attending as much as I can."
Well, that part didn't sound too bad...
"And you are to never go near that ocean again."
"That's-! How am I supposed to never go back?! We literally live on the shore."
"Those are my orders. You are dismissed."
"Father!"
"I said dismissed!"
Steve's fists clenched and he stood there for a moment, shaking, before bolting out. He slammed the door once he got to his room and flung himself onto the bed. Keeping him from something so close was a tall order, but he believed his father was capable of it. He was the king after all. He'd probably sooner shackle Steve to the bed then let him near a puddle now.
Through his sobs into his pillow, he almost didn't hear it. But there was an audible hissing nearby. He looked up to find he wasn't alone. There were two rather large snakes, coiling up in the middle of the room. Steve quickly grabbed the dagger under his pillow, ready to fight when the snakes began to speak in tandem.
"Don't act so brassshhh."
"We have come with a proposition from our massster."
"A....a what? Who is your master?", Steve asked, dagger still raised.
"He'sss been watching you and sympathizesss."
"He wants to help."
"It's what he doesss."
Steve was skeptical, but he was also running low on options. Even if his father let up, going to the ocean by boat or by cliff hadn't gotten him any closer to finding the owner of the voice.
"Okay, I'll meet with them and see what they have to say. Where are they?"
"Follow ussss."
They slithered through the room and towards the window that Steve realized was now open. They went out and down and when Steve looked out, he saw the vines that covered this side of the castle had grown thicker and more sturdy. Enough for him to climb down and follow the snakes. They took him through the thick of the wood, so dense that sunlight got weaker and weaker.
The snakes led him to a gave with red gemstones embedded into the walls, giving it a bright glow in the darkness. The light from the stones seemed to beat like heart.
Steve entered, but kept from touching them. They looked sharp as knives. They got to an opening at the cave that widened into what appeared to be a living space. And also a center for witchcraft. Steve saw someone moving about on the other side of the room, a clawed hand running across the spines of books on a shelf.
"Uh", Steve cleared his throat. "Hello? I-I was told that you could help me with my problem."
"Yes", the person turned to reveal a nose-less face. Strange vines, or where they tentacles? protruded from them. And Steve realized there were odd, moving vines all around. "Ah, the prince with the ocean obsession."
"It's not the ocean, really. It's-"
"The merman with the hypnotizing voice."
"Yes! But how did you-"
"It's my job to know. People have come from all corners of the world, pleading 'Vecna, I need this', or 'Vecna, I want a spell for this'. I'm very much a charity."
"So, you'll help me?"
Vecna moved around the room, grabbing various things with his vines as he did. "I will."
....."How?"
"You want to find him, don't you? I will give you a spell that will turn you into a merman for three days." Vecna began pouring the ingredients he had into a large cauldron in the middle of the room.
Three days didn't sound like a lot, but Steve was sure he'd know them as soon as he heard him speak. "Alright. Deal."
"Not quite. We need to discuss your payment."
Steve crossed his arms. "You said you were a charity."
"You can't get something for nothing."
Steve rolled his eyes. "Okay, what do you want?" As a prince, he had a little money to burn. And he'd pay any amount to meet his mystery guy.
He didn't feel the vines creeping up on him until he felt something tickling his ears. He cringed and slapped them away.
"Those."
"My ears."
"I require no flesh. What I want in exchange for my magic is your hearing."
Steve touched his ears. "But if I can't hear, how can I find him?"
"He's seen you, hasn't he? After he saved you? Let him find you. And true love is the strongest force in the world. I daresay you could find him deaf and blind. But I'm only asking for one sense. You find him, he confesses his love, and then you two can live out the rest of your lives in bliss."
It all sounded too good to be true. Which was what had Steve still hesitating.
"What happens in three days if I don't find him?"
Vecna pretended to look for another ingredient to toss in so that he could hide his expression from Steve. "If you don't, then you become one of my treasures. Vecna's claws made a clinking sound against the gems on the wall and then Steve understood why it seemed like they were beating like hearts. They were souls. Ones that couldn't come up with whatever sum was needed and paid with their lives.
If Steve didn't succeed, he would become one of them. But if he gave up now, that was all he would be in essence anyway. A shiny jewel in his father's crown. Even if he would be working against time and without the one sense he was sure of, he had to try.
So he nodded. And held out his hand for Vecna to shake. He swooped across the room like a shadow and grasped Steve's hand, then wrapped his vines around his body. It was a horrible sensation but Steve fought his instincts not to struggle. He was brought closer to the cauldron, bubbling and filling the room with a green vapor.
"I want you to focus on his song", Vecna said. "On the sound of his voice."
That wasn't hard to do. Even with leagues of water separating them, it had sounded beautiful. Last night when he heard them above water, it had been the sweetest sound. He closed his eyes and let himself get lost in it. When he opened it, the caludron looked seconds from exploding and Vecna was grinning, and all the vines around were slithering in excitement but he couldn't hear any bit of it.
As jarring as that was, what was happening below his waist was even more shocking. He only had time to see his pants begin to rip and the start of his legs fusing before the cauldron reached its tipping point and exploded. Steve himself was thrust into the air and he was afraid of hitting the roof of the cave. But he kept going higher and higher, through the trees until he was above even them.
And there it was. A mer's tail, in shimmering blue. He had but a moment to admire it when he felt himself fall back towards the ground. He had been shot right above the ocean and while it wasn't as bad as hitting rock, falling from that height had shocked his system.
He knew he had reached the ocean floor; could feel the sand under him. But he didn't fully come to until he felt someone strongly nudging him. He blinked his eyes only to come face to face with the most handsome man he had ever seen.
Part 3
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hidefdoritos · 5 months
Text
Adventures in Stage Costuming
I am Costume Mistress for a play this Friday/Saturday
Had pants for everybody except three guys
We'll call them Landon, Mark, and Joe, because that's not their names but it's close enough for me to remember 'em.
Had everyone self-report pants sizes.
Spent last Saturday in Salvation Army (I know, I know) thrifting pants in the requisite sizes.
washed the pants
kept forgetting to go to rehearsals and have a try-on sesh (adhd go zoom)
Rehearsal today had lunch break
Handed out the pants and told them to come show me.
Landon
(tall, skinny, all leg, 32 x 34)
announces "THEY'RE CALVIN KLEIN!" at his standard volume, bursts into the gymnasium, and slides across the basketball court on his socks.
He does a little spin for me and I approve.
My assistant (fun person who we'll call Lydia) asks, "Can you move?"
Landon breaks into the Orange Justice fortnite dance, with a little extra hip swaggle for emphasis.
(cue laughter from the cast)
(this is nothing less than I expected from a man who once won a cardboard boat race by making a surfboard and kicking his way across.)
Success!
Order him to go put his pants on his special labeled hanger.
(only you are allowed to touch only your special labeled hanger, on pain of death and dismemberment. everyone has been told this many times and They Fear Me.)
Mark
(weightlifter, 34 x 32)
walks in like his legs are chopsticks.
Shirt is not tucked in.
Zipper made it about halfway up
Lydia looks concerned. "Are they buttoned?" she asks.
"Yes," Mark wheezes, and the tone of his voice is one of fear.
(Landon finds this hilarious.)
Mark hobbles in a little spin for me
can almost hear the fabric whimpering for mercy
they are too tight in the everything.
choke down laughter
"Go change. Carefully," I say.
(maybe I can let them out? probably not)
"Do you just need dark dress pants?" asks Mark, voice still strained.
"Yeah?"
"Can I bring my own?"
"Yeah."
task-failed-successfully?.jpg
the goal was to have more pants that the drama department owned
but the more important goal is for him to have pants, I guess.
Order him to bring his dress pants to Monday rehearsal for approval
(and, once approved, to put them on his special labeled hanger which nobody else can touch, on pain of death and dismemberment)
and to bring the ill-fit pants back to me.
will put them in a tote to think about their crimes until next play.
Joe
(track and field athlete, 29 x 32)
(listen, this man has a 29" waist and a 39" hip.
I know women who would kill for a 10" differential.
It's not his most prominent feature, but he's draggin' the wagon.)
(should also emphasize that he's my little brother & I'm not being weird abt it we commiserate about problems of Pants Fit all the time.)
Joe struts into the gym.
The pants fit!
They are a leeetle bit snug in the thighs.
"Can I keep them?" he asks.
He does a little spin for me
taxidermy-fox.jpg
From the back, the fit is more accurately described as "gratuitous."
"Joe, do a squat!" Landon encourages, as he himself charges across the gym into a Newsies jump and almost turfs it.
Joe tries carefully
gets about halfway down
(didn't think he'd get that far)
"Never mind," he says sheepishly, standing back up.
"Go change. Carefully," I say.
(maybe I can let them out?)
backstage
Joe hands me the pants.
He's been interested lately in listening to me ramble about sewing stuff.
I turn Mark's pants inside out
literally just serged together, no extra fabric anywhere
"Rats!" I say creatively, and show Joe how this does nobody any favors.
They don't get to go on Mark's special labeled hanger. I chuck them into a storage tote to consider their crimes until next play.
I turn Joe's pants inside out
praise be to Van Heusen brand
It ain't much, but it's honest seam allowances.
start rambling at him about how it all works
there's a scoatch extra on the outer seams and inseams of both legs
and the center back has extra built in!
The waistband fits him fine but the everything else needs More.
Promise my best work
Joe smiles with hope.
back in my room
never altered pants before
brief moment of doubting why I signed up for this, my sewing abilities, the meaning of life, etc.
* Knuckle Crack *
Turn on a Nicole Rudolph video for fun sewing accompaniment
Decide not to mess with the complicated parts (pockets, front seams, zipper, and the seam intersections in the undercarriage)
Sew the replacement seams first, anchoring the replacement ends HARD in the seam allowance AND in the original seam threads
Cut those OG seam threads and knot them off HARD
The OG threads are a chain stitch sorta thing, so once they're clipped, all I gotta do is pull and they ZOOP right off
(most satisfying thing in my life btw)
head back to gym with newly embiggened pants.
Joe takes the pants. "Do you need me to try them on?"
*looks into the camera like I'm on The Office*
"Yes Joe, lemme see how they work."
He leaves.
oh gosh these better fit
I didn't spend two hours hunting pants in a Salvation Army (I know, I know) and half an hour ZOOP-ing Joe's seams just to be 1 for 3 on the pants actually fitting the actors.
Joe returns.
!!!!!
If I thought he was strutting before
This kid fully dances into the room.
You know how it is when you walk into a thrift store and the sign says "Half price color of the week: Orange" and then you find stuff you love and it has orange tags too?
That was his level of enthusiasm.
"They fit!" he cries.
He does the little spin for me
it's incredible
they fit, no longer gratuitous in the seat, there's thigh space, his knees bend, the waistband stays up without a belt!! definitely need to be ironed but they look So Good
I can't stop smiling
so relieved it turned out well.
Joe's smiling
He does a little Pants Dance of glee.
Gosh. I know he likes them, and dress pants are so hard to find.
"Do you want to keep them?" I offer.
"How much?" he asks, wallet appearing in his hand.
The receipt from Salvation Army (I know, I know) shows $4.59.
I offer "$5 for the pants and $5 for a half hour of labor?" (yes that's too cheap, but he's a college student and also my brother.)
"Look what I've got!" he says, all but throwing a $10 at me.
"Great! I say. "Now Joe, listen closely.
Go change carefully and put them on your special labeled hanger. Only you are allowed to touch only your special labeled hanger, on pain of death and dismemberment."
"Yes ma'am!" he chirps with a salute.
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Text
Now that Eric has no need to court Kilmeny anymore -- for she has agreed to marry him -- he immediately is ready to give up teaching. We are, what, a week and change into the school year? We knew Eric didn't like teaching, but even still. Why did he even agree to stay on for the year? He could just as easily have said no to the trustees and just stayed in Lindsay on his own dime. He has money and the Williamsons definitely like him enough to let him keep boarding with them even if he's not teaching. Also:
True, he had “signed papers” to teach the school for a year; but he knew that the trustees would let him off if he procured a suitable substitute.
Scare quotes: alive and well in 1910.
Kilmeny has agreed to get married in the spring. She continues her streak of being able to actually stand up to Eric by refusing to marry him immediately. This is a good sign for the future, if she's able to continue sticking up for herself and forcing him to accept her refusals. Or she'll get tired of arguing every tiny little thing with him. Who's to say.
Anyway, her stated reason is that she has literally seen, what, six people in her entire life and needs to get used to people gradually before jumping into marriage. (Sidenote: has anyone actually told her who Eric actually is? The Gordons know who his dad is and what his future career is going to be -- have they told her what will be expected of her as his wife?) The Gordons also want her to stay the winter:
“But we want to keep her with us for another winter yet,” explained Thomas Gordon patiently. “We are going to miss her terrible when she does go, Master. She has never been away from us for a day—she is all the brightness there is in our lives. It is very kind of you to say that she can come home whenever she likes, but there will be a great difference. She will belong to your world and not to ours. That is for the best—and we wouldn’t have it otherwise. But let us keep her as our own for this one winter yet.”
The fairy is leaving fairyland and even if she comes back she will forever be changed. Also even setting aside the metaphors, she's never left her family! Of course they're going to miss her! PEI is still at this point somewhat hard to get to from the mainland. There's like trains and boats and stuff involved. They will not see her often.
Eric also doesn't want Kilmeny to go to boarding school. I think Eric should back off and let Kilmeny do what she wants to do.
So Eric writes to his dad and tells him the full story. Instead of replying, Mr. Marshall just up and shows up in Lindsay to interrogate his son. Like David Baker, Mr. Marshall thinks Eric has fully taken leave of his senses. Which, on the one hand, Eric is 24 and behaving wildly out of character. On the other, Eric's line has always been, 'I will know when I have met The One and I will not be swayed from her when it happens.' He is, in fact, behaving exactly as he had always said he would. If you're going to insist that your heart lead the way, your family can't be surprised when your heart picks someone who doesn't come with a pedigree.
Mr. Marshall is genuinely angry though, and basically tells Eric that if he doesn't approve of Kilmeny then Eric's choices are to give her up or be disowned. If Kilmeny is not the second coming of the late Mrs. Marshall then it's all over for both of them.
For the love of god stop tethering Kilmeny to the legacies of people's dead mothers!
So they go to meet Kilmeny, who is very conveniently in full fairy queen glory:
Kilmeny was reading on the bench under the lilac trees when they reached the orchard. She stood up and came shyly forward to meet them, guessing who the tall, white-haired old gentleman with Eric must be. As she approached Eric saw with a thrill of exultation that she had never looked lovelier. She wore a dress of her favourite blue, simply and quaintly made, as all her gowns were, revealing the perfect lines of her lithe, slender figure. Her glossy black hair was wound about her head in a braided coronet, against which a spray of wild asters shone like pale purple stars. Her face was flushed delicately with excitement. She looked like a young princess, crowned with a ruddy splash of sunlight that fell through the old trees.
And, of course, she is beautiful and graceful and dainty and wins Mr. Marshall's approval without even a word. Looks are all that matter when it comes to picking a wife. Kilmeny is beautiful and non-disabled and what else could you possibly want?
The end!
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redspottedsheep · 6 months
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Hi, I saw you are taking requests!
If you want to, could you write something (anything, short or long doesn't matter) of Wind and Four interacting? (Maybe they are the first ones to meet after they go through the portal and they are looking for the other, or something else, like literally anything)
I'm curious how you imagine their dynamic!
I took the idea of them being the first to meet and ran with it, also! this turned out much longer than initially planned, and its up on AO3 for easier reading. Just in case though I'll post it here with the link as well as on my pinned post. Enjoy!
Link to AO3: Of Sailors and Smiths (3794 words) by RedSpottedSheep
What was once a peaceful sailing day turned to rough seas and a rapidly greying sky. Link, of course, was no stranger to rough days at sea. More of his life had been spent on the water than on solid ground. At least that's what Grandma said. Link had no problems with that. The sea was a place he could find adventure and feel free, a place he cherished no matter the circumstances. Like now, fighting with his sail to stay on course against whipping winds while wrestling to get his baton out of the leather pouch on his belt.
Upon managing to grab the artefact, after no struggle at all thank you, and conducting the simple yet beautiful melody of Wind’s Requiem, the sail began to obey and kept him easily on course. Yet there wasn’t much to be done about the violent waters. Now Link’s goal for the day had changed. The current task at hand was to now get back to the shore of Outset Island in one piece.   Link hadn’t had enough time to react before he was being pulled into..whatever that was. Hadn’t had enough time to turn away, to guard himself, dodge, anything. Now he was paying for that negligence in the form of falling straight onto the grassy forest floor in a wave of nausea, a splitting headache, and general disorientation. The day kept getting better it seemed.
Out of habit taught to him by now two years of combat experience, Link had managed to at least try and break his fall, throwing his shoulder in front of him to take the force, and using his arms to protect what he could of the rest of his body. Only after the dishevelled boy propped himself up and looked around did he realise he was no longer at sea. Nor washed ashore the rocks and sand of his tropical home island. No. He was in a forest with tall grass, trees, overgrowth and wildlife. Yep, that would make it a forest. Just as his shitty luck would have it. Taking in the rest of what had to be one of the weirdest situations Link had found himself in yet, he noticed that while he had been thrown into the woods, there was no trace of his boat anywhere in the immediate area, meaning either he’d been taken away from it entirely or it was off at sea most likely never to be recovered. In a flash of panic, Link shot to his feet, now aware of the absence of his baton, one of his most important items. A hasty search through his pouch yielded no results of course, he’d been holding the damned thing and now it was probably in the ocean with his likely sunken boat! 
Becoming thoroughly frustrated, Link began to walk. In what direction, he hadn’t a clue, but the smoke rising in the distance probably had something to do with it. Smoke usually meant civilization right? Maybe. Or was it monsters? Link couldn’t find it in him to care. If it was a village, great, a monster camp, better. A chance to hit something and take out his building stress was much needed and appreciated in times like these. 
The trees had now thinned, and Link could see rows of buildings and bustling streets of far more people than he could count, and of course far more than the population of his small homeland. Still, knowing that he wasn’t entirely alone was a good sign and a step forward for finding his baton and getting the hell out of there. Vendors and pawn shops had seemed the best place to start after stuffing his sword and shield into his seemingly bottomless pouch. Link had figured it best to not come as a threat while he was wandering among the vast crowds, not wanting to cause a panic. Being barely five feet tall was an inconvenience at best trying to navigate the crowd and see the different stalls set up. It took much longer than Link wanted it to, and he couldn’t help the impressive string of curses that tumbled out of his throat when he hadn’t seen his baton among any of the hundreds of  wares being displayed. All that time searching and nothing to show for it. Up until that point, Link had avoided conversation with the shopkeepers or passersby, though now it seemed inevitable if he wanted to figure out where he was. ‘Here goes nothing,’ Link thought to himself as he walked up to the nearest vendor, a man in his middle ages selling a wonderful assortment of shit the hero of winds had never seen. 
“Hey, where is this place?” Surrendering his pride in lieu of information seemed like a bad deal, but it was all Link had to go off of when the shopkeeper answered with nothing more than “Hyrule Town, Kid, your parents around anywhere?” Link should have anticipated this. Of course he would be taken as nothing more than a lost child. He could handle himself! Why did everyone assume he was helpless? A few frustrated breaths later, and Link had made his way to one of the various knights guarding what Link quickly identified as the path to what he figured was Hyrule castle, as different as it was. “I need to speak to Te-Zelda, let me through.” The armoured woman fixed him with an unimpressed gaze. “And who are you to demand an audience with the princess?” She asked, seemingly humouring him. For what, Link had no idea considering no part of the interaction indicated a joke. “Link, the Hero. Can I just get through? I really need to talk to Zelda.” Apparently, the mention of himself struck a nerve in the guard, and she tensed her sword grip. “What did you misunderstand about staying away until you get your head screwed on right? Changing your look and waltzing in here demanding to speak with the princess is an utterly stupid move. Now get out, hero, I should be throwing you behind bars for coming in here.” 
The hero’s title being spat like an insult was just the beginning of the confusion Link felt. Why was the guard suddenly so hostile? Changing his look? Get his head on right? Was this guard crazy? She had to be mistaken. “Okay, okay! I’ll leave.” Link raised his hands in mock surrender, unable to help the sarcasm that dripped from the gesture. Any intention he had of leaving was now tossed aside. Link wasn’t leaving until he had answers. Sinking back into the masses proved to be an easy task, and while he did Link searched for someone else who seemed a good source. Eventually he found the keeper of one of the pawn shops he had looked at earlier, approaching the man with his most inconspicuous facade, which, admittedly, wasn't all that convincing. Still, though, the man turned his attention to Link expectantly. “Uhm..excuse me, what happened to the hero? Link? I wanted to hear more but my parents wouldn’t tell me..” Link was grateful for the first time to be on his own. If anyone knew who he was and heard this horrid act he’d never be able to live it down.
 The shopkeeper only sighed with a shake of his head. “There’s good reason for that, boy. He may be the hero but af’er he came back, poor kid’s been off his rocker, never leavin’ that forge, always ramblin’ to himself, don’ go ‘round gettin too curious ‘bout him, for yer sake. Can't help but feel a lil’ sorry for the lad though..” 
Trying his best to ignore the man’s infuriating way of speech, Link’s eyes widened as he spoke, from trying to keep up with all the new information and maintaining his ‘innocent little kid’ act. Now his main problem was trying to get more out of the man without prying. 
“Woah.. so.. where is the forge? I wanna explore it!” Staying calm and not breaking what little character there was proved a challenge. Link, by his own nature, was expressive, and he was still barely any closer to figuring out what he’d done to these people. The shopkeeper leaned in close, his voice barely audible between the people busy with their own conversations. “Listen ‘ere, boy. Don’t you be goin’ down to that forge. Stay away from it unless you wanna get yerself killed. Take the east or west exits an’ go home.”
With a brisk nod and a dramatic shift in character as Link let his act be dropped, he turned to leave, not bothering to say anything more to the man who was clearly left stunned by the sudden change of demeanour.
Right, so all he had to do was whatever the pawnbroker told him not to. Now to find an exit to the South. He’d gotten stopped and berated in record time at the north exit, which he saw a familiar Hyrule Castle beyond. So south it was. As it turned out, though, actually finding anything in the marketplace was a challenge, though at least slowly shoving his way through the crowd gave him time to think. 
So far, Link only knew that the people of this town thought he was batshit crazy, and a recluse, had something called a forge, and that he looked different even though his appearance hadn’t changed at all since he first set out two whole years ago. Somehow it managed to be useful and also do jackshit to help him make any sense of the situation. Perhaps if he found the forge he’d get answers. 
Finally, he reached the exit and promptly noticed people rushing their children along and glancing warily out of the stone arch marking the entrance. Leaving, there was now nothing for him to go off of, simply a once frequently used dirt path being overtaken by plants and a towering stone chimney not far away. 
Locating the forge was alarmingly easy, now Link stood knocking loudly on the wooden front door, then banging his fist on the metal side entrance upon receiving no answer. Well, surely a batshit crazy guy pretending to be him wouldn’t mind if he let himself in, right? Link applauded his sense of self preservation. 
After a few minutes of struggling, Link was able to get the main door open, calling out to ensure he was truly alone before he continued making his way throughout the organised chaos that was the home. Of course, he'd closed and locked the door behind him, but that didn't stop him from spinning defensively at every slight sound, regardless of whether it was him or the persistent scampering he could hear up on the exposed rafters. Now there was nothing left for him to do but wait for who would likely be his demise to arrive. And take what he could of the shiny gems and shards of precious metal scattered everywhere.
“Red, get your stuff! We need to go!” Blue’s impatience was shining through this particular day. That's not to say the smith was upset at anything in particular, just- eccentric. Not that Vio could say anything about that, they all had their quirks and irregularities. Those differences made it difficult to stay merged for long, made them feel as though their head was splitting and their ears were ringing, and they were haphazardly stitched together. Well, perhaps putting it that way would seem dramatic.. After all they were perfectly capable of coming together as one, fully functional hylian. 
“But that’s not exactly what the kingdom sees, is it?” 
Green smiled, though it was bittersweet. Only now realising he’d been thinking aloud, Vio nodded absently, mentally making sure he had everything. Dagger, book, spare bookmark, pen, Four Sword, check. It seemed everyone was now ready to leave their second, tinier home.  
Minish village had become to feel safer than their own home in South Hyrule Field, just a short walk away from the life they’d worked so hard for, only to be discarded by the very people they fought to save. It had become commonplace for them to shrink, split and lose the time catching up with the Minish. Splitting was a tricky thing, as Link, they were fine working together- hours and days of teamwork practice had ensured that- but no matter how close of a team they could be, disputes and feuds seemed unavoidable at any given time. Like now, when Blue and Green had an impressively stupid argument about something neither Vio nor Red could figure out?
“It's getting late; let’s just merge and go, we still have a few things to do at the forge when we get back,” Green reasoned. 
He was met with an unimpressed Red. “Why can’t we just stay split? I like being able to see you guys rather than just hearing everyone!”
“Because last time someone saw us split we almost had a mob at our door.” 
Blue butted in, already leading the way with Vio toward the clearing they used for splitting and shrinking during the numerous visits to the woods.   Now merged as one and with the usual headache, Link returned to his natural size. Instinctively the colours settled into their usual places, Green at the forefront, everyone else also at the forefront, all of them ready to jump in for input if the need came, Which it often did, even without other people around. It took all of them to be Link, and that was something they wouldn’t try and change if they could. 
“What all do we need to get done at home?” “We have to finish that spare practice sword, our old one is worn down too much to be worth fixing” “I liked the old one” “We also need to fix that buckle on our shield, when it broke i'm not sure though” “Don't forget about the frayed embroidery on Green’s side of our shirt”   Link mumbled aloud as he made his way through the all too familiar path through the forest back to the forge. It was something they didn’t realise he did unless someone pointed it out, whether it be one of him or someone externally. Granted talking to someone other than himself had become a rarity after their second quest. Apparently magically becoming four and having lasting effects made for a bad reputation. Though, they did get enough interaction between Zelda’s letters -she couldn't be seen with them any more unless it was for hero things- and the minish. Grandpa Smith’s health had been declining, putting it generously, he rarely visited and could only write when he could gather the strength. 
Link was fine on their own, because they weren’t on their own. They stayed accompanied by themselves, and poured everything they had into their work.
Link pushed his straight hair away from his face with his now signature headband, and looked down at their tunic to inspect the intricate golden design stitched into the green quadrant. Blue had been right, the thread began to lift and now looked noticeably messier than he remembered. That would have to be getting fixed today before it drove Blue up the wall. This was the third time they’d put the repair at the bottom of their list of priorities. 
While walking his usual path through the undergrowth, a small silver glint caught the corner of his eye. Upon further inspection, Link picked up what looked to be a conductor’s wand, though this item in particular felt foreign, and it was clearly imbued with magic, unlike any Link had felt before. Though who would leave such an item discarded in the woods? Very few ventured this far away from the town and fewer still had ever even been exposed to magic, much less any of this calibre. It was something to look into more later, and Link carefully wrapped the item in a spare cloth before placing it into his pouch.
Returning the Four Sword to its place across his back as he walked out of the forest, Link continued west to the forge. Though a small, disquieted feeling followed him, urging his body forward in a steady haste. Something felt amiss, and Link’s feeling was validated when he saw light coming from inside the familiar dwelling despite the late hour. Another good sign was probably the loud clang of metal being dropped to the ground followed by a less than quiet string of curses. Whoever had broken in had to be either inexperienced or careless, things that didn't usually favour stealth. 
With a small grumble, Link readied his sword and one of the many concealed daggers they carried. It wouldn’t be difficult to arm oneself in a weapons forge, so he figured his best bet was to be ready to clean crimson off the wall. One fed up sigh later and Link took hold of the newly crooked doorknob and pushed the door open, stepping toward what was his first and final straw for the day.
It didn’t take long for Link to find the intruder, a mere child by the looks of him. Round, expressive features telling of his age paired with blonde curls, blue eyes and skin tanned by blaring sun. Those same features spun around to face him as soon as the forge door was opened. Before the child could reach for his own sword’s hilt, the Four Sword was already pointed at the boy, dangerously close to his chest. The windswept boy raised his hands in surrender, showing the soot he’d accumulated from no doubt snooping through the smith’s tools. 
“You have about a minute to explain what you’re doing here; what are your intentions?” Link growled, ignoring the voice inside telling him to lower the sword he was pointing at the kid. 
“Are you Link?” He asked carefully, lowering his hands to his sides and trying not to show his blatant shock both at the situation and the person standing in front of him. He looked around his own age if not younger if height was the basis. “Who’s asking?” the smith asked suspiciously. 
“I came here to see if you could help me, I’m Link.” Blue eyes subtly widened;  “Help? Don’t play games with me, you broke into my house and rummaged through my supplies! That's not how you ask for help!”
“I'm not playing games! I got pulled through a purple mass at sea and ended up here. I don't know how to get back home and when I asked around the town everyone started talking about me..you? saying how the hero went insane or something!” For a moment the sailor could swear he’d seen the colours in the other boy’s eyes swirl a multitude of shades before settling on a violet hue. The sword pointed at his chest slowly lowered and he was met with curious interest. 
“The sea you say? There are no harbours anywhere near here. Hyrule is far inland..” The sword returned to rest on the smith’s back and Link let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Follow me and we can talk about this in the house.” With unexpected speed the smith turned and without waiting left the forge, the sailor hurrying behind him. In the main room, the two settled across from one another at a small table. 
“To answer your question earlier,” the smith began, “yes, I am Link, and I’m Hyrule's hero. Now tell me, where exactly have you come from?” 
“Me too, I’m called the Hero of the Winds, I live on Outset Island in the Great Sea. I was sailing when a storm hit and I was tossed into a gateway of some kind. I got thrown around some and ended up in the woods. I lost my boat and something of great importance to me, so I asked around the town and now I'm here.”
“Great Sea? I don't think such a thing exists. Perhaps it has something to do with the gateway you mentioned.. Though I’ve never heard of a Hero of Winds, there are tales of a hero before me, however, the Hero of the Skies. He was said to be an incarnation of the hero long before current times.” 
“Incarnation huh? So.. I'm a hero..after you? So you mean to say that gateway took me into the past?!” The sailor questioned, scrambling to make sense of the new information. “It’s unlikely, but magic does exist, so not impossible. Still, it’s strange. We may need to get Zelda involved, I’m worried this may be the work of Vaati, or worse.” 
“Vaati?- Wait, did you say Zelda? How would she be here? She didn’t go through the gateway with me.” The sailor questioned. “You have a Zelda too? Could it be possible that- nevermind, This time has a Princess Zelda as well, though I doubt they are one in the same. She may be able to make sense of this. As for the item you mentioned, what exactly was it if I may ask?”  
“A baton, it’s an artefact I use given to me by my mentor. I can control the wind with it, I need to find it before anything else but the town didn't have anything even close to it.” 
  The smith raised an eyebrow, silently digging through his bag and retrieving the wand he’d found on the forest floor, unravelling the cloth and setting it on the table. “Could this be it? I found it on the ground walking home.” When the Hero of Winds stared wide eyed at it, Link second guessed for a moment until the item was snatched with a cry of relief. “I thought it was lost at sea! I can’t believe you found it, I looked for hours in the town and it was in that forest the whole time! A small smile graced the smithy’s face before it morphed into a worried frown. “The gateway magic is worrying, what you described sounded to me like dark magic, we need to get to the castle and inform Zelda.” Settling back into the conversation, Link nodded. “Though, I thought the people here hated you? When I asked to see Zelda I almost got arrested.” 
With a darkened expression, the Minish Hero shook his head. “My last quest had some..lasting effects. The townspeople are simple minded and untrusting. Zelda was there though, she tried to get them to understand but they wouldn’t budge on the matter. We’ll have to go through my father to get into the castle with his escort.” Both heroes stood, readying themselves. As they prepared to leave for the castle, the smith turned suddenly and deadpanned, “Before we go, put back all of the materials you pocketed.”
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thatbrokenpromise · 12 days
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humbly requesting a sickfic starter pack, for research purposes of course
(how does everyone react to being sick/others being sick, whatever you can think of <3)
Asking the easy questions, I see LOL. Sounds good why not.
Skyloft: He's very used to being sick at this point, and has 1001 ways to entertain himself (carving, weaving, doing needlework, literally anything) but probably doesn't have anything on hand so he'll be more than a little stir-crazy. He much prefers to be taking care of others, and is extremely patient even if someone's cussing him out.
Minish: Hates being sick. Ball of blankets that hisses at you for disturbing him, even if its with food. He has generally no idea how to handle other people being sick, although he'd probably cuddle if someone needed it and he trusted them enough to touch.
Kokiri: Will deny he's sick right up until he passes out. Absolute misery to take care of, will sneak out as soon as he feels well enough to try and possibly sooner. Hates taking care of others, and has zero patience for it, but would cooperate with providing distraction if asked.
Outset: Will deny he's sick right up until he passes out. This goes great with often being on a boat, yes. Misery to take care of, will sneak out as soon as he feels well enough to try. Finds it much more fun to take care of someone else and likes to be the one fussing instead, and is pretty good at providing distraction in terms of tall tales and chattering and cuddles.
Chief: Will deny he's sick, although not quite to the point of passing out. Sullen and prefers to take care of himself if he can manage it, extremely impatient. Won't sneak out, but WILL sit up for hours reading and taking notes when he shouldn't. Extremely patient taking care of others, although he's a little brusque about it and not super inclined to cuddle anyone unless he thinks they actively need it to stay put.
Ordon: Will deny he's sick, although not quite to the point of passing out. Sulks massively. Sometimes turns into a wolf just because he's so bored and wolf brain makes it suck less. (Ilia is incredibly annoyed every time he does this.) Doting caretaker who's happy to take care of everything someone needs. Has absolutely spent entire days just holding his sick kids and not putting them down because they asked him to.
Four: Will deny he's sick right up until he's passing out. Impossible to keep still, will escape the moment he can try. Would rather suffer alone than let anyone see him weak. (If one is sick, *all of them* are sick, excluding Shadow who can't get sick.) Absolute shit caretaker to anyone ~~including~~ but themselves. Impatient and more likely to tease than help, but good for entertaining someone who needs to stay put if they find him funny.
Prince: Will deny he's sick almost to the point of passing out, then prefers to recover alone. Incredibly prickly about who he allows near him, and bad-tempered about it, although he won't try to escape unless triggered. Can be a very sweet caretaker, but he's particular about who he'll offer it to and is even less likely to cuddle than usual under the circumstances (unless it's someone's he's very close to: Chief, Smith, Kokiri or his Zelda.)
Rabbit: Absolute sullen mess. Won't deny it but will still push himself to ridiculous lengths because he's impatient with recovery. Sulks massively once he admits he's sick. Decent caretaker, but also a bit impatient there and more inclined to teasing care than fluffy care.
Smith: Also a sullen mess. Will bundle herself in blankets and sulk it out,but is grudgingly happy about getting taken care of. Very much wants to cuddle, but tends to be shy about asking for it. Does not really know what to do about taking care of someone else, but would try (and mostly model it off Ravio's example when taking care of her.) Very sweet and attentive, and has a strong tendency towards worry.
Far: Extremely sensitive to when he's getting sick and tries to hide it, but he doesn't deny it. He'll dial himself back and become very quiet and take it easy and try to fend it off, and probably will be extremely uncomfortable with the group because his usual way of coping is "Hide until it passes" and he can't. Does not know how to take comfort well. *Does* know how to *give* it and is extremely doting and attentive and fusses about someone else if they seem remotely accepting.
Hateno: Will deny it until he passes out; also tends towards "Hide in a corner until it passes" and will be an absolute bitch when he can't. Hissy ball of blankets, even over food because he'll be mad he can't cook for himself. Moderately decent at taking care of someone else, will fuss and spend a LOT of time cooking for them and offering blankets; not super keen on cuddling unless he trusts someone. VERY keen on cuddling if he does.
Hope that answers it!!
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quickspinner · 2 years
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You’re Playing My Song
I know soulmate fics aren’t everybody’s jam (especially in this fandom) but I love them, so here you go! This concludes my birthday postings today and I hope you enjoyed them! I’m very sorry to all the people whose prompts I didn’t get to, I promise I’m saving them to get to eventually.
Luka groaned and dropped his head in his arms on his makeshift desk. His phone beeped, and he rummaged blindly with one hand for it.
The message was from his friend Brielle, and it made him grin. Help I need to get out of here meet me at the park in 20 min
The message wasn’t unwelcome. Luka looked around his normally clean room and scowled at the mess of crumpled papers around him. See you there, he texted back, and then rolled his chair back, heedless of the crunching noises under the wheels. Luka kicked a few more papers on the floor out of the way and shoved around the piles on his bed until he had dug up a small handful of the guitar picks he’d been losing in the mess all day. He counted quickly, decided he had found enough, and stuck them in his pocket. Luka grabbed his guitar, dug in a trunk for a moment for an old worn blanket he knew was stuffed in the bottom somewhere, and then made his escape, bursting out on deck into the sunshine and open air. He didn’t usually feel so stifled on the boat, but today was definitely a day where he’d rather be out and moving.
The bike ride to the park was just what he needed, and he could feel his muscles loosening as he rode. By the time he reached his destination he already felt a million times better. 
“I couldn’t stand to be inside today,” Brielle declared as Luka walked up, and Luka agreed as he flapped out the old blanket. Brielle plopped down on it and immediately brought her camera up to her face, laying down on her back and aiming it up into the tree branches that stretched above them. Luka settled himself on the blanket as well, opening his guitar case. It was a beautiful day, sunny with just enough breeze to keep things comfortable, and Luka could feel the frustration and annoyance that had been sitting in the back of his mind all day start to dissipate. Maybe he could come up with something worthwhile now that he finally felt like he could breathe. His composition assignment could wait . Luka wanted to play literally anything else right now.
He had just finished tuning and warming up, only half listening to Brielle talk about her newest project, when a bellow from across the park made both Luka and Bri jump and look up. “Heads up!” a tall boy yelled as a ball hit the ground a few meters short of their blanket. It bounced and then rolled towards them.
“Sorry!” A girl jogged up to them, wearing a pretty pink and white sundress that didn’t look at all suited to playing ball in the park, and flashed them an apologetic smile. “Kim doesn’t know his own strength sometimes.”
She was pretty, with pink cheeks and gorgeous eyes framed with thick lashes, dark hair that shone in the sun, tied back into two tails with cheerful pink ribbons, and a wide, uninhibited smile that made Luka smile in return, though she wasn’t smiling at him. She caught the ball Bri grabbed and tossed back to her. “Thanks!” 
Then suddenly the girl’s eyes met his and she was smiling at him, for one breathless, heart-stopping moment. She met his gaze for only a moment before she blushed and looked away, waving her thanks for the returned ball. Luka turned his own eyes down to his instrument, embarrassed to have been caught staring. His fingers struck a chord without thinking, and then another, and they sounded—right. His focus narrowed to the guitar, until he felt Brielle’s elbow in his ribs.
“Don’t you think, Luka?” Bri said pointedly. 
“Hmm?” Luka jerked his head up, blinking at his friend. 
Brielle rolled her eyes at him. “Knew you weren’t listening.”
Luka’s gaze strayed back to the girl in the pink and white dress where she was back to playing ball with her friends. She looked so happy and alive, the perfect embodiment of the beautiful day around them. Bri punched his arm and Luka jumped. “Sorry,” he said, running his pick down the strings absently. “Just thinking about a song.”  
***
Marinette bounced on her toes, hands clasped together as she hovered behind Nino’s chair. 
“Dudette,” he laughed, as he poked at his music program, “Chill.” 
“When have I ever been chill, Nino?” Marinette demanded, clapping her hands down on his shoulders and shaking him slightly. “Hurry uuuuuuup.” 
“Okay, okay, you don’t have to be so violent. All right, here it comes.” Nino hit a button and a vertical line traveled across his screen, and as it met the notes he’d programmed in, music played from his speakers. Marinette held her breath, listening intently, until Nino poked her to remind her to breathe. “That’s it,” Nino said, when the playback was finished.
“I didn’t recognize it,” Marinette frowned. “Did you?” 
“Nope,” Nino shook his head. “Sorry, it doesn’t sound like anything I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s wonderful, though,” Marinette sighed, and Nino chuckled. He held out his hand and Marinette put a pink USB stick in his palm. Nino stuck it in the slot and downloaded the song onto it.
“You want the sheet music too?” Nino asked, offering her the pages where he’d transposed the song. 
“Sure,” Marinette shrugged. It might come in handy. “Thanks for doing this, Nino.”
“Hey, no problem. Good luck, dudette.” Nino grinned, and Marinette thanked him again before saying goodbye. 
She walked home with the USB stick clutched tightly in her hand and the sheet music under her arm, as she stared at the lines and notes that curled around her wrist and up her forearm. The mark had appeared only a few days ago, and she was buzzing with excitement about what it might mean. 
Sabine looked up when Marinette entered the bakery and smiled. “How did it go? Was Nino able to help?”
“Yes,” Marinette beamed, waving the USB stick. “I know what it sounds like.”
“That’s wonderful, dear,” Sabine said, giving her a quick hug. “But remember, you must be patient. You have your whole life to find your soulmate. It’s fine to be alert, but you can’t put your life on hold waiting for them.” 
“Of course not, Maman.” 
Marinette bounced up the stairs to her room, plugged the USB stick in her computer, and played the little snippet of electronic music again. It sounded familiar, she thought, as she laid a finger to her lips in thought, but she couldn’t place it. Maybe she was just imagining that she remembered it. She played it again and again, until she was humming along with it. She looked down again at the music staff curling around her arm. She wished she’d noticed when it first appeared, but she really wasn’t sure. Still, it had, and that was a good sign, right? Whoever they were, they’d been close by. Surely they’d meet again. Someday , she thought, and then followed her mother’s advice and turned off the music, still humming the tune to herself as she pulled out her homework.  
***
“Wow,” Juleka murmured, looking at the words on Luka’s wrist. “That’s…not helpful.” 
Luka rolled his eyes and grinned, pulling his hand back to shove her shoulder. “Whatever, it’s fine. It’ll happen when it happens.” 
“Still,” Juleka said, turning to watch him as he walked by her and flopped down on his bed. “It’s exciting, though, right?”
I guess so,” Luka mused. “Kind of annoying though. It should like, tingle or tickle or something when it shows up, so you know to look around.”
Juleka snorted. “You could try being more aware of what’s going on around you,” she pointed out, and Luka rolled his eyes.
“I’m plenty observant, thank you,” he said, raising his eyebrows at her in a way that he hoped would convey he had plenty of observations about her if she cared to hear him.
“Except when you’re working on a song,” Juleka shot back, but then made a hasty escape, head dipping so that her hair fell across her face.
Luka sighed, and let his head fall back. He’d get her back later, he promised himself, as he raised his arm to sneak one more look at his mark.
***
“Thanks for doing this, Adrien,” Marinette said, standing awkwardly behind him as he arranged the well-worn pages of sheet music on the piano’s stand.
“No problem,” Adrien smiled up at her, and Marinette’s heart leapt into her throat for a moment. Adrien sat down, opened the piano, and glanced up at her again, patting the bench. Marinette slid in next to him, and then fidgeted a little as she worried she’d gotten too close. 
She held her breath as Adrien placed his hands over the keys. He looked back at the music, and Marinette’s whole body tensed when the first notes rang out. Marinette snuck a look at the staff on her arm, but it looked the same as always. Adrien played the melody again, with more confidence this time, and it sounded beautiful in the full tones of the piano. Marinette let her breath out slowly, and looked at her arm again. She hadn’t really expected anything to happen. Surely if Adrien was the one they would have figured it out long before now. 
It helped, though, to know for sure. Just one more confirmation her decision was the right one. 
“Want me to play it again?” Adrien asked, looking at her. 
Marinette shook her head and smiled at him, sincerely even though her chest was tight. “No, I think that’s all I needed. Thanks, Adrien. I better go so I don’t make you late to meet Kagami.”
“No problem,” Adrien said, closing the piano. “It’s a nice song. I hope you find it someday. I’d like to hear the rest of it.” 
Marinette only nodded and smiled, and followed Adrien as he walked her out, barely even hearing his good-natured small talk. After she was out and the door closed behind her, Marinette looked up at the bright blue sigh, taking in a deep breath and holding it for just a moment. Then she let it go, and started walking home. 
***
“No luck again tonight?” Juleka asked as Luka shut the door behind him and walked through the living room towards his bedroom.
“Of course not,” Luka snorted. “Quit asking me that. It’s not why I went out tonight. I just wanted to play. It’s not why I go out any night.”
“Aw, Luka,” Rose cooed, her neck craning to follow him as he passed. “Don’t be like that! It’ll happen some day!”
“Don’t care,” Luka called back, rolling his eyes as he closed his door, shutting out the girls and the sound of their movie. He sighed and flopped himself on his bed, looking down at his wrist for a moment before he rolled his eyes again and rolled himself over to glare at the wall.
He knew Juleka and Rose meant well, and he was happy for them, he was. It was just that he didn’t care, really. He’d find his soulmate whenever, and if he didn’t, that was okay too. The constant prodding about it was something else, though, and he was currently entertaining fantasies of moving into some tiny hovel of an apartment just wide enough for his guitar where he could afford to live without roommates. He’d been fine for years before the mark appeared, he'd been fine in the years since, and he’d be just fine for as long as it took. 
***
“Sabrina, I’m going out for a bit,” Marinette called to her assistant. “I need a walk to clear my head after that client meeting this morning.” 
“All right, Marinette,” Sabrina said cheerfully, busily arranging fabric and color swatches on the mood board Marinette had asked her to put together. “Don’t forget to eat while you’re out.”
Marinette giggled. “I will.” 
“And don’t forget your meeting with—”
“I remember! I’ll be back in time!” Marinette escaped out of the door before Sabrina could remind her of anything else, taking a full breath of the outside air. She walked towards the park next to the school, feeling the tension in her shoulders start to ease. 
She was strolling by one of the fountains, thinking about the way the water fell and comparing fabrics in her mind, when she heard it.
Marinette stopped in her tracks, turning, her heart suddenly beating fast and loud in her chest. She knew that song . She brought one arm up to her chest and curled her other hand around the staff on her forearm. She revolved slowly, searching for the source, and zeroed in on a street musician perched on a cement wall, his guitar case open at his feet. His head was bowed, bobbing slightly, as his fingers moved, playing the song that she knew so well. 
Marinette took a deep breath, and began walking slowly towards him. His messy hair hung into his face, black and tipped with blue. She could see the strong line of his jaw, the slope of a sharp nose, and she found herself smiling. She wished she could see his eyes. There was a cost draped beside him, a tie hung loose around his neck, and he’d shoved his sleeves up his forearms. She couldn’t see any sign of his mark, but that might not mean anything. They weren’t usually as large as hers, after all. 
She took another few tentative steps forward. 
***
Luka had been just as relieved as his students when the bell rang and they stampeded out of his class. It sucked to be stuck inside on a day like this, and he didn’t blame them for being bored and antsy, though he’d done his best to keep class as laidback and cheerful as possible. Torn between being responsible and grading papers, and getting outside while it was so nice, Luka had grabbed his guitar and made a break for it. Spending his planning period outside would mean he’d have to make up the work tonight, but he’d be more relaxed for his later classes. Given the way this last class had been, maybe he could hold the afternoon classes outside if the weather was as nice as it looked. 
He sat now with one foot propped on the opposite knee, and played for the sheer joy of it, without worrying about anyone who might be listening. It seemed like people always approached him when he was playing, whether he was actually busking or just messing around, so he never took it for granted when he had a few minutes to play what he wanted. 
Sure enough it wasn’t long before Luka sensed someone drawing near, but something in his tuning didn’t sound quite right, so he reached down into his case to clip his tuner onto the neck of his guitar. “Hello,” he said, when the expected shadow fell over him. “Can I play anything for you?” he asked, thumbing each string in turn. There, that one. He adjusted his tuning peg and tried again. “I’m just warming up, I’ll be ready in a minute.” He played the familiar melody again, the one that sounded like sunshine and soft eyes and bright smiles that he'd never been able to get out of his head. 
“You’re playing my song,” a soft voice next to him breathed, and Luka tried not to roll his eyes.
“Oh yeah?” he said, trying to sound cheerful but he knew it came out flat. He just wasn’t in the mood for this kind of banter today. Realizing how ungracious he sounded, he sat back and looked up, a soothing platitude dying on his lips as he stared into a sweet face framed by dark hair, with beautiful eyes that rivaled the ones he remembered from all those years ago. The woman looking down at him wore a pink and black skirt suit instead of a sundress, and she was far more mature than that far-off memory, but no less stunning. “Oh,” he breathed, and then cleared his throat as he set aside his guitar. “Um, s-sorry, what were you saying?” 
“You’re…playing my song,” she repeated shyly, and extended her wrist to him. Luka looked at it, his jaw dropping at the sight of the clef and staff winding around her arm. He looked back up at her again, at her blushing cheeks and the shy hunch of her shoulders. Wordlessly, Luka slid over, making space on the concrete next to him. She sat down slowly next to him, brushing silky black hair back out of her face as those stunning eyes flicked to his face and away. Luka reached for her hand, but hesitated before he touched her. 
“May I?” he asked, and at her nod, he took her hand and gently turned her wrist to look at the staff spiraling around her forearm. “What’s your name?” he asked almost absently as he followed the trail of chords. He recognized it immediately, he knew it, but he still picked up his guitar. 
“Marinette,” she said softly. She continued to hold her arm still while he set his fingers to the strings. and with a glance at her, he slowly plucked through the series of chords. Marinette sucked in a breath as she watched color bloom along the staff, flowers curling around the clef and trailing a pattern of vines along the edges, while a watercolor wash swept across the background of the staff itself in blues and greens. 
“Holy shit,” Luka  muttered, with a disbelieving little huff as he shook his head. He met Marinette’s eyes again and began to grin.  “Sorry, I just…I didn’t think this was ever actually going to happen.” 
Marinette tore her eyes from her arm, lowering it into her lap. “Why?” she asked, and he extended his own forearm to her. You’re playing my song was written across the inside of his wrist. 
“Do you have any idea how many times people have said that to me?” he laughed. Marinette giggled along with him, and as she did, flowers began to appear on his tanned skin as well, curling around the Y as the vines stretched in a frame around the words, and a bolder, more jagged wash of color in pinks and reds filled in behind the letters. 
Luka felt a rush he couldn’t explain, as he looked from the sudden colors to the woman sitting next to him. “Marinette, right?” She nodded. “I’m Luka,” he said, trying to soften his voice and his smile as he offered his hand for her to shake. “I’m glad to meet you, Marinette.” 
“Me too. To meet you, I mean. Um, obviously.” Marinette turned a charming pink, and Luka had to lean in to hear her next words. “Um, could you…could you play it again? Please?” 
“I’d love to,” he grinned, letting go of her hand and picked up his guitar. “It’s my favorite.”
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kikiiswashere · 2 years
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Climb
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I went camping and hiking this weekend. While clambering over a boulder field, my hiking partner mentioned how much forearm strength is needed to pull yourself up over rocks. Naturally, my thoughts immediately went to Silco and his forearms. As one does.
Here is a quick, modern AU, fluffy one-shot about climber Silco and his GN!climbing partner.
Warnings: None, SFW
Pairing: Silco/GN!reader, established relationship
Note: As great as my weekend was, I come home sick, so please forgive any spelling/grammar errors. My brains feel all mushy and my body can't decide if its hot or cold
---------
After hauling your dusty, sweaty body over the ledge, you paused to breathe and take in the view. Below you: forest. Swells of green leaves jostled in the breeze under your feet, sounding as much like the ocean as it looked. Intermittently, tall cones of evergreens and firs poked their heads up from beneath the green waves.
Speaking of the ocean, it lay beyond the trees and past the craggily rock shoreline. Deep and steady, despite the breeze. Fishing and sight-seeing boats dotted the water. You were currently too far up the mountain to smell the brine.
The sun shone brilliantly, warming your cheeks and the rockface you were currently perched on. Closing your eyes, you tilted your face up towards the sky and took a deep, satisfying breath in, rib cage stretching pleasantly as your lungs filled to capacity.
“Time for a break?”
Silco’s voice broke you from your reverie. Eyes squinting open, you watched your climbing partner plop beside you, long legs dangling over the edge with next to yours.
“Yeah, I wanted to take in the view anyhow,” you replied, nodding out at the horizon.
Silco nodded and shouldered off his backpack. He unzipped it and pulled out two granola bars, handing one over to you. Smiling, you took the offering. After a moment of quietly munching and gazing at the sight laid out in front of you, Silco looped an arm around your shoulder. A butterfly beat its wings against your heart and you leaned your head against his shoulder.
 You and Silco had been seeing each other for almost year, having met at a climbing gym in Zaun. You had moved to the city for a job and didn’t know a single soul. One night, while scrolling through the Groupon app on your phone, an ad for a local rock-climbing gym caught your eye. You considered yourself outdoorsy and athletic. Downloading the coupon, you made plans to go the following evening.
You arrived at the gym after work, and immediately doubted your decision. The room was large and bright, tall jagged plastic rocks peppered with neon hand and foot holds arced and jutted all around. People decked out in harnesses, tight shoes, and chalk scurried up the walls like spiders. Who were you kidding? Rock-climbing wasn’t for you. Hiking? Scrambling over boulders? Camping? Yeah, you could do that. Not defy gravity and laugh in its face.
Before you could slide back out onto the streets, a young man (a gym employee by the looks of his shirt and confidence) stopped and greeted you. His name was Silco. He was tall and lean, with bright blue-green eyes, dark hair swept back in a bun, and forearms . . . his forearms . . .
Your focus on his forearms was quickly gave way to the smile he gave you. Endearingly uneven teeth with what looked like a small chip in the two front ones. With that smile, he corralled you back into the gym and showed you the ropes – literally.
You were delighted to find that you took to rock-climbing like a fish to water. . . or, rather, a goat to mountain. What was more, you enjoyed it! What was even more, you enjoyed gym manager Silco’s company. He seemed to enjoy yours, too. Enough to ask you out a couple months after joining the gym.
Several successful dates, climbing trips, and moving in together is what had led up to the current camping trip you were taking together. The first few days you did aided climbs. Today, you had convinced Silco to do a strenuous hike instead; your groin had chafed pretty badly during the previous day’s climb and you needed a break from a harness. The hike still took you both up the face of the mountain, but instead of needing equipment, the trail guided you over large boulder fields and up rockfaces with the use of iron rungs.
“Ready to go again?” Silco asked.
“Sure,” you nodded, getting to your feet. He held out a large hand and helped you to your feet.
Reshouldering your packs, you both began back up the trail. Easy conversation flowed between the two of you, the soft crunch of stone beneath your hiking boots coupled with an easy breeze created a comforting atmosphere. Following the blue blazes painted onto the trees and rocks led you both to the next ladder up the mountain.
“After you,” Silco said, presenting the way up with a flourish of his sculpted forearms.
You shimmied up the ladder. It was a longer than the previous, and curiosity got the better of you. I peeked down to see the ledge below and Silco staring up at you, a lilting smirk on his lips. You snorted and continued up.
“What are you laughing at?” he asked as he joined you on the ledge above.
You rolled you eyes and said, “Why am I getting the feeling that you’re having me go up the ladders first so you can look at my ass?”
Silco barked a laugh and stepped closer, crowding you against the mountain. “And what if I am? You stare at my forearms while we climb. Can’t I watch a part of you I admire?”
You chuckled, grabbing his forearms and pulling his closer. His hands cupped your shapely rear as your face tilted up to capture his lips.
------
Note: Thanks for reading! The doctor told me that comments and reblogs will cure what ails me <3
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Text
Now forty-five, he has hardly changed. The same narrow, suspicious mouth. Hair slicked severely back to fight its tendency to curl. The same stubborn set of the shoulders, like a man carrying an invisible cross. He has gained weight since I saw him last. Although he will never really be fat, there is a perceptible roundness in the region of his midsection that points to a less austere regime. This suits him – he is tall enough to need a little extra bulk – and, still more surprising, there are lines around those cool grey eyes that might almost hint at laughter.
Literally imagine describing your local priest this way and still thinking that you're in love with your husband who's back in paris in his boat or whatever
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messerkampf · 2 years
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emoji ask for Janie: 👁️ EYE, 🥞 PANCAKE, 🍃 FALLING LEAF, 🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL, ⚾ BASEBALL, 📎 PAPERCLIP, 🔥 FIRE
👁️ EYE - what colour are their eyes? do people notice their eyes? is there anything special about them (shows emotion easily, literally magical...)?
Janie has light eyes-- nearly grey. It can be pretty striking on her, and her eyes are pretty expressive!
🥞 PANCAKE - what is their comfort breakfast?
Janie eats a lot because she needs to eat a lot (she's both tall and pretty heavy set, at least pre-prison), and food in general is wonderful when you're not questioning where your next meal comes from. Breakfast is usually her favorite meal in general-- pancakes, waffles, eggs, bacon, etc-- but her favorite is always mowing her way through a box of cereal. Day or night, nothing beats just chillin doing nothing with a bowl of something too sugary for your own good.
🍃 FALLING LEAF - do they enjoy being in nature? what is their favourite outdoor activity?
Janie's a big "wander around and walk everywhere" type. She likes exploring and getting out, and she'll do it on foot (or motorcycle) anytime she gets the chance. She also really likes being out on the water. Jomo's boat is always a blast (even when he's going fast enough to bounce everyone out of their seats)
🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don't want to show other people?
She's gotten a bit more violent since her time in the corporate prison, partially out of necessity-- she had to assert herself sometimes. She's not a big fan of that part of herself, but writes it off as a survival necessity. She has no problem with violence or even killing people who deserve it in her eyes when it comes to justice, but she's a bit quicker to snap and threaten now. She hates this. She also thinks she's a selfish person, and doesn't like that about herself.
⚾ BASEBALL - can they play sports? what is their best position if they play a team sport? what's their strong suit (speed, power etc.)?
I feel like she had a lot of interest in Urban Brawl as a kid, but Raymond got her to stop watching. She's pretty into hockey-- hasn't really played it much, but would love to, and loves to watch.
She's big (maybe 8'3"?) and a heavy hitter and pretty calm, so she can be intimidating (as long as you don't know her and realize she's really chill). So she'd fair well in a defensive position in sports I think. She'd make a good goalie for sure.
Instead of Duncan, she gets a cyberware arm while in Heoi-- her arm had been bugging her anyway from old injuries, so she figured she'd go all in. Now she can lob grenades back at the enemy like the best of 'em
📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact.
She broke her nose enough as a kid that she had to have surgery to correct some of the cartilage while still living with Duncan and Raymond as a kid.
🔥 FIRE - do they have any self destructive tendencies? what habits do they have that hinder them from becoming their best self?
Janie will weather anything for the people she loves, but that means she never brings up things that bother her that she thinks "aren't worth it". Why bother when she can just adjust and deal with it? She only does this for friends/family, and mostly Duncan and Raymond, but the lack of honesty and communication takes a pretty hard toll on her. She thinks she's selfish for feeling like she needs to ask for "silly" stuff, because logically she thinks she can just deal with it and get over it.
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