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shoutogepi · 4 years

Text

Orange Lamborghini

Bakugou Katsuki

word count : 6.3k

[ ✘ (nsfw!) ]

themes : lil toucha ass play, car sex, baku being a damn tease

bio : You keep telling yourself you’re done with Bakugou, but the last time is never really the last time, is it?

author’s note : i know i said i was gonna post a tamaki fic but it’s a certain violent blonde’s birthday tomorrow!! (happy 4/20 ayy) so here you go ;) … also this is a part two to my other baku fic, “fuck you i just might”, but you don’t have to read that one before this if you don’t wanna!

side note : Y/H/N is your hero name, and reader is a pro hero working at the same agency as Bakugou. ALSO he smells like caramel bc of his quirk, dont fight me on this >:(

also available on AO3 here

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

“🅂taying late again?” Reo, the owner of the coffee cart stationed in the lobby of the hero agency, quizzes as he throws you an accusatory look.

You stand before him, hand awkwardly looped around your elbow and a small, bashful smile on your lips. He totally knows. But you appreciate that he never outright says anything, and you know for a fact that he would never peep even a whisper to anyone. You are probably his most loyal customer, and you’d like to think he considers you a friend after all this time— not to mention, all the coffee you’ve purchased from him.

Reo gauges your meek expression, and he only smiles as he pours the creamer into the dark brown liquid. “They must be working you hard… I’ve never seen a top hero work such long hours, staying even after everyone else has left. Well, almost everyone, that is.”

Yeah, he most certainly knows.

“What can I say?” You blabber, perhaps answering him a bit too quickly. “Work is my whole life. I don’t have time for anything else, I guess.” The sentiment is a little awkward but full of candor, and when the words leave your lips you’re surprised to hear them carry such a solemn tone.

The man nods in understanding, handing you your cup of coffee before he grabs a cookie from the glass display case and offers it to you as well. “On the house,” he states and you share a long showdown of a gaze with him before you reluctantly pluck the treat from his outreached tongs.

“Thanks Reo, you have a good night now.” Bowing slightly to the elder, you turn and take your leave, quiet steps echoing in the otherwise empty foyer.

Just as the elevator doors open to take you back up into the higher levels of the building, Reo calls out to you. “You know, you should find someone that’s just as hardworking as you. Maybe they’re closer than you think.”

Flustered by the old man’s advice, you only nod and bow again, jamming your thumb into the button. A sigh of relief escapes you as the doors conceal you from his prying eyes. That man has a sixth sense, you swear.

The elevator doors open and you briskly walk through them, along the corridor and around the corner before you finally reach the conference room. Taking a deep breath, you slip through the doorway, eyes trained on the table half-covered in paperwork. Bakugou is sitting behind the spread out files, his red eyes jumping up to regard your approaching form. Placing the cookie wrapped in napkin on the table, you nod at him as you turn and open a cabinet, fingers pinching a fresh manilla folder and shutting the door with a bump from your hip.

“Working late, huh?” His rough voice splits the silence hanging in the air, and when you turn to look at the blonde, he’s lounged back, corded bicep hung carelessly over the back of the chair and a cocky look on his face. But his eyes hold another emotion as they give you a once-over, one that makes your insides stir in both memory and apprehension.

You nod again, a coy smile gracing your lips as you take a sip of your coffee, your own gaze lingering on the muscles that poke out from the hem of his tight tank top. “You too?” You ask, even though the answer is obvious.

Bakugou’s hand twirls the pen he was previously using in rapid, effortless circles, and his knee bounces slowly underneath the table. “You gonna eat that?” He answers your question with his own, slanted eyes flicking towards the cookie resting on the tabletop just an arm’s length away from him.

“You want it?” You can’t help but be surprised— you always expected Bakugou to be an uppity-ass, no-junk-food kind of guy.

“It’s Reo’s, right?” The blonde replies gruffly, thick fingers reaching out to grab the confection. “Shit tastes like heaven.”

Your eyes widen as you connect the dots. Why, that sly little…

“Don’t work yourself too hard,” you chirp out as you turn on your heel, ready to retreat back to the safety of your office.

Bakugou’s scarlet eyes return back to your departing figure, a thin brow raised and a snarl of a smirk splitting his lips. “Aw, ‘ya worrying ‘bout me now, Princess?”

“Fuck you,” it flows from your mouth, years of foul-mouthing built up into a knee-jerk reaction. Your eyes widen as his turn to slits, that stupid smirk morphing into a gleaming grin.

“Don’t tempt me.”

A wave of heat washes over you from head to toe before settling between your legs. You don’t bother to stick around, your feet carrying you out of the conference room as Bakugou’s harsh laughter trails behind you, echoing down the hallway.

Closing the door to your office behind you, you lean your back against it as you slide toward the floor, shutting your eyes tight as the memory washes over you. He’d taken you— right there on the desk you’re supposed to be working at— and ugh, it was fucking good. Shit, he was good. Dropping the folder on the floor your fingers fly to your temple, rubbing your skull in a useless attempt to push the memory away.

Alright, if you’re being honest… that was just the first time. There were, well, a handful of times following the initial incident, much to your now chagrin. There was that time in his office on the other side of the building that had a perfect view of the ocean, which you had become very familiar with while your face was pressed up against the glass and he ravaged you from behind. There was also that time when it was around this time of night and he had thrown all your paperwork off of the conference table and taken you right there, pounding into you like no tomorrow. Yeah, there were a few times you’d found yourself naked before him, pussy gripping his thick cock as your lips clashed with his.

But last time was the last time. You can’t just keep fucking him like this, all over the agency in such scandalous secrecy… the two of you hiding this gruesomely passionate beast you co-own, feeding it only once the the coast is clear and, oh, he feeds it so well… every meal a juicy, fat steak dripping with desire and euphoria, encasing your senses in a silky smooth film as his calloused hands glide all over your— No!

You shake your head abruptly, derailing your sinful train of thought. You agreed that last time was it, fin. And… the time before that, too… and maybe the one before then as well— well, it doesn’t matter because last time was actually the last time. Pulling yourself together, you make your way toward your desk and begrudgingly begin your work.

By the time the folder is full, the clock indicates that tomorrow has begun and thus, it’s time for you to go home. Without a glance towards the conference room, you make your way toward the elevator, letting out a long sigh as the weight of the day slips from your shoulders. Jabbing your thumb into the button, you lean against the railing and check your phone out of habit. Two new messages from Jirou pique your interest, and you eagerly open the chat log to see what she’d sent.

Jiji 🎸: Girls meeting at the usual tmrw night!! Hope you can make it :)

Jiji 🎸: We all miss ya girly, you’ve been working too much lately ❤️

A part of you feels bad for misleading your friends. It’s not that you aren’t working late these days… it’s that your workload is not the only thing you’re doing when you stay after hours at the agency. Your friends had started to notice all the late nights you’d been spending at your job, and they’d begun to pout when you would bail on their bar-nights. They understood that you were working, and you hoped that they didn’t harbor any further suspicions. You had not told a single soul about your rendezvous with Bakugou Katsuki— the only person who seemed to have an inkling of your relationship, if you could call it that, was Reo.

Sliding your phone into your bag, you decide to try to make it tomorrow night. The last time had been the last time with Bakugou, so you would definitely be free tomorrow night, especially after finishing up the paperwork you had just completed minutes prior. With a wave of determination washing over you, a small smile appears on your lips as you fiddle with your staff key-card absentmindedly, wondering what you should wear when tomorrow night comes around.

When the elevator dings and opens its doors, your feet take you out of the steel chamber and into the cement confines of the parking garage. At this time of night, the only way in and out of the building is through the parking garage gate, seeing as the custodians lock up the front doors long before midnight. But you don’t mind, because the night air is fresh and cool on your face, and the subway is only a three minute walk from the garage exit. Just before you can reach out to tap your key against the automatic gate, an ear-splitting screech roars behind you and you jump, shooting straight up into the air.

Whipping around, headlights nearly blind you as they point right into your eyes. Squinting at the obnoxious light, your vision widens again when you recognize the outline of a sleek and shiny Lamborghini. An orange Lamborghini, to be precise. And a license plate with “G-ZER0” unmistakably tacked onto the front bumper, which sits almost flush against the smooth cement floor.

“Oi, Y/H/N,” a blonde head pokes out from the driver’s window, narrowed red eyes glaring at you. But his lips are curled into a smirk, clearly enjoying your frightened-animal-like reaction to the startling revv of his engine. “You’re blockin’ the way.”

Your hands indignantly turn into fists at your hips, a frown and a furrowed brow marring your expression as you turn around. Smacking the key card against the scanner you strut directly in the middle of the pavement for as long as you can before the road widens. Once the car can easily fit on either side of you, you move over to the sidewalk, arms crossed over your chest as the low car matches your pace, engine purring loudly.

The window next to you rolls down soundlessly, and the blonde leans slightly over his console to crane his face up in order to see yours. “Where are you goin’?” Bakugou inquires, and you can feel his intense gaze on the side of your face but you do not turn to acknowledge him.

“Subway.” You reply shortly, eyes trained straight ahead of you. Three minutes until you reach the subway station, exactly two corners and two blocks away.

The car roars as the angry blonde hits the pedals again, exhaust crackling with a ferocity similar to a big cat’s. The sound is deafening but you don’t waver, feet placing calmly in front of one another. “At this hour?” He pauses for a moment, long enough for you to let your guard down and chance a look at him. Which is a mistake, because goddamn he looks sexy as hell sitting in that exorbitant car, one hand thrown atop the wheel with his bicep on display, the other arm perched atop the console between the seats and those vermillion eyes blazing into you. It’s only a mere second that you give him, but he knows your resolve flutters as you look away quickly, your pace increasing to make him press on the gas just a hair harder to keep up with you.

Your breath catches in your throat when he speaks again, your heart pummeling your ribcage with vigor and a claminess lining your palms.

“Get in.”

It’s neither a question nor a statement— it’s a demand. One that has heat rising between your legs, the embers that had been so surely extinguished suddenly igniting furiously with but a scrap of sustenance. You grit your teeth and keep walking, determined not to get in the car. If you get in that car… you don’t know where you’ll end up. Or, you do know where you might end up, and that would be very bad. It takes a lot of your willpower to spit out a simple, “No thanks.”

Bakugou grumbles at your stubbornness, the vehicle screeching again as he demonstrates his displeasure and the unnecessary horsepower underneath his hood. “Come on, Y/N. Just get in,” he presses, his voice not as harsh as it was just a moment ago.

But you hold your own, flipping a stray lock of hair over your shoulder. “Aw,” you smirk, humoring him for a millisecond as your eyes flick over to him, “‘ya worrying ‘bout me now, Boom-Boy?” Your lips curl into a satisfied smirk as he visibly bristles in the corner of your eye.

“Damn it, I’m trying ‘ta— tch,” Bakugou grumbles and cuts himself off before he apparently decides he’s not going to play the familiar game of cat and mouse with you, “Fuck this.” Tires squealing on the rubble, the sleek car leaves you in the dust, sharply turning the corner ahead of you before disappearing into the night, the noise of the thundering engine echoing through the tall cityscape.

You glare at the corner ahead of you, unimpressed. He was trying to— to what, put you in a pissy mood? Hell of a job he did, if that was the case. Frown sinking into your cheeks deeper than before, you continue your way to the subway station while you pull your phone out to distract you from your miffed thoughts. Turning around the very same corner the orange sports car had rounded just a minute ago, you nearly drop your belongings when a pair of rough hands grip your biceps.

Relief washes over you for a moment when you meet Bakugou's irritated expression, before horror spreads through your limbs as he shoves you into his open passenger door. Without much of a fight you’re inside the vehicle, fruitlessly yanking the door handle only to find it’s locked shut. Sliding back into the luxurious leather seat, you scowl at the hero as he slams his door closed and snags the black seatbelt over his torso. “The fuck, Bakugou?” You hiss, attempting the door again to no avail.

“Hey, easy with that!” He growls, a thick finger flicking the pedal shifter into drive and slapping his boot against the gas. His eyes meet yours as a wicked grin lifts his lips. “Buckle up, Princess.”

Your head smacks against the back of the seat as the car lurches into a velocity that no doubt exceeds the speed-limit. Your hands scramble over your shoulder and you frantically grab the metal clip, unceremoniously shoving the belt across your lap to find its destination. Once the joint clicks into place, your eyes fly to the man beside you, pure rage boiling underneath your skin. “You asshole! I’m gonna rip your dick off!” You yell, the slightly ajar windows letting air zip into the cabin and howl in your ears, your hair flying around your face.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me,” he quips dryly, voice deep but holding an infuriatingly potent tone of amusement.

You shut up at that, heat rising to your cheeks as you look out the window defiantly, away from him. Your eyes trail over the interior of the car, curiosity winning you over as you your fingers trace the smooth features lining the inside of the door. There’s a soft underlighting beneath the seats, glowing an acidic green to compliment the orange of the exterior in a display that screams man with an enormous ego. You roll your eyes, adjusting your legs to point away from him as much as possible.

“I didn’t know you had a Lamborghini. This how you get into your slutty fangirls’ pants? Take ‘em for a ride in the Baku-bile?” You ask, shooting daggers into his sharp jawline. The premise of him fucking faceless girls in the very seat you’re in makes you want to throw up in disgust.

Bakugou snorts at the name, scarlet eyes snapping toward you before settling back on the road. “Don’t need to show ‘em my car to take ‘em for a ride,” he answers snidely, a sharp canine gleaming at you from his smirk.

You don’t acknowledge his reply, one arm crossed over your chest and the other gripping the side of the door harshly as the city flies by outside the windows. You wonder where he’s taking you, because he never asked for your address, but you sure as hell aren’t going to start up a conversation again with that dickwad, so you just simmer in your displeasure instead.

The ride is surprisingly smooth and you would never admit it, but the feeling of him stepping on the acceleration makes your heart thud, adrenaline coursing through your veins and washing over you. You try your best to hide your excitement with every boost of speed, but you don’t catch Bakugou’s eyes lingering on your tiny smile every time he accelerates. You almost whine when the car slows and you pull into an empty parking lot, apprehension settling in your chest as the engine cuts and you’re left in silence, with him. A public park stretches before the lot, empty swings and monkey-bars twirling leisurely in the wind.

He doesn’t say a word, so after an incredibly long and awkward minute you break the ice. “Bakugou… what are we doing here?” You turn to him expectantly, lips melting back into a frown as you give him a once-over. He’s still in that tank top, which you curse for being a part of his hero costume. Why the hell did he have to choose something so flattering?

The blonde casts a side glance at you, leaning back slightly in his seat. “Wanted to have a chat with ‘ya,” he says, turning to look at you fully. The car seems like it is not big enough, for he’s only a short distance away from you and looking handsome as ever. The park before the windshield is illuminated by only the moon and starlight, casting a soft glow onto his smooth skin. The stubble on his jaw scatters tiny shadows across his chin, and those scarlet eyes peer into yours deeply. The moment is full of unrestrained tension, until he speaks again. “Coulda done this in the garage but your stubborn ass wouldn’t gimme the time of day,” he grumbles, effectively releasing you from his trance.

You blink and look away before returning your attention to him, a sour expression on your face. “Okay, dipshit, what did you wanna talk about?” You huff, arms crossing over your chest defensively. So you might have gotten yourself into this, but only a tiny bit.

You’re left hanging, expectantly eyeing him with a measured gaze. His eyes are locked with yours, but his mouth doesn’t move, not a semblance of a word on his lips. You give him that ‘eyes widening and head jutting forward, I’m waiting for you to talk’ look, but still he’s quiet. Tossing your hair over your shoulder impatiently, you let out a frustrated sigh as you close your eyes. “Look,” you start, turning back to him ready to flame his ass, “I don’t—”

Bakugou’s lips are on yours, his hands clutching your jaw and pushing your mouth into his while he leans forward over the console between the seats. A moan tears from your lungs, the familiar scent of caramel crashing over you as he fills up your senses, fingertips weaving into the hair behind your ears. His tongue thrusts into your mouth, greeting yours like a lover desperate to hold his beloved, caressing and rolling and dancing.

Suddenly your hands are on him, one around his back and pressing him toward you while the other threads through his silky soft tresses. A groan rumbles out of him as you pull against his scalp, one of his hands slipping down the back of your head to hold where your neck meets your shoulders, squeezing the sides of your throat gently. An embarrassing mewl floats out of you at that, a string of saliva connecting your mouths as you both gasp for breath.

His red eyes twinkle at you mockingly, a sultry snarl on his lips. But Bakugou doesn’t dare say a word, instead claiming your lips again with his own, sucking in your bottom lip and biting gently with his pointy canines. The hand on your neck remains strong, while his other hand slithers down your chest, groping your breast with enthusiasm and his thumb roving over your already-hard nipple, which he can feel through the fabric of your skin-tight hero costume and bra. He moans at the discovery, fingers eagerly flying to your side and unraveling the zipper there, watching as the skin of your exposed chest becomes illuminated in a mixture of moonlight and the green glow emanating from beneath the seats. Tugging the wire to rest atop your tits, he nearly growls at the sight of them, diving face-first toward you and wrapping his mouth around a nipple. You buck into him, falling back uncomfortably onto the door, but he just crawls onto his seat and leans further into you, red eyes darting up to catch your wanton expression.

Desperately gripping at the shreds of your sanity, a tiny part of you screams out at the wrongness of the situation. “We shouldn't… fuck, Bakug— ohhh,” you whimper as he nibbles at you, your heart rate skyrocketing in desire as you close your eyes, trapping your trembling lip between your teeth. The rationale is pushed away, the only thing you can pay attention to being the way Bakugou’s mouth feels latched onto you, and the hand traveling down your torso to tease between your legs. His rough fingers prod at your cunt through your leotard, expertly locating your clit through the cloth and focusing extra attention there. Simmering tendrils of heat burst through you and you cry out, legs weakly drawing his wide frame closer to you.

After a moment Bakugou sits back in his seat, pulling you with him. It’s a little rocky, not a perfect transition, but you make your way to sit on his lap nonetheless. His large hands palm your tits roughly, pinching your nipples as his tongue wrestles with yours, your moans leaking into his mouth. His body jerks in surprise as your hips begin to roll against his, and you can feel just how bad he wants this too, rubbing into you against your thigh. It only makes him touch you harder, leaning down slightly and becoming lost in the heated kiss. A hand trails down your waist to grab a handful of your ass, cupping the flesh before he slaps it harshly, then holding it in his palm again as his fingers dig into your skin. He drinks up every noise you release, like a starved man receiving his first meal in forever. He pulls away to kiss down your neck, tongue licking a stripe down your throat before his warm mouth lands on your skin, nipping and lathering and sucking.

“This is,” you gasp, coming up for air and that scrap of sanity surfacing in your mind again, “We shouldn’t be doing this, we— we said that last time was the, ahuh-ahh, last… last time.”

Bakugou sucks harder against your neck, his hands on either ass cheek and pulling your bottom against him. The friction of his cock against your core, even with your clothes separating you, makes your head spin and your voice die out. “You want me to stop, hah?” He grumbles against your throat, slick with his saliva. He rolls your hips against his particularly hard, and your hand reaches out to latch onto his shoulder as your pussy twinges in your panties.

You cannot reply, only a high-pitched whimper tumbles out of you because suddenly he’s pushing aside your leotard and panties, digits dipping into your humiliatingly wet entrance. His fingers easily glide up and down your slit, thumb flicking cruelly against your clit as you double over, nails breaching the skin on his shoulders.

“Doesn’t seem like you know what you want,” he comments, voice gravelly and timbre. His other hand rests on your hip, keeping you from grinding against him. He’s looking up at you, eyes darkened with lust and that haughty grin splitting his lips.

You glare at him, eyebrow twitching at his torment, mouth wavering as his fingers continue to tease along your sopping folds. After being with him so many times, you know what he’s waiting for, but you’re absolutely torn; a moth drawn to the flame yet wary of being burnt. “Please, Bakugou,” you murmur, eyes begging him to give you more.

Bakugou’s brow quirks upright, a single knuckle pushing into you and rubbing against your velvet walls. “Please, what, Princess?” He drawls out, almost purring at having you in his favorite position. That being, you, desperate for his touch.

You groan, throwing your head back as another knuckle slides inside, two wide fingertips stretching your cunt so infuriatingly shallowly. You try to move your hips but his grip is iron on your waist, and a long whine falls out of your mouth. “Just— Pleaseee Katsuki,” you beg, not wanting to say the words he truly wants, but not giving him nothing as his name leaves your lips so seductively.

His nostrils flare as he exhales, shifting underneath you as you feel his cock twitch against your leg. “I thought you wanted me to stop?” He growls, tone low enough you can feel his words shake his lungs. They shake something within you, too.

“No,” you breathe out, placing your lips softly against his before pulling away, your eyes boring into his, “I want this, I want you so bad.”

Bakugou groans as he drives his fingers into you knuckle-deep, curling his fingertips and rubbing against your insides. You moan like a whore at the sensation, his thumb still working on your clit clumsily as he pumps his fingers into you. His lips capture yours again, the hand on your hip jumping up to grab onto your neck again and push your lips harder onto his.

A searing heat ebbs through your body as his digits dutifully work within you, and you can’t help but begin to drop your hips against his hand, grinding onto his fingers without restraint. Bakugou clearly appreciates that, a loud moan ripping out of his lungs at the novelty and his fingers press harder into you, colliding into that spongy spot deep inside. You sob at the intensity, pleasure wracking through you as the angle only makes it easier for him to hit that spot— again, and again, and again— until white shapes flash before your eyes and you’re clutching onto him, screaming out as ecstasy thrums through your entire being.

After a minute of your pussy fluttering around him, Bakugou’s fingers pull out of you, and you finally open your eyes to see him looking at you like you’re the hottest person on the planet. “Fuck,” he snarls, lip twitching as he lifts his hips, tugging down his black pants and briefs half-way down his thighs. His heavy cock smacks against his abdomen, looking pale and pretty in the low lighting, glistening with a bead of pre rolling down the side of his length.

You lick your lips at the sight, the desire to shove him into your mouth overcoming you. Bakugou catches your reaction, a low chuckle reverberating his chest and making you glance at him. “I wanna suck you off,” you say quietly, looking over to the passenger seat and wondering if you could do it from that position, because you certainly can’t do it from where you are now.

“Thas’kay Princess,” he mumbles, grabbing your chin and forcing your lips to meet his once again. His tongue glides over your lip slowly, his other hand smacking your ass roughly before he grabs the inside of your thigh, spreading you above him. “That can wait. Need you right now.”

His words send a different kind of shiver down your spine— the kind that was the whole reason why you’d told yourself you needed to stop fucking him in the first place. But right now, in this moment, there is no way you’re not going to fuck him. You’d already come this far, you might as well just indulge yourself in him.

So you do, and you both let out a breath of satisfaction as you rub your dripping cunt against the underside of his length. You lather him up, slickening his member in your arousal from back to front before you press your lips onto his, soft but passionate, and you welcome him inside with ease.

Bakugou’s head falls back onto the headrest as his hands lay slack on your hips. He’s reclined, but his red eyes jump between your face, your tits, and your cunt that sucks him up so greedily as you begin to bounce above him. His mouth hangs open slightly as you find your rhythm, your hands ripping up the bottom of his tank top to lay your palms on his chest and his abs, a thumb scratching through his kept and dark happy trail. “Hah— fuck, Y/NNN,” he moans, closing his eyes to succumb to the pleasure for a moment before he forces them back open, refusing to miss out on such a dreamy sight. Memorizing your body, willing himself to remember each moan and blissful expression you give, storing it away so he can burn them into his spank bank.

Once he’s had his fill of the wondrous sight, he sits up, mouth sucking in your nipple as his hands still your hips, grabbing the flesh there and wiggling to adjust himself underneath you. Ecstasy shoots through you as he takes the lead, thrusting up harshly to prod deep inside your womb, stretching you out and rubbing so deliciously against your g-spot. “Oh, god, Katsuki,” you wheeze as he just goes faster, thick and muscular thighs providing enough means to continue like this for who knows how long. Just as you begin to feel your orgasm build once again, his pace slows, and you’re about to complain before a long finger is thrust into your mouth.

Bakugou groans as your tongue coats the digit in spit, not needing instruction. “You gonna be a good girl for me, Princess?” He questions before he takes the finger out.

Your arms fold around his neck as you nod and kiss him again, drunk on his lips and his touch. He welcomes the tender moment, a hand planting on your ass and spreading you again before his wet finger meets your asshole, making you jump into him with wide eyes. “Ka—”

His lips pull you back in, silencing your hesitance as he begins to thrust his cock up into you again, pace measured and slow. The roll of his hips provides a new type of pleasure as his cock drags against your inner walls, your clit rolling on his pelvis. You quiver on top of him, hole puckering as his finger rubs around your rim. You whimper when he pushes inside, the small stretch foreign and stinging. But he doesn’t push it any further, just continues to lazily grind up inside of you, his tongue playing with yours. He only breaks away to whisper praise to you that makes your pussy shiver around him, “Good girl, you’re sucha good girl Y/N.”

Before long the digit is up to the second knuckle, and you’re a moaning mess above him. The feeling of his finger in your ass, with his cock stretching and pushing in and out of you— it has your eyes crossing in pleasure. The thin wall separating his cock and his finger continues to rub exquisitely on both sides, sending waves of fuzzy bliss coursing through your limbs.

The extra penetration seems to also be affecting Bakugou, for his thrusts begin to pick up as he starts slapping up into you with renewed ferocity. The stimulation from your pussy and your clit already have you clenching, but then he starts to push his finger in and out of your ass slowly, and you’re holding onto him for dear life, your head on his shoulder as you mewl into his neck. You can feel your orgasm approaching, and so can Bakugou, who nuzzles your face a bit before he kisses you again. Your lips dance sloppily, your body jostling as he pounds into you from below, and you begin to whimper as your cunt tightens around his cock.

“Still want me to stop?” He hisses, rough palm clapping across your ass cheek.

“Fuck no,” you pant, planting your knees on the seat beside his thighs and bucking up and down in tune with his pace.

Bakugou groans at your initiative, knuckle sliding deeper inside of you and gauging your reaction as your shudder against him in pleasure. “You like a finger in the ass, hah? Fucking slut,” he snarls as he rubs the digit inside of you, eliciting a low moan from the depths of your lungs.

You’re bouncing on his lap as best as you can, your head skimming the top of the car’s interior while you claw at his shoulders. “God, Katsuki, mphhh—” The added pressure of you sinking down as he ruts up is almost enough for you to cum, and Bakugou knows exactly how close to the finish line you are, grabbing your jaw and tugging your face to hang directly in front of his.

You brow furrows and your heartbeat hastens at the intimacy, passion crackling between the pair of you as his vermillion orbs burn into you. You don’t want to let him see such a vulnerable part of you, but he starts to slam into that spot deep inside of you mercilessly, determined to show you how good he can make you feel. Your orgasm tears through you and an overwhelming heat blasts into your body like wildfire through dry grass. A broken shriek releases from you as your eyes slam shut, limbs shaking, nails diving into his traps, and toes curling in your shoes.

Bakugou gasps as you constrict around him, moving his hands to clasp onto your hips tightly, throwing your body down to meet his as he pistons into you. Skull falling backwards limply, your tongue lolls out like a bitch in heat, his actions dragging out your mind-numbing climax delightfully long. He launches at the exposed skin of your neck, teeth sinking into your throat hard enough to leave dark bruises there, moaning shamelessly into your flesh as his thrusts become quicker, needier. “S-Shit, where should I— ‘m gonna—”

Your fingers rush to his hair, snapping his head backwards and his eyes widen in surprise, but you smother his open mouth with yours immediately, your tongue plunging into his wet cavern and claiming him as your own. Your hips hurl onto his with finality and the blonde stiffens beneath you, trembling fingers pressing into your skin. A loud groan rattles both of your bodies as his load spills into you, coating your womb in his sticky release as you continue to drop onto his searing cock slowly. When he comes down from his high he squeezes your waist gently to signal you to stop, sitting back with his jaw hung open slightly, laboured and choppy breaths making his sculpted chest rise and fall sharply.

You let him pull you into his embrace, his large biceps caging you against his chest as he tries to catch his breath. It’s peaceful laying in his arms, the post-orgasm bliss thriving and filling the entire cabin of the vehicle in a hot and sweet scent. Or maybe that was just Bakugou— you subtly sniff his skin and smile, the caramel-like aroma from his exertion wafting off of him. He’s warm, and somehow even though his muscles are rock-hard beneath you, his embrace is soft. You nuzzle into his neck as his fingers glide over your moist back, arms locked around your waist.

Neither of you say a word, two heartbeats thumping rapidly against each other as you enjoy each other’s presence. The both of you desperately cling to this moment of serenity, knowing that soon enough you’ll have to go back to normal, and this will have just been another “last time.”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

no one asked for this but i did it anyway 🤪🤪 happy birthday blasty 💥💚🧡

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

#mhmm ive been thinking about this for awhile #hope it was alright!! i know nothing about cars nor car sex LMAO #especially not lamborghinis lol #bakugou fic #bakugo fic #mha fic #bnha fic #bakugou katsuki fic #bakugo katsuki fic #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #mha smut #bnha smut #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my fics #my fics katsuki

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bakugohoex · 3 years

Note

Could I request a jean and s/o birthday thingy my birthday is in a few days and since we're in a lockdown again I can't see my family I read a lot of your writings and they're all awesome it would really make me happy if you could write one for me 🙈

“happy birthday, baby”

pairing: jean kirschtein x female reader

cw: modern AU, fluff, implied nsfw and just pure love

word count: 1600+

a/n: happy birthday to you, hope this request can bring some sort of comfort through lockdown, it’s all a mess right now and lockdown has really fucked us over. this is also an emergency request as it’s a birthday one so i thought i’d do this one now and continue on with my normal request order tomorrow

summary: in which it’s your birthday and jean spends the day celebrating with you

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

This man spends the whole night preparing the living room of your apartment

He will literally sneak out from your shared bed leaving a pillow for you to cuddle and start getting everything from his car.

Lockdown had hit you once again and you were unable to celebrate with your family.

Baby had seen how sad you had looked on the phone with your parents and had begun planning everything from there.

Ordering so much crap and making sure it came the next day, he had to usher you to go on a designated walk whilst he shoved everything into his car.

This boy takes multiple trips in the cold with a mask and hoodie on bringing everything up.

So fucking sweet right.

He even has a cake, which he got icing for and wrote happy birthday Y/n.

Be warned the cake looks shit with the red icing.

A horror scene but he tried.

Balloons every fucking where.

He literally had streamers and balloons with your age on them.

This man is too good (how is reader getting so much shit for their birthday and i had to spend mine at home).

He had everything set up for the day, calling your family to set up a call the next day at the designated time.

This man has it all sorted, the pancakes for the morning, the presents for you, hidden behind the sofa and the special dinner he was going to make for you.

This man is just too good for his own good.

Ofc at the end of the day, he’ll treat himself to some dessert and make you feel so fucking loved.

This man would fuck you so good, like baby boy take a chill pill or you’ll get her pregnant.

He don’t care (breeding kink?).

The sound of muttering made you wake up, the early morning sun hit your face but even then, it was cloudy and cold since January was a cold month. You grabbed the other side waiting to see your boyfriend Jean, but he wasn’t there. A soft yawn coming from your face, you checked your phone seeing the gazillion messages, smiling at all the messages.

You got up, wearing Jean’s shirt that warmed you up a lot more than you had expected. Moving to the bathroom, just as you walked back out Jean noticed you about to move into the living space, “woah, woah, woah, where are you going? Get back into the room.”

Jean had pushed you back into the room, “happy birthday Y/n, yeah...have an amazing day, love you.” You mocked after he had dismissed you back into the room.

Hearing shuffling outside, the doors opened, and Jean came in with the pancakes, “happy birthday, baby.” You smiled seeing him with an apron on and a plate of two pancakes.

“Thank you.” You spoke gleefully moving towards him, you kissed his lips softly, tasting the sugar knowing he probably had some out of hunger.

Sitting you on the bed he let you lean against his frame, putting the pancakes on your lap, “why can’t I go into the living room?”

“It’s a surprise, be patient princess.” He kissed the top of your head, you both eating and talking. It felt like a good start to the day and had already made you feel warm and less empty than you had felt the night before.

“You can’t come in until you wear your best clothes and make yourself even prettier.” He gleamed out having already showered and ready to change himself.

You sign doing as your told, it was quick, and you wore the dress Jean had said he’d liked, the long black sleeve dress covered you up and you wore tights due to the extreme weather and knowing how cold the apartment got in the afternoon.

Jean walked back seeing you, he stood in awe at the door, one hand at the top as he leaned forward admiring you, “you look beautiful, baby.”

“You’re being extra nice.” You snicker standing up and going in front of him.

“It’s your birthday, I’m supposed to be nice.” You laugh going on your tippy toes and giving him a soft peck. “Come on.”

He makes you go in front of him, his rough hands on your face covering your eyes, you directed you, making sure you didn’t bang into anything. Before finally you were both in the living room, the balloons and streamers cascaded down the walls. The gold and pinks filled with love and his emotion, “keep them closed.”

Feeling his hands leave your eyes, you kept your eyes shut but could feel the light from outside. “Okay, open them.” He had a cake in his hands, the balloons and lights being such a pretty sight. The place was filled to the brim, you felt engulphed in love and happiness and the wide smile the boy had on his face, he knew you loved it.

“You…you did this on your own.” You spoke tearily, still partially in shock at how much the boy had done for you.

“It was all to see that pretty smile.” He got the matches lightening the candle before showing the cake in full view. It really did look like a scene out of a horror film with the red hearts looking like splodges and the words being smudged, “make a wish.”

He was scared you might hate him for ruing the cake, but you grinned like a school girl who had fallen in love. Blowing out the yellow fame, you made the wish that would make you and Jean bound together forever. He smiled putting the cake down, grabbing your hand to take you to the sofa. “You have to open it in order.” You nodded as he passed the gifts, there were three in total. A small box, a much larger oddly shaped one and a rectangle shaped one, he pointed to the rectangle and you opened it.

Unwrapping the silver wrapping paper and sticking the bow on your boyfriend, his lip twitched upwards before you saw the gift. It was a frame, with the two of you in it, it was sentimental more than anything. It had been three months into your relationship, and he had invited you to his work event where you met a lot of his friends. One of them being Sasha who insisted on taking a photo for you two, it had been your favourite photo since, so candid and in love it was beautiful.

“I love it.” You cooed ready to kiss and hug him, but he stopped you.

“No hugs or kisses until the last present.” You signed rolling your eyes at the boy who passed the oddly shaped gift. You unwrapped it quicker, wanting to hug your boyfriend so much at how amazing the day was going.

You undid it to be met with a figure from your favourite anime, it was a little plushie that you had seen in town. You had sent the plushie to him months ago and here it was in your hands, he had remembered. It was amazing, beautiful even, the little hands and feet. You wanted to cry even more at what you had gotten it meant a lot that the boy had even remembered such a trivial thing like that.

He passed the final gift, his hands seemed shaky, but you ignored it thinking he was cold. After all it was still icy outside and you knew he must’ve had to hide it in his car and wake up in the early hours to even do something like this. You wrapped the last gift, the smallest of the bunch, his shirt moved due to his heavy breaths, he rubbed the sweat on his trousers from his palms. He was nervous if you’d like something like this if you’d accept a gift so personal.

You opened it, seeing a square box, you looked between the box and Jean, before opening it. Inside a gold necklace sat in the middle, the words Jean dangled in the middle. Your heart stopped, it was pretty, the diamonds on each side, the cursive lettering. It was beautiful, “I know it says my name, but there’s a reason for that.” He watched your expression, fearful you’d think him to have that big of an ego, which he did but not to you, “I know I leave on business trips for days and I want you to know I’ll always still be around you.”

His justification warmed your heart even more than the gift had originally, you passed it to the boy, moving your hair to the side. He smiled putting it around your neck before kissing your exposed shoulder. “I love it, I love you.” You whispered in his ear, you kissed him softly before he brought his arms around your waist bringing you a lot closer onto his body.

Your birthday had started out amazing, and it continued on, with a surprise family call whilst Jean made dinner, showing your gifts which your parents adored. To the meal that Jean prepared as you both sat together under multiple candles, it was romantic something you and Jean had missed out on since the first lockdown had occurred. But here you were with your favourite boy having the best birthday ever. He even washed up, letting your relax surrounded by the balloons and streamers. It really was a magical day.

Even afterwards, letting you cuddle up beside him he gave you one last present, and it was one that would make you so loved, so comforted and definitely unable to walk the next day.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @ukaisgratefulwhore @answer-the-sirens @animexholic

#jean kirstein #jean kirschtein #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein request #jean aot #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirstein x reader #attack on titan #bakughoex #attack on titan x reader

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hockeylvr59 · 4 years

Text

Secret Love Part 8 || Cale Makar

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: So uh...I wasn’t going to post this until at least Wednesday but uh....after that game...I changed my mind. It’ll definitely be a bit of a wait until the next chapter because this was the last one I had banked but hopefully it makes it worth it. Thanks Cale for making me spontaneously combust about a dozen times today.

Gif credit: @mitchmarner

Warnings: cursing, smut

Word Count: 3,975

~~~~~~

It had been a week since Cale had gotten home and although you’d seen him, you hadn’t had any alone time together. Cale had come over a few times, once with just Laura to help you do some more unpacking, a second time with his mom and dad who had bought you a patio set as your housewarming gift and then a third when his promised king-size bed had arrived and he’d brought his brother Taylor to help swap it out with your double.

Each time, you’d had to settle for a quick hug, unable to kiss him like you wanted to in front of his family. If you were slightly frustrated by having him so close and not being able to act the way you wanted, you didn’t let it show, but it did contribute to the utter exhaustion you were feeling.

Work was crazy, anyone wanting to move trying to do so while school was out for the summer. On top of that, you were trying to get the house completely unpacked, just wanting to be able to live without tripping over boxes or having to dig for something you needed. You’d been eating far more takeout than you would have liked, so when you came home to find Cale in your kitchen cooking, you almost immediately started to cry.

“Hey, you’re home…” Cale grinned, stirring something in the pot in front of him. When he noticed the tears, he adjusted the burners before stepping to wrap his arms around you. “Why are you crying?” He questioned and you just sniffled into his chest, so many emotions swelling inside of you.

You weren’t shocked that Cale was in your home, you’d sent the security code to the hide-a-key to Cale and his family in case of emergency. But the fact that he was here...cooking dinner...you certainly hadn’t expected that in your exhausted state. As your body finally settled at the feeling of Cale’s hand rubbing your back, you leaned up to kiss him gently.

“I just...this was unexpected and I’m exhausted and you caught me off guard.” You murmured. Cale nodded and kissed you again before glancing over at the pots on the stove.

“Well go change. Dinner is almost ready.” Cale insisted. Following his instructions you moved to throw on a cotton sundress, letting your hair down from where you’d clipped it to keep it off of your neck. By the time you returned to the kitchen, dressed down and barefoot, Cale had glasses of wine poured and was in the process of serving dinner. “Take those glasses outside and I’ll meet you there in a minute?” He suggested.

Taking a sip of one of the glasses of wine, you moved through your house, out the backdoor, and into one of the cushy chairs surrounding your outdoor table. It was a beautiful evening, and Cale’s surprise appearance was just what you needed after a long day. The fact that he’d cooked...well that impressed you even more and you couldn’t wait to taste what he’d made. A minute or so later, Cale was setting a plate down in front of you, loaded down with chicken alfredo.

“My favorite.” You declared, smiling over at him as he settled into the chair next to you, scooting it just a little bit closer.

“I know.” He replied. “Hopefully it tastes okay. I uh...I’ve never made it before. I had to google a recipe.” Honestly, it was a hard dish to screw up and Cale wasn’t totally incompetent in the kitchen so your hopes were relatively high.

“I’m sure it will be great. I didn’t have to cook it and it’s homemade not takeout.” You assured him, squeezing his hand before reaching for your fork. The food was more than okay and you devoured your entire plate fairly quickly. Cale finished fairly quickly as well and leaving your plates on the table for the moment, the two of you moved over to the loveseat, just enjoying each other’s company.

Cale’s fingers stroked gently at the skin just above your knee and his chin rested on top of your head as you laid yours on his shoulder.

“I’ve missed you.” He breathed, pressing kisses into your hair.

“Me too…” You agreed. “This whole sneaking around thing is hard when I want to kiss you all the time.” Cale chuckled, his chest vibrating against you.

“I know…” Cale conceded. “I just…” He started speaking until you cut him off.

“But we both know your mom would ask a million questions and it’s kinda nice not worrying about what anyone else thinks even though I know she’d be happy for us.”

“Exactly.” Cale mused. “Speaking of my mom though…” He transitioned. “She uh, she suggested I come talk to you about something...which saved me from having to make an excuse...” He admitted trailing off.

“What?” You questioned, confused.

“I uh...I’m thinking about taking a trip,” Cale explained. “Mom suggested I ask you to go with me.” Your eyes went wide immediately wondering if Laura had picked up on this even if you hadn’t told her anything. “She said it would be good for us to spend some time together after everything. I think she’s still worried about our friendship.” He continued, rubbing at the back of his neck after a moment.

“Oh.” You whispered, your brain just a step slow on the uptake.

“I uh...was going to ask you anyway for the record.” Cale clarified. “Her suggestion was just the prompt for me to come over tonight.”

“So a trip huh?” You breathed, curious as to what he had in mind. “Like to Banff or BC?”

“I was thinking Iceland.”

Your eyes went wide and you twisted to face him, your stunned reaction making his cheeks flush.

“Iceland?” You repeated. Cale could have given you a million guesses as to the location he had in mind and you still never would have guessed that.

“Yes, Iceland,” Cale said, completely nonchalant. “It’s supposed to be beautiful in the summer. And let’s face it, you and I aren’t really beach people. Looking at all the things there are to do there, it sounded like a trip we’d both enjoy.” Cale was right, neither of you was really a ‘lay around on a beach all day’ kind of person. The fact that he’d put thought into what you would like when selecting a location made your heart skip a beat.

“So what do you say?” He finally inquired. “Take some time off work and go on a trip with me?” You were nodding almost immediately, excitement filling your veins. As if you wouldn’t go pretty much anywhere with Cale if he asked you to. “Good.” He grinned. “I’ll make all the plans and let you know the exact dates.”

Standing, he pulled you to your feet and wrapped his arms around you.

“Our first vacation together as a couple. I can’t wait.” He breathed, kissing you softly but deeply.

“Hopefully it’s just the first of our many adventures.” You murmured against his lips. Cale continued to kiss you until your knees started to go weak before he pulled away, moving to clean up your dishes. “I can do that.” You insisted. “You cooked.”

Your attempt to grab the dishes failed when Cale dodged your hands and moved inside.

“Relax sweetheart. I got it.” He called, and you shook your head feeling spoiled. Little gestures like tonight meant worlds more to you than any material present ever could and you felt blessed that Cale always seemed to want to do things to show you just how important you were. Letting yourself back inside, you moved through the living room where the picture Cale gave you last week was now settled among so many others. While not every photo included Cale, a good number of them did and it was amazing to see just how far your relationship had come.

Pictures weren’t the only things you had that revealed the depth of your friendship. Moving into the guest bedroom, you sat down on the bed, your fingers immediately drifting over the fabric of the quilt you’d found stored in one of your boxes from your childhood home. It was made of every jersey Cale had ever worn, even including the avs. You yourself had worn pretty much every one of these jerseys as you cheered Cale on from the bleachers.

Lost in thought about all of those weekends and afternoons spent at various rinks you missed Cale searching for you.

“What are you doing in here?” Cale murmured, his body leaning against the doorframe.

“Just thinking…” You responded, smiling over at him fondly. You felt Cale’s eyes just take you in before he realized just what you were sitting on. He had never seen your quilt before so you watched as his eyes went wide.

“This is…” He cut himself off and you reached out to him, drawing him further into the room.

“The summation of all of the years I spent freezing my butt off while supporting my best friend.” You ribbed him, your fingers running along his abs as he stood in front of you. Cale had a mystified expression on his face and you reached for his hands, holding them in your own. “I’ve always been so proud of you, you know that right?” You insisted. “Like my family has always joked that being your biggest fan is one of my defining personality traits.”

Sliding to your feet in the limited space between Cale’s body and the bed frame, you gently pressed a kiss to his lips.

“My mom saved all of the jerseys and I guess when I was in college she sewed them all together to make this.” You explained. “I got it shortly after I graduated but I forgot about it for a while. Then I found it while unpacking and decided it would be perfect in here.” It was something sentimental and it made you feel even more like this home was a place for the two of you. It was a piece of Cale present even when he couldn’t be.

Cale’s only response was to kiss you again, his hands pulling your body close with the sort of touch that made you feel both powerful and powerless at the same time. The more time you spent with him, the more all of those suppressed feelings rose to the surface ready to sweep you away. You weren’t ready to admit it, even to yourself, but a nagging voice in the back of your mind was getting louder and louder by the day with one clear message: you love him.

Pulling back from the kiss you let out a long yawn, your eyes blinking slowly.

“Someone really is tired.” Cale murmured, his arms wrapping around you snugly. Nodding against his chest, you relaxed against him, some of the tension in your body slowly slipping away.

“I need a shower though...so I can’t go to bed.” You mumbled, your words muffled by his shirt. Cale still heard you though because suddenly he was scooping you up bridal style and carrying you into the bathroom, setting you down on the vanity. After closing the bathroom door behind him, Cale opened the shower door and reached in to turn the water on.

Before he’d even turned back to you, you were already certain that he had plans for the two of you to shower together. That was confirmed when Cale removed his clothes before slipping his hands under your ass to slide your dress over your head. Gentle hands pulled your undergarments off as well before falling to your waist to carefully set you onto your feet on the bathroom tile.

Checking the water temperature, Cale stepped in, pulling you with him under the spray. The sight of his wet body in front of you made your mind go blank. You knew you were lucky, but god...the sight of him was mindboggling.

“Are you going to shower or stare at me?” Cale prodded, leaning down to kiss you quickly but firmly. Rolling your eyes, you wet your hair before stepping from under the water to get shampoo. “Just hold still.” Cale directed, his hands already covered in a soapy lather. Watching him, you felt his fingers run through your hair before they lightly scraped at your scalp, massaging gently.

“That feels good.” You hummed, tilting your head a bit into his hands. As more stress left your body, Cale guided you back under the spray until all of the soap was washed down the drain. He repeated the process with your conditioner, making sure not to coat your roots, lazy kisses killing time before it too was washed away.

Quickly washing your face yourself, you turned to find him squeezing your body wash into his palm. Though the feeling of his hands rubbing over your back was innocent enough, by the time you turned to face him you were relaxed and on edge all at the same time. His hands on your breasts drew an unsolicited moan from your throat and immediately his eyes flashed with lust.

You couldn’t tell from his behavior though, his touch remaining light and caring as he drew his hands up and down your body, lathering you in soap. Though you were still exhausted, as you rinsed off you couldn’t help but feel that uptick in heart rate and tingle all over your body that signaled your desire.

“Remind me to shower with you more often.” You said softly, reaching out for him. “That was really nice...thank you.”

“Such a hardship,” Cale replied, an easy grin on his face. It was impossible not to take what he had tee’d up for you and you dropped your fingers to trail along the v of his hips.

“I mean something is hard.” You smirked, just barely grazing your fingers against his semi-erect dick. Cale immediately let out a low grunt in response. Eyeing him for a moment, you moved to drop to your knees but Cale’s hands stopped you, quickly pressing you against the shower wall. “Cale...let me take care of you...you’ve been taking care of me all night.” You requested.

“And I’m not done yet,” Cale announced. A shiver ran through your body and you bit your lip watching as he moved to step out of the shower. As your mind flashed to the condoms in the vanity drawer, you thought about your upcoming trip.

A split-second decision had you reaching out to stop him, and this time when you bit your lip it was because you were slightly nervous. You hadn’t been with anyone in a long time besides Cale and you knew you were clean. You were fairly certain he hadn’t been with anyone else besides you in the last few months and you knew the Avs players were tested fairly regularly for all manner of things. And with your birth control given via shot every three months the risk of pregnancy was extremely low.

“Do you not want to…?” Cale asked. It was clear that you had confused him, so swallowing hard you moved to remedy that.

“I do. Of course I do.” You assured him. “I just...I was thinking…” There really wasn’t any reason for you to be nervous, you were both adults who could have this kind of conversation, so swallowing hard you just spit it out. “I get a birth control shot every three months and I know I’m clean. I’m pretty confident you are as well and it would be nice not to have to stop to reach for a condom every time if you’re comfortable going without.” Taking another deep breath you spoke once more before stopping to await Cale’s response. “Of course if you want to continue using them we can...your comfort is important to me.”

It seemed to take Cale a minute to process what you threw at him but after a moment he nodded and stepped toward you again.

“Are you sure?” He questioned, his eyes revealing that he wasn’t fully certain but he was definitely intrigued.

“That my birth control is effective? Yes. That I want to feel you and only you? Yes. That none of that matters unless you’re okay going bare? Triple yes. So go grab a condom, Cale.” You murmured pushing him toward the shower door.

When he resisted your push you sighed, the sound choked off as Cale’s mouth came down with a demand that had been absent before.

“I’m okay with it.” He insisted when you finally pulled away to breathe. Searching his gaze, all those hesitations that were there before were gone, leaving nothing but desire.

“Then why don’t you take care of me like you promised.” You suggested.

Cale’s strong hands fell to your thighs, hauling them up his body and around his waist as he leveraged you against the shower wall. It was a show of athletic strength that sent a wave of moisture to your core, one that Cale quickly discovered as he brushed his thumb through your folds, ending at your clit.

“You wet enough for me?” Cale asked, his nose bumping against yours as he pressed a needy kiss to your lips. Feeling him hard, pressed between you, it was impossible to do anything but nod. He didn’t move, however, until you eventually found your voice.

“Need you inside me.” You commanded softly. Cale started to shift but then cursed lowly.

“Spit in your hand.” He directed. Realizing he was concerned that the water was washing away some of the natural lubrication you followed his instructions, spitting and then wrapping your hand around cock. You’d barely started removing your fingers when he pulled back to shift and adjusting your grip you settled his tip at your entrance. He slipped through your fingers as he pressed up inside of you and the dual sensation drew a sharp moan from deep in your belly.

The lack of a condom wasn’t super noticeable, but you could have sworn he felt a little hotter and the friction was a little smoother without a barrier between you. They were minute differences but just as you were aware of every other sensation Cale’s body created, you were aware of those as well.

As Cale thrust his hips against yours you took in the difference between this time and your previous two times together. Of course the location was different, but while the first time had been need driven and the second beyond soft, this was a combination of the two. The physical exertion required on Cale’s part meant that he couldn’t take his time, but he was also acting ever so gentle, truly focused on taking care of you.

Determined to do your part, you wrapped your arms around Cale’s neck, kissing him as you rolled your hips down against his. Each hip roll created slightly different timing against Cale’s thrusts and the variety of angles created drew curses from your lips.

“Fuck…” You moaned when one angle hit a particularly good spot deep inside of you. “Right there…” Holding your hips still, Cale’s next thrusts hit the same spot and your head fell back against the shower wall. One, two, three more thrusts had you screaming Cale’s name, your orgasm crashing down on you hard, taking with it all of the frustration you’d been feeling before.

With a pleasurable numbness settling in your muscles, it took you a moment to realize that Cale was still grinding again you, seeking his own orgasm. Though you were slightly oversensitive, you wanted Cale to orgasm so you trailed your hands over his arms, appreciating just how big and broad he was. His body held such power that it both amazed you and turned you on.

Feeling Cale’s strain you pulled him into a kiss, your hand dropping between your bodies to gently roll his balls between your fingers.

“You gonna fill me up handsome?” You breathed against his mouth. “Gonna let me feel your cum deep inside me?” His balls twitched and he groaned your name. With one more half-thrust you felt him pulse inside you and his hot sticky semen coated your inner walls. The foreign feeling sent a jolt through you and caused a surprise orgasm to ripple through your body, completely exhausting you.

“Shit…” Cale grunted, his forehead pressed against your own. A long moment passed as Cale worked to collect his breath. “Can you stand?” He posed the question softly, his hands shifting on your thighs so that he didn’t drop you.

You honestly weren’t sure your legs would support your weight so you shook your head burying it against Cale’s shoulder.

“Alright,” Cale replied, shifting one hand quickly to turn the water off, which was surprisingly still warm, before placing it back on your thigh, elbowing the door open. Slowly pulling out of you, he set you down on the vanity, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks as he kissed you. As soon as he felt you shiver, however, he reached behind him for a towel, quickly wrapping it around your body. Retrieving a warm rag he cleaned you up first before wiping himself down. You could still feel his cum slowly dripping out of you, leaving you feeling dirty but in a good way. That was by far the most intimate thing you had ever done and it felt you feeling even closer to Cale than you were before.

Wrapped in a towel, you watched Cale quickly dry himself off before throwing his clothes back on. Then he turned his attention to you, carefully drying you off as well before lifting and carrying you back into your bedroom. Since you’d been too tired to make your bed this morning, he was able to easily settle you between the sheets. The moment your head hit the pillow you felt your eyes start to struggle to remain open. When Cale moved to your bedroom door your heart sank.

“Are you leaving me?” You whimpered, tears forming in your eyes. Immediately Cale paused in the doorway, turning to face you.

“Sweetheart...I’m just hanging the towels up and grabbing your dirty clothes. I’ll be right back.” Nodding, you closed your eyes, not opening them until the bed shifted beside you. “Come here.” Cale murmured opening his arms to you. You settled against him, your head on his shoulder as he kissed your forehead.

“Sunshine...I’m not just going to leave you after sex okay. Not unless I absolutely have to.” You knew that, you did, you were just exhausted and feeling vulnerable after that experience. Cale’s fingers stroked through your still wet hair and you felt yourself starting to doze against him, his rhythmic breath soothing you.

“I should go home at some point though.” Cale finally admitted. “Otherwise mom is going to ask a lot of questions.”

“Can’t you just tell her you fell asleep watching a movie and didn’t want to drive back when you woke up because it was the middle of the night?” You pleaded, pout settling onto your face. For a moment you thought Cale was going to resist, but then he kissed the pout right off of your face.

“Yeah, I can do that.” He agreed. “Let me go lock your doors and I’ll be right back.’’ He stated, slipping out from under you. When he returned it was with a bottle of water, which he placed on your bedside table before moving around the bed, shedding all of his clothes except his boxers. As he slid into bed, you snuggled against him once more, and this time you stopped fighting sleep knowing that he was right here with you. Right where he was supposed to be.

#cale makar #cale makar imagine #colorado avalanche imagine #colorado avalanche #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl smut #hockey smut #cale makar nws #nws #lemon #038 #cavalanche

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rouiyan · 4 years

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𝘙𝘖𝘖𝘍𝘛𝘖𝘗 𝘙𝘖𝘔𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘌 [ 𝘭.𝘵𝘺 ]

synopsis — taeyong is ready to take on the whole world and anything else that dare comes between him and a successful first date.

✧ idol!lee taeyong x (gender neutral reader) ✧ established relationship au, first date au

✧ genre : fluff ✧ word count 1.5k ✧ disclaimers light swearing, food

✧ author's note — kinda enduring a little phase of writer's block after exerting all my feelies on 'it's (un)conditional' but i got sum black tea, a ten minute break between classes, and i'm gonna fucking write this.

the air is cold to the touch, breezy and crisp, with the loom of autumn sitting atop the clouds and you think it'll rain any second. suddenly, this very well-anticipated date comes with a feeling of dread. arriving at the apartment complex, you give yourself a once-over in the lobby mirror before heading up. taeyong had asked over facetime, a little under a fortnight ago, if he could take you on a date, something appropriately social distance themed. his door, now swinging open in front of you, caught the edge of his foot and from there, you brought your eyes up his figure to meet his own.

the man is wearing casual jeans, a grey knit sweater and black shoes that resemble clogs, you're not very sure, but it isn't his outfit that throws you off, it's the gargantuan, and i mean, colossal, backpack that’s weighing down his posture. and not just any normal, day-to-day backpack, it's the fucking 'i'm going camping for seven days in the mountains' type of backpack, with the straps that clasp in the front, once across the chest and once across the waist. "taeyong, babe, you-"

he cuts you off, a sweet lopsided smile adorning his face, "ready to go?"

taeyong doesn't answer but instead, takes lead, brushing lightly past you, his hand sneaking for yours and intertwining fingers in the process, eyes focused entirely up ahead. a few steps behind him, you peer over his shoulders (and enormous bag) to see that he's heading for the stairwell. confusion clouds over your face as you ponder whether to question him or not. taeyong clips the door open with the heel of his foot as he draws you by the hand in front of him, hands brief on your hips to guide you up the stairs from behind.

taking a fleeting glance at the man who's quick on your heels, you bear in mind the way the skylight that filters light softly down the column of stairs illuminates his face in a way you can only describe as superlunary, the gossamer-thin strands of hair falling into his eyes, bending light in ways that deem inconceivable. the fine features of his countenance that you are oh-so-blessed to be in the presence of on a daily. even the scar beside his eye offering another depth of otherworldly complexity to his expression. his smile broadens, crinkling up the corners of his eyes, scar included.

"please don't tell me we're going up to the tenth floor," you give into your questioning observations.

"don't worry, even i have a hard time setting foot in there," he discloses, "a little further than that though, hope it isn't too tiring."

"taeyong, sweetie, are you sure this isn't too tiring for you? with that hunk on your back and all?"

if your eyes weren't set ahead, you'd be met with another quirk of his lips, hands finding yours again and giving it a small, inspiriting squeeze. "not even a bit."

the door at the top of the stairway reveals a wide space, open to the sky and the teeming city below. but it's all the same as the sky you were met with upon arriving, the sunlight having trouble peering through the thick haze of grey clouds, the whole picture setting a muted film of scintillating light over the ground and all above. a frown crossed pout is cast in your visage as taeyong immediately sets to work in unpacking the load.

you stand a little off to the side until he spreads a thick blue blanket on the floor adjacent to the wall that houses the flight of stairs you’d just came from. sitting atop, you watch as he constructs a projector and screen setup, random objects emerging from the bag with each coming minute. soon you're left with a spread of chips and homemade salsa, your boyfriend's laptop, a blow-up couch, a hoard of pillows and blankets, and finally, the beginnings of pitter-patter drops from the sky. cursing, you look over at taeyong who, instead of looking anywhere near fazed, has a set look of determination lining his features, a rigid and clenched jawline, and brows drawn in to a point. he gives you a glance, one that immediately softens the creased lines on his face, and sets back to work in unearthing even more items from the never-ending pits of that bag.

this time, it's a whole ass tent. a small one, but a tent nonetheless. he assembles it with ease, as if he'd done (or practiced) it a handful of times, and shoos you out of the way so he can move the whole configuration into the makeshift cover. you feel a tad bit useless, just standing under the awning of the landing, but it isn't as if you hadn't tried to help. it's just that every time you even dare to trespass into his little workspace, taeyong's frown deepens and he puts all work aside to guide you back under the awning, telling you to stay put and content.

the tent ends up providing even more comfort than the previous array, the sheeted material deflecting the light rain and privately enclosing the space within. your very well-thought-out movie date with taeyong begins but he's wallowing in apologies that "you're not able to see the view, though," and, "this basically negates the reason i brought you up here." you're not sure if you'd rather pay attention to your boyfriend's complaints at the situation and his maxed-out, but apparently still-lacking, efforts to make the best out of it, or the movie itself. you opt for the former, gently tucking his chin in between your index and middle fingers and using a soft kiss to lift the frown from his lips.

"pay attention to the movie, babe, now you're negating the whole purpose of the date!" he's exasperated, you can tell, but also you know that paying attention to him as opposed to the movie, and praising him for his good work as opposed to the movie, and making sure he knows you appreciate the heartfelt sentiments as opposed to the movie, would cure his little tantrum a lot more effectively than anything else. so you shift until you're facing him, holding his face in your hands and making sure your sight is locked tight with his own. he breaks eye contact a total of four times, to try and deliver the hint that the movie is supposedly of more importance, but you stay persistent.

"how'd your day go?"

"but the movie's still playin-" he's confounded.

"did you guys learn the new choreo?"

"hey, the movie- !" he feels as if you're antagonizing him.

"oh, for fuck's sake taeyong, i care more about you than the movie!" he goes quiet at this.

it's right then and there that, after knowing you for a total of four years but only being able to call himself your boyfriend for the past month, he decides that he loves you. the long pause that ensues is drawn to a close when taeyong wraps you warmly in his embrace, the crown of his head molding in perfect unison with the crook of your neck, the dip of your clavicle. he mumbles, "i knew that," before withdrawing and taking your hand in his, yet again. he seems to enjoy the feeling of your knuckles rippling underneath the pads of his fingertips because he runs over them repeatedly, reassuringly, gladdeningly, lovingly.

"and i will still care about you even if we have a very muddled first date. even if you had let it rain on us, i would still care, really."

he's mumbling, still, but you catch the small, "i love you," that falls from his lips like honey to your ears. you say it back like it's the easiest thing in the world, as if those three words have been at the tip of your tongue the entire time. you say it because it's what you feel most in a day's worth of emotions and that your love for taeyong is anything but shallow. it's a sea, a vast sea that runs on and on, miles wide and miles deep. and then there's taeyong. taeyong, who finds joy in the fact that he can swell your cheeks in the form of happy smiles and sincere affection. he finds pride in the fact that he can set your heart alight with simple but earnest actions. and he finds love in the fact that you love him back.

✧ end note — this is a prewritten and scheduled post. i will be taking a brief rest for the duration of today (102720) and will continue writing/posting tomorrow (102820). thank you for reading.

#nct #nct taeyong #nct-writers #taeyong fluff #taeyong fics #taeyong x reader #taeyong x you #taeyong x y/n #lee taeyong #struggling to write anything over 2k #rouiyan fics #rouiyan writes

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lizacstuff · 3 years

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Sen Çal Kapımı and Eda/Serkan asks

Hey all, thanks for the asks, I got a bunch after episode 23, so I’m answering them in one big post under the cut.

(KEEP READING)

Anonymous said: Thoughts on how or if Eda & Serkan finally reconcile in the next few episodes? The show does a nice job of making you feel bad for both Eda & Serkan when it comes to them not being together. It is tough not to melt when Eda & Serkan look at each other and also touch not to yell at the screen “kiss, just finally kiss again please” because the actors have so much chemistry together. Eda has the willpower of a freakin goddess honestly that is the only explanation for them not hooking up post breakup. That aside, I am not crazy about the fact that the show really ramped up the Serkan flirting, love declarations and sweet gestures. While it is totally understandable that Eda would rebuff a lot of it especially initially sometimes it feels like it has also prevented her from ever getting a chance to sort through her feelings. I took the contract as her way to put space between them especially the clause about only work related talk but it feels like she never really got that space. She is just in a constant state of trying to juggle her worries, fears, doubts, desires, a lot of which she probably had before the breakup with her pain from the breakup & secret and she has to constantly be on her guard so as not to give into Serkan. On top of work, trying to be a good friend, school, etc. And now there is another woman in the picture trying to make moves on Serkan which is clearly upsetting her as well. I get Serkan wanting to show Eda that he is willing to change and how much he cares about her but how about just saying “ you know I love you and I will be ready to move forward whenever you decide you are too” and just have them be coworkers for a bit. It would honestly be interesting to see what kind of reaction that gets from Eda.

You make a lot of great points. Honestly, I think Serkan’s actions can be chalked up to a few things:

A) He just can’t help himself. He probably, intellectually wants her to have the time she needs, but when they’re together he just doesn’t know how to hold back. It’s completely in-character and it’s how he acted when they were broken up too. He broke up with her for her own good, and logically knew he needed to stay away from her for both their sakes, but in reality he couldn’t do it and took every opportunity to spend time with her.

B) They are drawn to one another so when they’re together, neither can resist so it always escalates beyond what either was planning.

C) She always responds to him, and he knows how to get to her, so I think in any given moment he thinks he’s just one move away from her being ready to get back together, and he pushes his luck. He just wants it so badly.

I also think that Eda would be in a very different emotional place if they hadn’t been thrown for a loop twice. If she and Serkan had gone to dinner at the end of Episode 20 and talked, they’d be in a better place. Instead, of a nice healing dinner, we got Eda being emotionally scarred by thinking he abandoned her again, because that's how she felt after the break up. Even though she now knows he didn’t stand her up, she still went through those emotions, and they still lost the opportunity to spend that time together and come to an understanding.

Same thing goes for movie night. She was excited, she wanted to go to his place, she wanted to watch a movie with him, but she gets there and finds this woman who has already unsettled her trying to take her place in his life. So again instead of having time together, alone, when she’s made an overt move, she leaves upset.

Also, practically, TPTB know that this show’s entire thing is the sexual tension between these two characters so they just want to keep it ramped up to eleventy at all times. Which I can appreciate as a viewer.

As far as the reconciliation, I just want it to be emotional and beautiful and I want to see them happy. Happy like the ice-skating scene, but fully back together and that happy. I don’t want to put expectations on the next episode, HOWEVER, it is a holiday episode, it is exactly 10 episodes since they broke up, so the time feels right for something good to happen.

Hi I would like to have your opinion on episode 23 what do you think about it ? I found that there was too much balca she’s almost in every scene. Also the writing felt a bit inconsistent?? especially for serkan and eda (idk how to explain it, but it was weird at times maybe because of the writers changing).

Full episode thoughts are here.

At this point any Balca is too much Balca. I’m already ready for that crazy lady to be vanquished.

As far as the writing feeling inconsistent, maybe it's because the last two episodes had different writers, but I think it's more that they're trying to pad out the series and they needed a few filler episodes until they get back together. They want to give us the sexual tension and the heart-melting moments, because that is the entire point of the show, but if the emotional momentum kept pace with every scene they gave us, Ed and Serkan would be married by now! And then the show would be over. So, honestly, I think they're struggling trying to give us those moments without getting them back together too quickly, which results in some of those inconsistencies you talk about.

In the end, I have full confidence that this show will deliver in every way most of us want it too, but it may be trying for some to watch in real time. My advice is to be patient and don't judge it too hard. It's a sweet, silly confection of a show. Let the beauty of Eda and Serkan and their shippy moments spark joy and don't think too hard about the rest.

Anonymous said: I can't wait to see the reconciliation between eda and serkan especially since this time it will be eda's turn to confess her feelings and finally tell him I love you. How would you like this to happen? I think that the confession could not have come at a better time with the arrival of the grandmother.

Can’t wait for their reconciliation and an Eda “I Love You.” I’ve very much of the opinion that she has already expressed that sentiment several times, and I am very sure Serkan knows how she feels, HOWEVER, I also, badly want her to say it and tell him what he means to her. The audience deserves it! I don’t have many preconceived notions about it, I just want it to feel like a big moment and I want it to be properly emotional. And then I want them to have sex. Because frankly they’re gonna explode if they don’t.

As for grandma, I was wondering if they were going to bring her in when they were still apart, or right after they got together, or right before they were about to get back together. It appears it’s the final option, right before they were about to get back together. It was about to happen, Eda was ready to turn the page and go to Paris with him and that would have cemented everything. Let’s hope Gran’s appearance does not derail that, and they still get back together. All I want is to see is them united and working as a team. Perhaps they’ll get back together, but keep it on the dl so they can suss out what Grandma wants. We shall see.

Also I want to see Serkan’s reaction to Grandma having arranged a marriage for Eda. Dude is not going to be happy!

Anonymous said: I can't get enough of this scene when he described it all through her, every word was describing her actions and showed her why he is so sure around her. He can read her like a book like she is so naked in front of him. She can’t hide anything any more.

They sizzle!

Anonymous said: I really like how the writers ended up reversing roles with serkan and eda. Serkan was so closed and cold in the beginning and eda was the one who tried everything to make him open up a little more to her. Now it's Serkan's turn to do everything to make Eda open up to him, trust him again and reveal his feelings (after the break-up and everything that happened it's understandable that she acts like that, she needs time).

This is really well observed! Great point. They really did have a role reversal.

I think some people forget how cold and punishing Serkan was in the first handful of episodes. Like go back and watch the second half of episode 3, watch how he treats her, it is HARSH. (By the by, can we get that Serkan to make an appearance and put Balca and potentially Babaanne, in their place?)

I love Serkan, his pain gives me pain, but it’s okay that Eda has taken a little time and has had a few stops and starts on her way back to him.

Anonymous said: why didn't eda say anything when serkan told her i love you in french? I know that given the situation she couldn't have said it back but I expected her to at least say something.

DUUUDE, she did say something. She said that she understood what he said, then she went a bit weak in the knees, looked at him with stars in her eyes and was about a millimeter away from kissing him before coming to her senses. Then, with a huge smile and in a very flirty manner, she told him not to speak French anymore, pretty much admitting to him what his speaking French does to her heart, body, soul, mind, everything!!!!

If you’re reading that scene in any way negatively, you’re watching this show entirely wrong. Seriously, reset your perspective and get a better attitude, you’ll enjoy everything about your life more.

Anonymous said: I saw something around here and I would like to bounce on it eda clearly has the attention to leave and no longer see serkan but she continues to act (with her scenes of jealousy) and give false hope to serkan why?

Eda is confused, the last four eps she’s been in a constant emotional tug o war. On one side is her aunt and her stubborn pride telling her that she needs to leave and start fresh. On the other side is her heart and her soul knowing that she loves him and that they are inevitable.

It’s only been a week or so since she found out everything and Serkan is the one putting the hard press on her. He’s a big boy, he can handle the situation. He has demonstrated multiple times that he knows exactly where her heart is, she’s not giving him any false hope by having a hard time resisting him. Her jealousy is an honest reaction, even if she won’t admit it, and her succumbing to his flirting and declarations is an honest reaction. Which is exactly what he wants, he wants to push her into recognizing and admitting her honest feelings. Besides, Eda had pretty much decided to move forward with him by the end of the last episode, which is pretty dang quick in the scheme of things.

If you want to enjoy this show, don’t tie yourself into knots trying to pit these two lovers against one another. They’d be the first to defend the other if you did it in front of them.

Anonymous said: Do you know if there is a new episode of SCK this coming Saturday or are they taking a break till 2021? Episode 23 just about did me in and I need the next one ASAP. I loved all of the Edser scenes! I hated all of the scenes with Blaca but am trying to stay optimistic that the writers know what they are doing. It cannot always be smooth sailing for Eda & Serkan but every time they finally start moving toward reconciliation, a problem arises that understandably (in my opinion) causes Eda to put her wall back up. I get since we never have Eda saying she loves Serkan out loud/openly that this is the show’s way of telling us that she does want to reconcile & loves him as much as he loves her but dang, an “I love you Serkan” at some point would be amazing. But like Serkan was being a total idiot about Blaca that whole episode. He focused solely on Eda being jealous which is true but kept him from seriously considering that Blaca was bad news. It was frustrating to watch even though there has to be drama to keep things interesting. Staying positive that Eda & Serkan (and hopefully Ayfer & Aydan as well) will be a United front against Grandma & Blaca in the next episode.

I believe episode 24 will air on December 26th, no new episode on January 2nd.

All I want is for them to take on Grandma and Balca together! Bring it, show, I know you want to. No misunderstandings, no miscommunications, just facing them together.

You’re right about Eda’s walls going up and down. The last four episodes have been all about Eda and Serkan making slow progress towards each other and then the end scene is something that resets the progress. The dinner sabotage which picked at Eda’s abandonment issues and prevented them having a heart-to-heart talk which probably would have done them a world of good. The kiss which was followed by a slap. Then Eda once again working up the emotional courage to make a move, but she shows up at his house only to find Balca there and that derails everything. Then in the last episode, Eda had decided to start fresh, go to Paris with him on the most romantic date in the world, but boom there’s Babaanne.

She’s going to say I Love You, and it’s going to be glorious. Now when that happens is another matter. We shall see, however it wouldn’t hurt to...

#edser #Sen Çal Kapımı #sen cal kapimi #serkan bolat #eda yildiz #sckask #sck episode discussion #sck discussion #edser discussion #asklizac #sck 1x23

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skamamoroma · 4 years

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WTFOCK Season 3 Analysis- Touch and Distance - (Sander focused)

First of all, this will be long. As in, VERY long. If you know me and you followed me at ALL for Skam Italia or WTFOCK ‘analysis’ posts (which I WILL finish) then you’ll know the length to expect… so if you get even half way, you deserve a medal.

So, I have been promising this for a LONG time. I think I first said I’d write this when the reunion clip was released and I just… haven’t but seeing as we’re all in quarantine and I’m doing anything and everything to stay sane in my flat alone and we could all do with stuff to cheer us up, I’m offering this to fandom and I hope it makes you smile.

I think the reason I fell in love with Skam, the format and the intense character focus is because I love just that. I have always had an obsession with strong character driven TV shows/movies and even when I was tiny, I wrote an essay about Mary Poppins because I found her so mysterious and amazing. Shows like Skam and its remakes, when they’re GOOD they’re really really bloody amazing, mainly because they hone in on character detail and really use it for that perfect Skam-esque “show not tell” format. I’ve always found that kind of stuff so interesting and over the years have held this little collection of couples/characters/friendships from allsorts of shows/movies/theatre dear because they celebrate nuance… and Skam just spoils me!!

I have been MASSIVELY impressed with WTFOCK have done with Sander. He feels so fleshed out and dynamic as a character and in SO MANY DIFFERENT WAYS too. I think one of the things I was so giddy about was the way they still managed to keep the mystery there while also making it seem like we knew him so well. And we do. But I think that’s the reason it’s so cool because a lot of the things we know about Sander, he hasn’t really TOLD us. We’ve learned it through his actions or from reading into his words, from his reactions to people and the way he lives his life. That, to me, is like crack hahaha. I live for that stuff and for analysing a character and so I became a bit fixated on the way they used touch in season 3.

Now, it’s not just with Sander but with Robbe too. Touch was an ENORMOUS part of the season and we never really EVER had either of them talk about it. Robbe never really expressed verbal discomfort with touch early on but we saw it and Sander never expressed how important touch was to him but we witnessed it...and now we’re watching wtfockdown with Sander specifically struggling with lack of touch. Safe to say, I knew I had to write this eventually and after quite a few messages (you lovely lot), I am doing this for you. Enjoy!

SANDER FIRST...

SANDER.

When it comes to Sander, I feel like I have SO MUCH TO SAY but I think, the most important thing, is that touch is a cornerstone of character in terms of what calms him, what makes him happy, what makes him feel connected, what soothes him, how he expresses love, how he wants to show love, how he flirts… ALL OF IT, and distance is what plagues him.

I re-watched each clip in turn and I’m still obsessed with how they layered his character with this idea. No other Even and not even Even himself has this element so strongly emphasised. Yes, they all like touch and some of the parallels have specific things that form part of their character like Eliott and Lucas and the whole touch of skin thing and Cris/Joana with the hair/cheeks thing and Even always loved to ground himself in touching Isak ETC… but with Sander, it’s such a narrative and it’s woven in so beautifully. ABOVE ALL, what makes me smile and what is so meaningful is that as Robbe grows and opens up and learns about touch himself (see my Robbe post to come), we see that Sander is gifted this really sweet boy who LOVES to touch and who is incredibly affectionate and finds himself learning that he is INCREDIBLY good at providing comfort. So their love story also becomes a story of touch and navigating distance from those perspectives.

I guess writing it out helps to see it so I’ll go chronologically.

The first time we see Sander use touch is when he’s in the kitchen with Robbe. The entire scene is practically choreographed it’s so fluid but the lack of space, the shuffling around each other and the general ‘oh my god this person makes me feel things’ vibe makes the fact that when Sander purposefully touches Robbe for the first time, it’s a THING… that hand on his back. They do kind of brush up against each other a few times but that little linger of the camera on Sander’s hand on Robbe’s back makes me GIDDY because it’s all so intentional. It’s Robbe’s face that does me in. You don’t need his words because he does this sort of glance behind him and a bashful sort of dazed stumble… it’s so obvious that being touched like that by Sander got to him in an overwhelming way. It’s all electricity and that kind of giddy new love thing in the kitchen but that moment KILLS me because it’s touch that Robbe WANTS but doesn’t feel able to have… but Sander gives it because he’s SANDER. He’s demonstrable and purposeful (I will use that word a lot!) with touch.

Sander does stuff in a way that’s bold and purposeful (told you) and touch is part of that. ALL THE WAY OR NO WAY - right? So many times, you can see Sander decide and then act immediately. SO MANY TIMES. In the supermarket, feeding Robbe, in the bar when he decides to take Robbe off on an adventure, at the swimming pool ETC. SO MANY. And touch is a thing all wrapped up in that sense of purpose and spontaneity. His actions are mostly not overbearing or unwanted though which is so key. People seem to feel comfortable with him even if he is a little forward and NOBODY more than Robbe. Robbe doesn’t recoil, he lets it happen and not in the passive way we see him do early on but in the OH WOW HE TOUCHED ME way that can only come with attraction and early feelings. BUT THEY HAD KNOWN EACH OTHER HOURS. Hours, and Robbe was fine with it.

Sander and flirting... HE IS SO OBVIOUS and touch is part of it every single time. That whole ‘oops I rolled into you in the sand’ is just textbook, man! Hahaha. I laugh at him early on because he is genuinely adorable with how obvious he is. Same can be said for the “oops I just need to grab this bottle that just happens to be right next to you which means I need to stand so close to you and wrap my arms around you’ - hahahaha. Not to mention the ‘oh let me teach you to turn on the oven and lightly touch our fingers’. Purposeful.

Then you get the first time they’re together alone for their bike ride. I mean, we all know Sander is giddy. It’s what makes it so sweet to watch because he’s just SO HAPPY to have Robbe by himself and to go off on this adventure together. I LOVE the way he holds Robbe’s hand after they high five…. BOY. He takes advantage of stuff while he can. But when they get to the pool, it’s obviously an Even move and we all know how it goes but the first time he touches Robbe is to kiss him. We know it’s all he wanted, we know it was his plan, we know he’s been wanting to do it a long time but I LOVE that they kept in the recoil from Robbe because it is absolutely NOT a gradual progression for Robbe when it comes to Sander… it’s ALL IN and scary and overwhelming and Robbe’s instincts kick in but the second Robbe kisses Sander back, we get the start of seeing Sander and touch being a HUGE DEAL. Robbe is still learning and faced with the way Sander acts first, thinks later, the differences between them in this moment are STARK. It’s why it all goes so catastrophically wrong afterwards but why I understood what Robbe did even if it was so very wrong.

Sander is SUCH an Even and I’ve always said he reminds me of Even the most of all the parallels but especially when he kisses. He’s a passionate dude! He kisses with meaning and with all he has and it’s little wonder Robbe described it as his head exploding… poor guy! You get that first glimpse of Sander acting on his feelings and he’s overwhelming. In that pool, he grasps and holds on and Robbe’s hair becomes a total THING for him.

For me, I get most interested in touch from Chernobyl onwards. THAT CLIP. The stuff in it that’s so subtle but AMAZING when it comes to Sander makes me roll around in it, in the way it MEANS so much and says a lot about who he is. The DISTANCE he keeps from Robbe is not something we’ve seen from him yet. It’s clearly not comfortable for him but he deserves to keep it until he feels comfortable and I LOVE LOVE LOVE that he only moves closer but DOESN’T touch Robbe yet. And this next moment is what sparked my obsession…. The “i’m going to nearly kiss you and then not kiss you” moment. He uses touch to make a point. Purposeful. He stands close but they don’t touch and then he teases with it… tests Robbe’s response with it to see what he’d do. Robbe doesn’t move and allows it. He then clarifies how Robbe feels about stuff now and the second he gets his answer … fuck all of that noise and fuck all the issues I had in my head (a sentiment we KNOW Sander understands and grasps onto eventually - Chernobyl being the way he himself describes the effects of his bipolar disorder) he goes all in and closes the distance. KILLS ME. That use of touch to make a point is Sander ALLOVER. Never without purpose.

They don’t STOP touching AT ALL… until it’s used AGAIN. This time, this huge focus on pulling apart. It’s gradual. They disconnect from their bodies then they disconnect from lips and then that lingering shot on their hands and the whole holding on until the very last second…COME ON. It’s so perfect. So intentional and so meaningful. The fact that Sander holds on purposefully for so long until he absolutely can’t anymore, it makes him STUMBLE…. If that’s not a whole metaphor for who he is as a character then I don’t know what is! He WON’T allow that distance until he absolutely has to… and that fact characterises their ENTIRE story right up until wtfockdown!

Onto the cuddle scene and again, from Chernobyl, it’s full of poignant moments. It’s an overload in terms of seeing Sander respond to touch. There’s a lot of touching in this clip, a lot of playful stuff and kisses and cuddles but I think there are a few specifics that are in there for a reason that say so much. The first is the hair stroking. Now, we know Robbe and Sander LOVE touching each other’s hair and there’s a fair amount of pulling involved too… haha… but it’s so telling the way that Sander relaxes under Robbe’s touch. He spends most of that scene with his eyes closed. It relaxes him, makes him sleepy and comfortable and Robbe clearly realises it because when Sander seems distressed, Robbe goes straight to do it again. It’s all part of Robbe’s journey wrapped up in there too, learning how his touch can be soothing.I love that Sander barely moves from his position upside down on the bed. He allows Robbe the ability to do ANYTHING. He lets Robbs move around him, lets Robbe touch him and climb on top of him. He just basks in it and please go rewatch it and watch his eyes even when Robbe is talking… he closes them constantly like it’s making him fall asleep. He’s so comforted by it. When Robbe climbs on him, his eyes are even closed! He’s just VERY VERY happy allowing Robbe anything when it comes to moving around him and in his space. He lets Robbe koala himself on his back without a flinch, is so comfortable with the affection and clearly soaking it all in. I think the other moment is when Sander realises Robbe’s jealousy/upset and goes to very purposefully lie down against him to tuck his head under Robbe’s chin. The purpose in it, at the time, seemed kinda sheepish but we know better now. We KNOW Sander had tried to distance himself from Britt but she wasn’t allowing it and this is Sander purposefully closing that distance, taking it back and seeking Robbe’s touch again. It’s like he’s had that comforting touch now and, without it, it doesn’t feel right so he closes the distance the VERY SECOND he can. He does this a few times from here on out too… that lack of ability to stay apart from Robbe, the wish to keep that comfort coming.

There’s this struggle we see from him AGAIN and AGAIN. When stuff with Robbe suffers because Sander’s truth gets in the way (with Britt texting in the cuddle scene, with their distance before the reunion where Sander tried to leave Robbe behind etc)... he CANNOT wait to remove the distance as quickly as he possibly can. The only exception is when they’ve been apart post hotel and Sander is unwell… but we know he’s frightened, embarrassed, worried about hurting Robbe and we know that he’s trying to keep Robbe at arm’s length to protect him but… and I’ll get onto it later but it’s PERFECT to me that the second he has touch back, the second Robbe kisses him, he crumbles. It means THAT MUCH to him. It’s such a pattern with him and it starts here, with Sander crawling across the bed, not allowing Robbe to be too far away while he still has him.

For me, it epitomises that idea of “i don’t know if I’ll find someone like that, at least not someone who loves me”. Because, for Sander, he WANTS so badly. He wants to be in love and to find someone special and be able to show love but he’s terrified. For such a purposeful person, someone who acts on instinct, that is clearly so hard for him. He WANTS but he has to force himself NOT TO for all of the reasons he gives and for all of the reasons we can read from his behaviour. Those moments he stays away - aka post assault, post hotel - are all for a good reason and yet the second he realises that the worries that lead to his belief that he can’t HAVE are unfounded or resolved, he closes any and all distance and holds on for dear life. “I’m never ever letting go of you”. ALL THE WAY OR NO WAY. He either allows himself everything and that ‘all in’ sense of falling head over heels and clinging on for dear life or he cuts and runs… and the cutting/running part honestly must have hurt so badly for him. We know how much Robbe means to him and how much touch and comfort he gets from their relationship… to leave that behind when he can’t remain over the other side of the bed from Robbe normally must have been so hard for him.

ANYWAY. The date. I’ve talked about this endlessly but the first minute or so of this clip is some of the best chemistry I’ve seen in the SCU and, in general, to be honest. It hit me like a freight train when I first saw it. For LGBT+ folks, seeing stuff like this is impactful. Mainly because it’s shown as so natural and normal and given the same respect and focus on desire and sweetness and simplicity as hetero love stories have been given for millenia!

They touch constantly throughout this clip but I just LOVE the focus on it. The camera lingers. Every shot is there for a reason. Sander’s touch goes from playful to casually affectionate to passionate to suggestive within seconds and he drowns in it! It’s mesmerising to watch. Again, it almost feels choreographed. The moment that kills me is Sander just running one finger across Robbe’s collar bone. WHOEVER decided to include that --- director or writer or even actor --- it’s just perfect. It’s so Sander. He doesn’t stop touching and that little focus on the fact that he always wants to show how he feels through touching Robbe...the fact that it is on his skin when Robbe is wearing a full on sweatshirt shows how much Sander seeks intimacy out. It’s so purposeful once again and yet so simple… but the main thing is that Sander uses touch to keep that connection going. The music change at that exact moment is what does it for me. It’s dream-like, swoony and mesmerising. You can feel the dazed sense of love and adoration, the intimacy of the fact that Sander can’t help but hold onto Robbe’s hair again and even when he’s whispering to him, can’t help but chase it with kisses. Sander uses every thought and feeling he has inside and translates it directly into touch. He communicates with it!

Which leads pretty nicely onto the reunion… because the next time we have Sander able to reach out physically is SO MUCH LATER. The assault, the distance Robbe enforces (for good reason because of what he believes happened at the party) and then the confusion about the mural creates SO MUCH DISTANCE.

The start of the reunion clip is one of my all time favourite SCU moments from any remake. The acting is near perfection. I’ve posted tons about it before but GOD. I love that, to this point, after that intense, hazy kind of love they were starting in the bar… everything was torn away from them. As I said before, Sander is either ALL IN or not at all. When he’s in, he’s REALLY in and touch is fundamental.

So it KILLLLLLSSSSSS MEEEEEEE (Yes, I am being dramatic but GOD) that the first thing he does when he walks in the foyer of Robbe’s building, without explanation and after so long apart and so much mess existing between them is… close the distance between them physically.

This scene reminds me of the La Grotta scene from Skam It s2. Every touch and movement in that scene with Marti and Nico is a form of communication and it’s the same here. I guess it’s why I love both scenes so much because ‘show not tell’ is precious and intelligent and so so much more meaningful for a viewer. The way Sander just stands there and then without words, kisses Robbe and tries to do what he can normally do so easily and communicate through his touches is heartbreaking. But too much has gone on. It’s not possible to communicate that way after so much hurt and confusion.

Then that forehead touch. GOD. I remember watching it and being so bowled over without how much was SAID by both of them. The way that Sander leans into it like he KNOWS he can’t use kisses to sort it all out but just NEEDS comfort and Robbe’s touch… and the way Robbe lets himself have it for a moment but then makes genuine crying noises of frustration to get Sander to stop. The “I want this so much but stop, it’s not fair what you’re doing” is so obvious in his actions. It’s all because it’s how they communicate. BECAUSE touch is their love language, the fact that they can’t give into it is PHYSICALLY painful for them both. They both just stand there with their eyes closed. Sander looks exhausted, devastated but also so deeply comforted by Robbe’s presence and the fact that he can be close to him again in equal measure. Robbe lets out this big sigh and it screams “I know, I feel the same, this feels so right and I miss you so much but I can’t let you forget everything that happened” - YET THEY DON’T STOP TOUCHING. I love that regardless, they stay connected and cannot physically part themselves. It’s written all over Sander’s face how much it means to have Robbe so close and Robbe’s little nose rub is plain adorable. They are literally standing there comforting each other while at the same time trying to communicate through nothing but touch… and the RELIEF in those touches too.

It’s little wonder that what happens next happens in the way it does. Those few words from Sander and the touches between them are enough for them to just KNOW. Their connection is so fundamental that it’s worth fighting through and relying on that gut instinct for them.

Sander is then able to do what he’s good at and be purposeful, firm and to throw himself into it. ALL THE WAY. Once he knows he is ok again, that he has permission and is allowed to let his heart go, he just falls into it and it’s ALL TOUCHING from then on. Every kiss is so meaningful and there are a few specific moments that are really meaningful to me.

The first one is Sander’s smile when he lands on the bed. He is never happier than when he’s able to be free like this. He revels in the ability to throw himself into his feelings. He’s ridiculously enviable tbh. The next moment is the whole clawing, clinging thing he does. Yet again, poor Robbe’s hair gets yanked every which way but I love that we get that glimpse of ‘never letting you go’ mentality he has to keep Robbe as close as physically possible and the way he closes his eyes, smiles and loses himself in those moments. They’re so close to Sander POV it’s crazy. It reminds me of during the cuddle scene when he closed his eyes. Touch grounds him in the most astounding way! I LOVE that the lyrics during this as “take it how you want it, take all my love”. PERFECT, man. That idea of give and take is SO IMPORTANT for them, for Sander especially. The ALL THE WAY mentality he has means that he could only EVER fall in love with someone who is able to counter it, someone who is able to GIVE IN to Sander the way he needs and lose themself too the way he likes. He could only ever fall in love with someone as willing to give and take the way that he is with comfort… and Robbe fits the bill, which is obviously as much of a surprise to him too! I think that’s where their connection comes in. That spark between them and the way they feel for each other is one of contentment so they’re quite happy taking what they need from the other person because the other is SO GIVING. Robbe is so affectionate which is what Sander craves and Sander is so purposeful and bold in his ways which is what Robbe needs. The last moment is the hand holding. Again, Sander is grounded by that physical connection. He clings and holds on and receives so much comfort from it. The knowledge that they’re in something together is clearly huge for them both.

The morning after scene is most meaningful in terms of touch when they get into Robbe’s room. I LOVE how natural it all is. Sander is very happy letting Robbe do what he wants again and it’s almost seamless for Robbe just to sit on his lap. But he’s completely incapable of reigning himself in. The purposeful side of Sander comes out in full distraction mode with Sander genuinely incapable of keeping his hands to himself. The whole playful kind of sexy “I’ll throw you around” thing is not only them at peak comfort with each other but Sander’s way of physically showing he’s not going anywhere, of reminding Robbe that he’s all Sander’s attention is on and all he cares about and that he can DO this now, just toss Robbe onto the bed and crawl all over him - hahahaha. He treats Robbe like he’s precious and completely focused on but also treats Robbe perhaps the way HE wants to be treated… those promises followed by touching with a little possessiveness, that reminder that he won’t be left alone. He gives it all to Robbe and in true Sander style, tries to communicate through touch as much as he possibly can because words mean honesty and they mean a risk of losing it all.

The next notable moment is YET AGAIN, Sander playing with touch when he arrives at the flat. The “nope, Robbe, you’re not getting what you want until we do this fun thing I want to do with you to create a tradition”. He does it twice, playing with denying Robbe touch and physical contact. He has a task to do and he needs Robbe focused on it so he uses touch to keep that focus sharp… and then the fact that the VERY SECOND that task is done, Sander literally walks straight into Robbe’s arms and kinda carries him off towards Robbe’s room makes me laugh. He’s like “ok touching is allowed right this instant” … he knows himself. If he’d have allowed them to touch before he did his task, there’d have been ABSOLUTELY NO SHOE PUT OUT! He’s self aware ;)

Then the hotel… and oh my heart breaks and is soothed in equal measure because this evening was HANDS DOWN one of my most favourite Skam watching experiences. It is gut wrenching in real time and so beautifully acted, I can’t handle it, especially from Willem DS. That kid can act rings around most professional Hollywood actors. They both can. Yet another Skam remake showcasing young talent at its most special and honest. Anyway, I digress!

The shower scene has to be talked about. The show runners etc explained why they included it where the original didn’t (although planned to!) and I get why some found it a little too much but, for them, it worked. I mean, I’m not the person to talk about sex scenes but I definitely CAN talk tons about them when they’re MEANINGFUL and layered and this one is. It’s complete and utter trust. I love so much of the camera work here because you can see they tried to be as respectful as possible while also getting the meaning across and it worked so well… especially as the stuff that clicks for me is Sander’s behaviour. He’s so lost in it. Again, he’s someone who acts on instinct and needs someone who will respond to him with understanding. If someone’s not on the same page then he’s THROWN (and this is why the whole cyber sex things is killing me with its meaning for him!). Again with Robbe’s hair being pulled all over the place but Sander allows himself take and be taken and it’s so important to who he is that it’s ALL THE WAY kind of love and that he’s allowed to be both in control and also completely vulnerable.

The way they segue into the shot of the bed and sander is completely wrapped up in Robbe’s arms kills me. There’s no one right way for them. Touch comes to Sander in his ability to be DEMONSTRABLE and also to RECEIVE. In these moments, he just snuggles into Robbe and takes and takes and takes and takes… but only because Robbe is so perfectly willing to provide. It’s why they work. That balance is what is so key about their relationship. Sander feels ok to suddenly go from firm and handsy to extremely vulnerable and the shot when the camera closes in on his face so serene and at ease, happy to be kissed repeatedly on the forehead by Robbe is just incredibly meaningful and emotional. He is allowed to be himself and to fall into it without worry even when he’s at his most vulnerable. He basks in it and it’s so comforting to watch. I love that he plays with Robbe’s necklace because not only is it him looking at a guardian angel around Robbe’s neck but it’s like a tick to ground him and comfort him right back. A touch to something so fundamentally Robbe.

The segue into the second clip where Sander is even MORE wrapped up in Robbe’s arms breaks my heart. I remember seeing the og Skam cuddle clip all those years back and realising that my god, I’d never seen affection from an LGBT+ couple before in that innocent, gentle, normal way! It’s sad that this was the case but it’s why Skam got under my skin and why the s3 storyline is always so precious to me. This is yet another example but throw in the respect shown to mental illness in a really human and raw way and I’m gone. I love that Sander is able to be so cuddly and open without worry. He’s going through it, struggling and when this clip aired I remember almost every post in the tag was about his eyes, the frantic eyes showing that so much is going on inside his head while he lies there still, soaking up the comfort Robbe is willing to provide. The antithesis is insane but works so well. Robbe has no idea that he’s effectively holding Sander together. He’s clinging on. He’s doing what he always said he would and never letting Robbe go.

The night time switch into Sander’s struggles hurts because he’s still trying so hard not to let go but his brain is struggling, he’s panicking, he’s not in control of himself and he’s scared. You can see it all over his face, in his eyes and body language that he WANTS to stay with Robbe and when Robbe asks him to come back, tries to pull him back to cuddle, Sander goes because he ALWAYS DOES. He tries so so hard till he can’t try anymore and that distance is forced upon him. It was devastating to watch in real time because we all KNEW what was going to happen (we’d seen it all before) but, for some reason, the way Sander was and what we’d learned about him made him being separated from Robbe in this vulnerable state really upsetting. He was so happy in Robbe’s arms, so comforted and then all of sudden it was gone.

The fact that the cycle happens again to lead us into the next time we see Sander physically WITH Robbe is just crazy meaningful because this time, Sander’s truth is not able to be hidden. He can’t use touch to distract and to ignore his thoughts and reality. Everything about the way he acts is out of shame and embarrassment and fear of not being loved for who he is - flaws and all. When I eventually finish my analysis posts, I have SO MUCH to say about this but my goodness, Sander is the only Even aside from Eliott who doesn’t reach out and they both have that same feeling of shame in common. The difference is that Sander actively tries to hide away, to push Robbe away and ACTS on what the other Evens said aka I’ll hurt you, it won’t work, I should leave… he physically does that. The thing that makes me a little misty eyed is the fact that he also provides Robbe with information to help find him. He desperately wants Robbe to be the only one to find him while also simultaneously wanting him as far away from him as possible. He’s done it before with the mural, that “I love you and I need to show you but I can’t be with you”. It’s that desperate pull they have that just ends in mess but at the core has such love and comfort. Sander has run away from everyone, hasn’t reached out to any of them except Robbe and it’s his way of closing that distance even if he’s so sure Robbe is better off without him. Why else would he send Robbe that message, effectively using their history and experience to suggest where he is. Robbe was all he wanted, was all that comforted him (hence the drawings all over the walls) and the fact that when Sander is found, he kept pushing and pushing and pushing and resisting and falling apart through grief and pain and shame and every other negative feeling that overwhelms him… but STILL follows when Robbe asks. He’s trying so hard for the NO WAY of it all but it was never going to work. The fact that when Robbe properly touches him, he falls apart is just about the most obvious thing for me. Robbe is comfort and safety. He may not have all of the answers but just being close is so clearly and viscerally affecting for Sander that he collapses and lets Robbe take the weight of him both literally and metaphorically. That touch is all he needs to fall back into ALL THE WAY and let himself believe.

The fact that the next scene starts with Sander, completely wrapped around Robbe, their skin touching and Robbe stroking Sander’s hand just goes to show how much he allowed himself to use that touch again not only as comfort but as belief that he doesn’t need to mask things anymore. He doesn’t need to pretend and hide his reality, he can be open and vulnerable and also have the ALL THE WAY too. Robbe is that solid warm weight and reassurance. The purposeful Sander is still buried there, it’s just the vulnerability is too overwhelming and so he relies so much on Robbe here to provide what he needs. And god BLESS Robbe’s enormous affectionate heart because he’s perfect with him. Sander clearly meant the words from the day before, signifying he really expected Robbe to change his mind in the morning...those really quiet questions in the dark to Robbe are just heartbreaking because he needs reassurance. Robbe closes the distance to him, gets so close, kisses him multiple times, presses their foreheads together and doesn’t judge… and Sander is completely comforted enough to be able to fall asleep.

THEN… one of my ultimate favourite moments of Sander and touch. It’s like a culmination of EVERYTHING we’ve learned about Sander (and also it’s the same for Robbe but I’ll leave that for my Robbe post!!). He’s still vulnerable but getting back to his usual self a little playing games with Milan and you can see the spark in his eyes, the way he uses his words again to assert how he feels but, above all, it’s that contrast between him asking for a kiss and leaning back into Robbe in this purposeful way that’s perfectly softened by the fact it’s him receiving and seeking comfort too. It’s then that both sides of Sander come together and the fact he’s found what he seeks it in one person is so special. Robbe is EVERYWHERE. He’s all hands in Sander’s hair, legs either side of him, resting his chest against Sander’s back, holding his head gently, kissing everything he can get his lips on (mouth, nose, head, hair) and then settling with his arms around Sander’s neck. It’s EVERYTHING. Sander has shown from the start in most things he does how much touch is important in terms of asserting himself, seeking comfort and showing love and in this tiny little scene it has ALL THREE and is why they are both so dear to me as a pair. It’s INCREDIBLY romantic and very reassuring for anyone who has ever struggled in the way Robbe or Sander has… because it confirms that it is possible for people with specific needs and people who have been shaped by their experiences and come out of it with certain needs and vulnerabilities are able to be loved completely without judgement.

“In good time, you’ll come to know, when you release, when you let go, you can find yourself where you belong”

The best thing though is the way that Sander responds in this moment. He shakes his head and smiles to himself like he’s coming out of a trance. That little ‘yeah’ is adorable. That moment is enough to say all there is about what touch means to Sander as a human being and a partner. For a moment, Robbe helps him forget, sends him a little dizzy with love, gives Sander overwhelming comfort that Sander disappears into it and, as cheesy as it sounds, they fit. It’s exactly what all of the Even and Isak parallels had, that ‘i save you, you save me right back’ love story. They all did it in different ways but with these two, I was stunned with how much they put into the unspoken, especially with Sander. We don’t see him as much, we don’t get inside his head like Robbe’s but we still understand him, possibly more than any other Even parallel by the end of season 3 and this is the season closest to the original for unanswered questions! It’s why I don’t at all mind questions left unanswered and a lack of exposition and clean cut resolution because if the emotion is there and the nuance is there then it does half of it for you.

I love that the final scene of the season, for Sander purposes, is him wrapped in Robbe’s arms! It’s kinda poetic.

I love his character so much. He’s insanely expressive and complex and he’s fascinating to me and to have WTFOCKDOWN is a total gift...because not only does it give us insights we’d never have gotten otherwise, we get this continuation of Robbe and Sander’s relationship and what is it about…. TOUCH. Hahaha. I mean, I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect topic for exploration of who they are together as a starter for ten, not to mention it’s so Sander focused too!

When it comes to Wtfockdown, we get to see Sander operating in enforced distance. We KNOW that when distance has been a thing in the past, he has tried everything he can to make up for it (murals, drawings, reaching out to Robbe cryptically). That compensation for the distance never ever worked. It always made it so that when Sander eventually had Robbe close again, he threw himself back in head first and touch was HUGE when it came to that. Now, Sander has Robbe completely and vice versa and no doubt knows fully what it is like to have that comfort and touch all of the time… but now it has been taken away. For Robbe, he’s an affectionate koala of a human but his relationship with touch has been a journey of discovery and of self but he doesn’t depend on it like Sander does. He communicates with it but, for Sander, it’s a vital part of who he is. I love that the first clip has Sander asking to meet up… hahaha. I remember being so giddy reading that because OF COURSE. He’s trying everything he can again. Then he broke my heart because this time, his form of compensation is to take Robbe with him on his walks. It’s yet ANOTHER form of compensation to try to fill that void where touch once was!

Clip 2 starts their face to face journey and GUYS. I mean, Sander flat out saying that the thing he misses most about Robbe is his touch just about broke my heart and made me giddy once again! They really did that. He’s so happy to see Robbe, to spend time with him but over and over again he’s repeating ways to stop the distance like swapping places with Robbe’s mamma…! Bless his heart. The fact that he says “there’s nothing better than you”, he REALLY does mean it. We’ve seen a whole season of why that’s the truth! We’ve seen him reach that conclusion! Also, that compensation once again on dreams and daydreaming… ANY WAY HE CAN to stop the distance. He breaks my heart.

Clip 3...ONCE AGAIN. “The endlessness of this tunnel symbolises the physical distance between them”. He cannot cope with it. This one made me a bit emotional when I first saw it. They’re not just words for his fairytale; he means them. The distance is DIFFICULT for him. You can see it on his face when he says those words, he frowns. He’s speaking the truth even if he’s making it seem a little light hearted. Then that little private moment where it says he just wants to be with Robbe. It’s genuinely incredibly hard for him to not have Robbe nearby. For someone who thrives and depends so much on touch, the distance is painful and a genuine loss. It’s not just ‘i miss my boyfriend’ because there’s a real nuance there, a real part of who Sander is that prioritises touch and closeness so significantly.

Clip 4. It took me FAR too long to get through this clip the first time around because I SHOULD NOT BE SEEING THIS but hey ho. I watched it again for you, dudes. Sander’s on the quest for compensation for the distance again, this time trying something new and yea, it’s a risk but he means it. It’s something he wants to try because it’s Robbe and it’s fun and he loves him and misses him and feels like it’s another way to feel like the distance isn’t so vast. The moment Robbe tells him he’s not into it, Sander looks a little crushed but immediately understands and lies down. Now, for me, I might be reading so much into it but because we have seen what touch means, as a stand in for it, and Sander now feeling so comfortable with Robbe, that moment of ‘I’ve gone too far’, ‘we’re not on the same page’ is huge for them. Sander can’t find what he’s looking for during the distance and you can see he feels so embarrassed but the moment he laughs at himself, tells Robbe that just lying together is enough and respects Robbe, you can see him trying to get back on that even plane. He loves Robbe so much and would never want to make him feel uncomfortable but for that split second, the comfort they have built wavered and Sander’s ability to be completely vulnerable was questioned… until it wasn’t and all was well for the moment because they talk and love and try. I love that they did that. I love that Sander’s inherent need for closeness was brought to light and Robbe’s need to GIVE affection was shown to be so true… only in person. Robbe thrives off that honest touch whereas Sander is grounded by it, comforted by it and finds it necessary...so without it is left floundering. THE LAYERS, guys. Rolling around in them!!!!

Clip 5 and we see Sander questioning himself. Sander still hasn’t quite felt ok since the other night and he’s letting it affect him. That questioning himself is the same stuff we saw pre-final reunion where he allows his issues to cloud his judgement and he spirals a little when left to his own devices. It’s that insecurity that Robbe managed to settle in him, that push and pull they have but Sander is human and he’s struggling and Robbe’s not there to provide that settlement. He doesn’t RELY on Robbe so much as WANT him because he makes things better. The fact that all the while, Robbe is learning how far his own ability to provide affection and closeness from afar is able to go by seeking advice from Milan makes me want to weep… because the writing is perfect! Of course he is. Everything we know about him tells us he’d do this!

So we’re in present day and I can’t wait to see what they do next. The way they write these two separately and together shows so much understanding of who the characters are, what they mean to each other and this great respect for honouring what they’ve created with so much gentle nuance and emotion. If the past 50000000000 words didn’t suggest it clearly enough - I love what they’re doing so much!

If you’re still awake after all that, you’re super human. Thank you for reading and this post is LONG overdue but it’s here and as rambly as you’d expect. Robbe’s specific post will be along soon! <3

#wtfock

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my-happy-little-bean · 4 years

Text

Rooftop Reassurance

words: 1851 pairing: logince warnings: talks about committing suicide (though no one dies), alcohol consumption, depression, swearing, breakups summary: logan finds a stranger one night sitting on balcony rails in tears, a thousand feet above the city below; then find roman six months later, standing on a table singing with a bright grin. both occurrences confuse him, but he decides to chat with him for both. based on the prompt: you saw him on the rooftop twice; once at a party, and the other when he was sitting on the ledge.

a/n - pt. 3 of ‘let’s indulge bean in their slightly low quality, very personal fics’ ~ (a real series now on ao3 oops–)

this time, this was all inspired by one of my deep dives on tik tok at 3 am. yes, i’m actually writing based off a tik tok. this is where i’m at now (there’s funny people there alright–)

anyway here’s hoping that this all makes sense and is good enough to justify me posting it, heh :’)

enjoy!

read on ao3~

---

“Holy shit.”

Virgil lowered his drink. “What?”

Logan didn’t give Virgil a response, instead moving past him in the direction his eyes were set on. He didn’t even look back when Virgil made an attempt to further question him.

He knocked into a few drunk shoulders in his haste, making his way to the rooftop entrance.

Logan had been to Patton’s apartment a few times and for some strange reason, there was always a party happening. Maybe that was because, for an even stranger reason, Patton always had something to celebrate.

The day he found him was after Patton’s almost-birthday party.

Streamers weaved themselves through the balcony railing, the sign reading “Happy Birthday (for real this time)!” now lopsided and close to the floor. Logan’s eyes scanned the entire scene until he saw

A man, sitting on the rails of the balcony, with his legs dangling over the edge and in the air.

Roman, standing on a table, holding his drink high in the air with a big grin.

Logan slowly approached him, afraid that if he made any sudden movements, the ghost of him would disappear in an instant.

However, when he got close enough to the man, he realized this was no ghost.

In fact, Roman was already responding to him, hopping off the table and waving a few friends off before going in his direction.

Logan felt a chill run down his spine.

“Hey!” Roman said brightly, holding his arms up for what appeared to be a hug. Logan, still stiff from surprise, simply let it happen. “What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Logan echoed incredulously. “You’re standing on a table.”

“Are you alright?”

Roman blinked. “I’m fine!”

“ Totally fine.”

Logan felt a smile drift onto his face, one of a foreign kind of relief he wasn’t expecting.

“It’s...well, it is really good to see you,” Logan said, pushing up his glasses. He could smell the beer off of Roman’s pearly grin. Oh well.

“You look...good,” Logan hesitantly added.

The man laughed so hard, but didn’t turn around. He doubled over in his hysterics, and Logan’s breath hitched.

“Why thank you, Microsoft nerd!” Roman chirped, still laughing as he reached over to grab Logan’s hand. The contact made Logan’s head spin.

“So are you going to dance with me?”

“Because no one danced with me tonight.”

Logan blinked.

“Dance?”

“This is a party, bro-chacho!” Roman let go of his hand to swing his arm around Logan’s still-tense shoulder. “We gotta dance! Besides, it’s the least I can do for

the man who’s gonna save my life,” the man laughed again. “Is that who you’re gonna be?”

Logan paused. “It is unreasonable of me to assume I could save your life, but I can get you standing next to me, which would be a good start.”

He outstretched his hand to the man who wasn’t even looking at him.

“Please,

Roman, you don’t have to repay me for anything,” Logan said slowly. “I haven’t talked to you in so long;I am just glad to see you.”

The man turned his head slightly. Against the forgotten fairy lights’ hues, Logan could see streaks of black mascara trailing down his cheeks. Then, he turned his head back, facing away from him once more.

“I’m glad to see you too,” Roman said; more softer, more vulnerable this time. “Sorry, I’m not like, keeping you from anything am I? I kinda just saw you and went for it, heh. I can let you go back to whatever you’re doing...?”

“No no,” Logan hummed.

“I’m going to sit with you.”

Roman nodded readily with that glowing smile again, taking Logan’s hand once more and leading them to a quiet corner of the balcony, next to the rails

Logan did his best to climb over, shakily settling himself a thousand feet above the ground.

“You should get off,” the man said darkly.

“You should as well.”

“How have you been doing?” Logan asked as he and Roman sat on a couch next to each other. Roman smiled, almost sheepishly.

“Better, actually,” he admitted. “I’ve been seeing someone.”

Logan felt the words "already?" sit on his tongue, but he decided to actively practice this 'empathy' Patton had mentioned to him once.

“Ah really?”

“Yeah.” Roman’s smile only grew. “His name is Dr. Picani. He's really good at his job.”

“I got dumped,” the man groaned, seemingly giving up on getting Logan to leave him alone. His grasp on the rails tightened, which Logan was secretly thankful for. “I know it’s a stupid reason for being this upset and an even stupider reason to be sitting on a balcony because it was never really a good relationship to begin with, but fuck I loved him and he was the only familiar thing in my life keeping me…”

He lifted one hand to wave it around, wobbling ever so slightly. He seemed to be struggling to find words because he finished by saying, “You know?”

“Please be careful–”

“I just don’t fucking get it,” the man cut him off. He motioned over to the city below them, barely buzzing as the late night simmered into early morning. “Isn’t this the part in life where everything clicks? When you’re 28 with someone you love and a job you don’t hate? Isn’t this the part where you stare out at the world you live in and smile because you got past the bad shit and now you’re here?”

Logan sighed.

“I...I don’t think that part ever comes.”

“This is the worst rooftop reassurance ever.”

“Oh." Logan chuckled. "Well, he sounds like a very positive presence in your life.”

“You know, you can just say you’re happy for me,” Roman teased, nudging him slightly, “you know, like a normal person?”

Logan blushed. “I am happy for you.”

“When’s the part where I’m happy, then?” the man continued. New tears seemed to run across dried ones. “If that part never comes, is there at least a part where I’m just...okay?”

“Of course there is.” Against his better caution, he lifted his own hand and rested it against the stranger’s knee. “There are plenty of moments; better moments. There is no singular part in which your life changes for the better and stays that way forever, but there is a continuous stream of...of better moments.”

“I never got to formally thank you for that night,” Roman said once some silence had passed. He giggled again, all light and airy. “Well, never got to thank you properly. I was too drunk when I said thank you that night, so that doesn’t count.”

“You are also drunk now.”

“...that’s besides the point.” Roman cleared his throat. “So to make up for it, I– Roman Prince– would like to say

“I’m sorry,” the man said. He laughed again, all dark and heavy. “I know it’s probably not a great look, to be drunk and sitting on the edge of a balcony that’s waaaay too high above the ground–"

“Glad we are finally addressing that.”

“–but I appreciate the fact that you stayed. Really, I do.”

Logan nodded. “Of course, Roman.”

A beat of silence.

“I...I wasn’t going to jump.” Roman cleared his throat. “Obviously.”

Logan gulped, suddenly afraid. “Obviously.”

“I just needed to clear my head.”

“Understandable.”

“But– and now this is going to sound concerning but it’s not–”

“Not a great way to preface this–”

“But imagine if I did fall?” The man tilted his head upwards at the moving clouds above them. “All those feelings, rushing through you one by one as gravity pulls you down, down, down…”

Logan, for a moment, let himself stare at the stranger as he talked. After all, he didn’t have the words to respond to his ramble, so he decided to listen.

Roman must have decided to move on from their seemingly sentimental conversation because he spontaneously launched into a subject Logan knew nothing about. Still, Logan did his best to listen.

Roman’s eyes seem to light up like lightning without the thunder that kept the storm alive.

He waved his hands so animatedly, which Logan never understood; no human had to express themselves with that much physicality, yet when he was still, he didn’t seem to be human at all.

And he was beautiful, Logan couldn’t help but think.

Why didn’t he see that?

“Hey!” Logan jumped as Roman snapped his fingers in front of his face. “You okay?”

“You’ve been quiet for a while,” the man said, snapping Logan out of his trance. “Did I go too far?”

“No, no you didn’t.” Logan shakily pushed up his glasses. “It’s just…”

He sighed.

“The way you talk alone is something worth staying alive for.” Logan took a deep breath and lifted his gaze to meet him. “I know this isn’t the happiest story but… but you need to tell everyone your stories, no matter what kind. Everyone needs to hear you, at least once.”

“I’m okay,” Logan said, pushing up his glasses and straightening up. “Sorry, I was just...thinking.”

“Thinking?” “About–

the way this stranger smiled

–that night.”

Roman stiffened at the words, and Logan hastily went to pick them back up, adding, “Um, we do not need to talk about it anymore if you so desire–”

“Nah, it’s okay!” Roman, to his surprise, blushed. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just don’t want your impression of me to forever be tainted by that night.”

Logan shook his head softly. “You are much more to me than a moment of sadness.”

“It’s not all sad, though,” the man said through sniffles. “I mean...I just attended a really great party.”

“Even if the party was for a made up occasion?”

“All occasions are made up.”

“...touché.”

“Plus, I kinda made a friend.” His voice seemed much quieter than the louder, more thunderous one that painfully struck with every word it spoke. “And that makes me feel a lot better.”

“It does?” Logan frowned. “But I didn’t solve anything. I just...said things.”

“Yeah.” The lightning in his eye seemed to fade into a small twinkle. “Sometimes that’s all someone needs.” A pause. “Does...does that sound stupid? I probably sound stupid.”

“Hey,” Roman suddenly said, “I know this is rather forward of me–”

“I feel as though nothing is quite too forward for you–”

“–but could I maybe grab some drinks with you sometime?” Roman blushed. “It can be coffee, heh. Don’t want to always be drunk and stupid around you.”

“You’re not stupid.”

“That would perhaps be a wise choice,” Logan said with a small laugh. Roman grinned at the sound.

“I just want to get to know you,” Roman said, leaning in closely; close enough that Logan was blinking so hard trying to focus on him properly. “And...and I want to have a better moment with you.”

Logan smiled.

“I’m glad I could be here for you…”

“Roman,” the man– Roman– said. “I’ll shake your hand when we’re down from up here and you can tell me yours, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Logan finally said. “I’d like that.”

---

reblogs/likes/whatever would be lovely ~

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #logince #gabbie writes things #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #logan sanders #roman sanders #logan/roman #logic/creativity #logic #creativity #virgil sanders #patton sanders #hurt/comfort

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sorathemasterofmasters · 4 years

Note

If you could say one thing to your friends after all these years, what would it be?

How bold of you to assume he was only going to say one thing.

The following related excerpt is from the Master Reports Fic which I think I’ll just post bits and pieces that apply to Kingstagram posts.

“So he was recently in Daybreak Town Clocktower, we know that at least, where else could he go?” Asked Riku aloud as the group ascended the stairs of Yen Sid’s Tower. “The guy is thousands of years old he could be anywhere, he's probably on the other end of the galaxy sipping mojitos on a tropical island and laughing at us” Lea snarked as he opened the door to Yen Sid’s office. "Or I could be right where fate dictates I should be." The voice came suddenly out of nowhere, lounged carelessly on Yen Sid’s own seat idly flipping through an old book with his black booted feet propped nonchalantly on the desk. The Master of Masters familiar spiky brown hair peeking out of the hood, grinned shamelessly one eye closed over an empty socket the right eye blue slit and gazing over the group in amusement. Lea lunged forward before he could think keyblade drawn, yet the Master of Masters merely rolled his remain eye and sighed disappointedly “Haa, attacking me with the keyblade I forged? Sooo stupid.” “What!” Lea exclaimed as his keyblade dispelled mid-strike into sparkles then grunted as he was slammed backward into the wall with stunning force by an invisible wave. Powerful magic bore down on everyone in the room preventing any movement. “Now now” Sora- no- the Master of Masters, tutted with a sunny smile in a condescending tone momentarily taking his single eye off the page he was reading. "I'll get to you in a moment" he went back to reading one of Yen Sid’s books Riku noted, totally disregarding their presence as if they weren't a threat, how strong was this version of Sora? The Master of Masters sighed tiredly evidently having found what he was looking for. Nonchalantly taking his feet off the desk and placing the book open on the table before him, his single blue slit eye trailed over the group. "I'll admit, I hadn't intended for us to meet quite like this, but I suppose sentiment was stronger than destiny in this case." “Sora?” Riku breathed shock at seeing this older version of his friend in the flesh pinning him in place and at a complete loss as to what to say. Ventus on the other hand had plenty to say or rather shout “Why are you acting like this?!” For a moment the Master of Masters looked puzzled “Like what, Oh Wait! Are you talking about all those Kingstagram Entries I forgot to delete?” The Master of Masters coughed, embarrassed and scratched the back of his head in a familiar Sora-esque mannerism “Yeah.. my bad. I’ve been using it as a diary for the last few thousand years as you know by now. Forgetting to turn off its network capabilities is probably the first mistake I’ve made in hundreds of years, to be honest!” The older Sora’s laughter was almost the same his voice different, almost manic. Riku spoke up cautiously looking with his eyes and his heart for any trace of his friend “Do you hold a grudge against us or something? We didn't know we were hurting you Sora. And once we did we’ve been trying to fix things-” The Master of Masters waved Riku off with a gesture mid apology “I know, and it's nice and all but this really has nothing to do with that or you, In fact, if I hadn't messed up then we’d have never met and I could have spared you the heartache I know you’re feeling” The expression on the Master of Master's face was inscrutable his thoughts hidden in that instance. Mickey wasn't so sure though and in his heart doubted this version of Sora had let go of something so fundamental “Surely something remains in your heart!” The Master of Master's gaze rested on Mickey a reassuring smile out of place on this version of their friend inadvertently sending shivers down the spines of Guardians of Light. “Oh Mickey, I have nothing but respect for you, unfortunately those bound by fate must follow it regardless of personal feelings. So how is the other me? Actually happy? Less suicidal ideation disguised as self-sacrifice?” The Master of Masters nodded to himself “I can see it in your expressions, that's good I suppose his death is no longer necessary so we can skip that bit of teenage drama” The Master of Masters tilted his head childishly examining the group in front of him “well I can't say I don't like this change to the Guardian of Light roster!” The Master of Master's gaze trailed over the group.

“Kairi, The only Princess of Heart capable of wielding a keyblade.

Riku, Wielder of both Light and Darkness in equal measure.

Ventus formerly of Aced’s Ursa Union the least bloodthirsty one in fact, the one I hand-picked to help Ephemer lead the Dandelions exodus to escape the shattering of the Realm of Light and ensure the Keyblade wielders did not go extinct.

King Mickey Mouse, Wielder of the Kingdom Key D that I dropped in the Realm of Darkness during my escape from the shattering.

Aqua, left to languish in the Realm of Darkness for ten years, an amazing feat of survival.

The absent wielders, Roxas, the Nobody that developed his own heart out of sheer stubbornness.

Xion, a replica puppet that also developed her own heart by the strength of her own memories and the bonds she herself formed.

Lauriam the wielder who’s actions alerted me to the intruder in the Dandelions Sanctuary, slain by Maleficent as she inadvertently damaged the dataworld and forced them to evacuate before the worlds were safe to traverse.

Elrena, perished in the evacuation but possessing such a strong heart that she re-manifested in real world. My younger self who can connect with hearts on a level unheard of in recorded history.”

The Master of Masters paused his eye resting contemplatively on Lea “..and then there's you” a brief silence engulfed the room. “Honestly” The Master of Masters sighed “bequeathing, a last resort for when none are worthy of the actual honor.” “You take that back” Lea growled the other Guardians also raising their hackles at the Master of Masters insinuation. “Hmmm? No I don't think I will.” The Master of Masters spoke measuredly and shrugged “I designed every keyblade to exist, they were made to be very choosy when it comes to their wielders, not be passed down to the unworthy like trinkets on a whim.” the word trinkets spat like an expletive full of scorn enough to make the room flinch. “Where's Master Yen Sid?” asked Mickey warily keeping an eye on the intimidating Lost Master before them. The Master of Masters tilted his head as if confused “Hmm? Oh that old coot? He's around.” The Master gave a half-hearted gesture with an off-hand a grin slowly creeping along his face “I had a lot of fun stripping him of his mastery through” The Master of Masters grinned like a cat and Mickey yelped as his own hastily summoned Keyblade vanished against his will in a blaze of light. The Master of Masters tutted once again waggling a finger. “Come on now, You seriously didn't think The Master of Master title was an empty one did you? Right now? None of you are a match for me as you are, you can't even stand without shaking!” The shaking, a sign of the group trying to escape their confinement and failing miserably. “What do you want?” shouted Riku irritated beyond belief despite himself, the Master of Masters smiled oddly for a second then gave a barking laugh taking them all aback wiping an imaginary tear from his eye “I’ll admit I honestly forgot you had such an angry base expression. Well, what I want? I want a lot of things, some transitory and some more permanent. All things I can get without your input, permission or interference. I mean I could put you down for the duration, but, where would be the fun in that?” The group flinched as the Master of Masters sunny tone and how at odds it was with the very real dark threat in his gaze. “So anyway...” The Master of Masters snapped his fingers once causing everyone in the room to stagger still paralyzed under his magical might as a strange sensation tingled throughout their bodies. “I'll settle for delaying you a little bit” “What did you do to us?!” grunted Ven peculiar weakness running through his limbs. “Hmm, oh nothing that hasn't been done before to one of your numbers, you’re going to have to earn those Keyblade’s this time just like he did, just like I did. I'll even throw in a power boost if you do it the right way. Won't that surprise the Norts?” The Master of Masters laughed at their furious gazes. “Are you on his side?” Asked Kairi warily. The Master of Masters snorted “Xehanort? Not in this life or any other and don't worry he won't come after you for a long while yet, which should give you plenty of time to get stronger.” The Master of Masters perked up abruptly, whiplashing between moods fast enough to give the group a headache “Soooo.. anyway if you want to retrieve those keyblades of yours then you should probably find those replacement Darknesses Xehanort was harping on and on and on about.” “Why are you helping us!” demanded Aqua “I doubt it's from the goodness of your heart.” The Master of Masters chuckled “Nope, You’d be right there but you see, cornered rats can cause a lot of damage and Xehanort? He’s just lost how many of his Darknesses now?” That made the group pause as the Master of Masters continued to point out something they hadn't considered yet “He'll be anxious to replace them and Xehanort never functioned well when it comes to improvisation. He might inadvertently cause a lot of damage to the worlds and I do kinda need them more or less intact” The Master of Masters shrugged considering and amending his statement ominously “Well, the people at least.” The Master of Masters got up from Yen Sid’s seat and stretched walking past the paralyzed group before pausing snapping the air as though in realization "By the way that book on the desk? Your gonna want to read it before Yen Sid gets back, just saying." With that parting bit of advice, the Master of Masters darted leisurely out the door. It was five minutes before the lingering power of the Master of Masters dissipated enough for anyone to move, signaling his exit from the world. Silence reigned in the tower for a long time after that.

This little bit of MoM!Sora insanity came to me in the middle of the night in a dream, I think I got MoM!Sora’s character about right and I now think the best strategy for writing this lovable lunatic is to throw a dart at a D&D alignment chart and write him like that for that chapter. ... Is it working? I think its working. Also sorry about any bad spelling or grammar.

Anyway, everyone else not present at The Mysterious Tower panicked at the new Kingstagram post but couldn't do anything as MoM!Sora posted it after this confrontation.

This Post is also in part a answer to another post that asked for a star wars style confrontation, Unfortunately that post went missing due to Tumblr UI being the burning glitch of a trashfire baby we all know and loathe. So, Sorry whoever asked that.

#AskMoM!Sora #MoM!Sora #Sora As the Master of Masters #sora!master of masters #master of masters #TheMasterReportsAU #sora kh #kingdom hearts

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nadiaportia · 3 years

Text

Groom-Show

Summary: Cibela needs the approval of someone to take an important step in her life

Word count: ~4k

One of various fics I wrote in the last couple of weeks, whether I’ll post the rest... I’ll see. But for now, enjoy a short introduction to the third and eldest Rubalcaba sister and the last of my main OCs to properly appear in a fic. ❤

“So I was thinking: last names. We could keep it all like it is... or we can get a little bit inspired by Kerusksch traditions and take the other’s name: traditional with Cibela Heßling, or progressive and modern with Aníbal de Rubalcaba-”

“No. We keep it like this.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Aníbal said after some hesitation to Cibela’s relief. She didn’t need to have this discussion now, especially since it was futile - she would remain a Rubalcaba, he a Heßling. She knew he desired to be officially taken into their family but it wouldn’t happen - even with a marriage or one day a shared child.

“What is the Grand Marshall of Galbrada saying? That’s his sigil at the bottom, right?” He tried to peek into the scroll she was studying, and she let him.

“It’s a plea for help against marauding mercenary troops coming from the South of the Emerald Sea. Small fish, but with our help they’re crushed in an instant.”

“So, do you wanna go? I mean, it would be great, you could gain a lot of support from the troops if you fight alongside them.”

Cibela briefly looked up and studied his face. She knew he wanted her to but at the same time would miss her. “I will send Ippolita in my stead. She’s capable enough to handle this on her own, and with my instructions little can go wrong. The Galbradans are desperate, and I don’t need to be there to throw a bone their way. My signature will suffice.”

“Will they know it’s yours? I mean, forgery and such.” He grinned, obviously an attempt at a joke. Cibela quirked an eyebrow at him in amusement.

“Do you want me to go?”

Aníbal furrowed his brows. “What? No!” He bent over to kiss the knuckles of one of her hands holding the scrolls. “If it were up to me, we’d stay forever in Cartagenth! Occasionally coming to this place to have a bit of time for ourselves, away from all the troubles of the capital, free to do whatever we want.”

He kissed the back of her hand, shifted closer to her and wrapped an arm around her waist before he peppered her jaw with kisses.

“Aníbal.”

Her companion hummed in response and gently turned her face towards him. Some strands of light brown hair had fallen loose and onto his forehead, his green-brown eyes were fixed on her lips and there was a slight red tint to his fair skin tone.

“I know, I know, there’s plenty of time when we’re at the residence, but I think the danger of getting caught is getting to me a little.”

That was a sentiment Cibela did not share in the least. The worst thing that could happen in this scenario was the carriage stopping and while Tía Esmé and Agustín were in the carriage in front of them and thus most likely wouldn’t notice anything for a while, Ximena and Heloisa were right behind them. Xime, of course, was more likely to simply either not go there mentally or shake her head and move on with whatever she was doing but Heloisa being Heloisa has never been one to waste an opportunity to make an innuendo or another kind of remark, be it to get under Aníbal’s or her skin. And besides, she was in the mood for anything but an impromptu make-out session that could lead to more.

She gently pushed him away. “Not now. Not when I’m feeling like a pig led to the slaughter.”

Aníbal instantly backed away. “Ah, yes, I… almost forgot about that. I mean, I’m trying to just not think about it because I’ll get nervous and then I get all sweaty and your mother’s going to think me a complete tool.”

Cibela waved away his concerns. “Don’t worry about her, she’s going to love you.”

Aníbal nodded. “Okay. Fine. You told me she’s nice, so I believe you.”

“Oh, she’s very amicable. Just don’t… talk about any of your weaknesses. Try to exile the expression ‘I can’t’ from your mind for the duration of the crossfire she’s going to put you under.”

“... I think I’ll be able to do that. I hope she’ll like my gift.”

For a moment neither said anything. “Actually,”, Cibela began, “I think it’s a better idea if you just… don’t give it to her.”

When Aníbal raised a brow at her, she merely shrugged. “I told you before, you’re not going to be able to buy her love, and material goods are as good as meaningless to her.”

“It’s a vase from the fifth century of the Golden Age of Bizatena, it belonged to the Emir himself-”

“-yes, and it doesn’t matter. Unless it’s something you made yourself, it’s practically worthless because she could just buy it herself. What does matter though is what you say to her, and the impression she gets.”

Aníbal stared at her and then nodded meekly. “I think I can see your point.” Then after a brief hesitation: “So we keep the vase?”

“Yes, it’s a nice vase.”

He took a deep breath. “I think I just caught your nervousness.”

Well, damn. Cibela took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “No need for that, love. Really.” She tried to give him a reassuring smile, fully knowing she was unable to bring across actual ease.

She hadn’t lied about her mother most likely loving him - hell, she probably had fallen in love with him the moment she heard about him from Tía Esmé - but when it came down to everything, her opinion didn’t actually matter. Esmé’s did, and Esmé was much tougher in her judgment.

When they left the pine forests of the most Southern province of Calpacia, controlled by the Duque of Linpauxa and close to the Northern border of Oriol, Cibela knew it wouldn’t be much until they got to the Summer Palace. Were this be any other occasion, she would feel nostalgic about returning here, remember the many times she had travelled here with her parents, feel like a young girl again.

Aníbal’s soft hand holding her own callused one didn’t relax her in the least but she didn’t let go of him until the carriage stopped and someone knocked on the door.

“Mi señora, Don Aníbal, we have arrived at your residence.” The servant said and opened the door for them. They already had their hand at the ready for Cibela to take it and be helped down from the carriage. She nodded at the servant when she was on the ground and turned to see both Tía Esmé and Agustín approaching her.

“How was your ride?” She asked and straightened her back.

“Just fine, the usual.” Tía Esmé’s voice sounded tired. If her aunt were anything like most old women, Cibela would have assumed she had fallen asleep during the ride, but it was more likely she had simply grown bored with staring out of the window.

“What about yours?” Agustín yawned, he must’ve slept for sure.

Cibela shrugged. “It was alright. Not a lot happened.”

“Well, I liked it. The scenery is amazing, you must be so happy to have this place. I remember Bela said some ancestor was from here.”

“Yeah, Saturnina de Pollensa. A great leader revered by the people of Linpauxa.” Esmé spoke with undeniable pride in her voice, to which Agustín made a grimace at.

“And also a notorious robber baroness. But nobody’s perfect, I suppose. Where’s Xime and Heloisa?”

Tía Esmé gave her son a cold glance but turned her attention to the missing last carriage. “They probably stopped at the city, at least Lola mentioned on our last stop she wanted do that.”

“We can wait inside, I don’t want to grow roots near the gates.” Cibela tried to calm her growing unease and standing around waiting for someone was the opposite of calming; she wanted to get this over with as soon as possible - and she wanted to see her mother.

“Agustín, wait for your cousins and instruct the servants where to take the luggages. I’ll go with Cibela to see Marisol.”

As she passed them by, Aníbal gave her a questioning look but said nothing, until Cibela gave him a look that basically insisted on him coming along as well. She didn’t want him to be singled out and shoved off to the side, much less realized that someone was trying to do that.

The Summer Palace was an impressive building, made of salmon red sandstone with white decorations and tall high windows. There were a total of 23 rooms, which made it smaller than the Palace in which the De Rubalcabas resided since five-hundred years in the outskirts of Cartagenth, but she had always preferred being here than in the capital. It was calmer, there wasn’t an obnoxious amount of people, both locals and foreigners who brought their petty little infighting to court, and the weather was a lot more pleasant to her personally than the tropical temperatures and rain seasons of the North. One winter, she remembered, it had snowed here so much that they couldn’t leave the grounds and they had been isolated for three days, and those days they had spent entertaining themselves with all sorts of games.

The servants opened the door when Tía Esmé approached the building and bowed deeply as she passed by. They kept their heads down when Cibela did and somehow this gave her a surge of confidence so she held her own head up high and tried to look the part of a future marquesa the best she could.

The entry foyer was, to their surprise, not empty but occupied a small woman with brown hair on one of the couches. A walking stick was leaning against her leg and she was coughing just as they entered the hall.

“Mi amor!” Marisol de Rubalcaba exclaimed and stood up quickly. Cibela didn’t wait for her mother to come over but bridged the distance between them in long strides and embraced her tightly. Judging by the trembling of her body, her mother was trying to not cry, preserve some dignity. She rubbed her back and gently stroked her hair for a few seconds before letting go and looked at her daughter’s face.

“It’s so good to see you again, Bela,”, she said with a smile and tears in her eyes. She was just a little smaller than her, a few centimeters, but she had thinned considerably since the last time she had seen her, her once slender face looked almost gaunt now with a grey tinge having replaced the warmth on her cheeks. Her brown hair was dull when looking at it close up and had more grey patches as well, and the fine lines in her face had deepened; she looked as if she had aged at least seven years in the last single one.

Would that happen to Cibela too one day, would her strength abandon her? Or would she remain strong and steady like Tía Esmé, who with even sixty years was every bit as healthy as a woman in her forties?

“Marisol.” Esmé, who together with Aníbal had taken a step back, now came over to them.

Mother hesitantly let go of her and turned towards her older sister. “Esmerelda. I’m glad you’re here.”

She also hugged her, and Tía Esmé held her tightly, perhaps even tighter than Cibela herself had.

“How are you feeling?” Her aunt gently took a strand of hair in between her fingers and in a rare moment of tenderness smiled earnestly at her sister.

“Better. The air of the sea treats me kinder than the capital. If I had known, I would’ve convinced Valentín to stay here and never leave years ago.”

Cibela swallowed at her mother’s words. She hadn’t come here to talk about her dead father, and it wasn’t what she wanted to be reminded of.

“Let us hope it will continue to do so and improve your condition.” Tía Esmé rubbed her sister’s back and only now Marisol seemed to notice the third guest. The look she gave him at first was one of confusion, then curiosity and after throwing a brief side glance to Cibela, one of glee.

“And who are you, young man?” She took the walking stick and made her way over to Aníbal who until now had stood a little awkwardly in the foyer.

“This is Aníbal Heßling.” The snarl in Esmé’s voice had not escaped Cibela but while her mother must’ve noticed, she simply chose to ignore it.

“Aníbal, eh? So you’re the fine gentleman at the side of my eldest daughter?” She wore a gentle smile, and for a moment there was some of her characteristic charisma back from her days as First Adviser of the Zaan. Aníbal’s pale face tinged slightly with color and he bowed.

“Marquesa Marisol, it is an honor to finally meet you.” He took her mother’s hand and placed the ghost of a kiss on the back of it.

“Oh no, the honor is all mine, Don Aníbal.”

Tía Esmé cleared her throat. Cibela threw her an icy look, to which Esmé merely responded with an indifferent raise of her eyebrow.

“Marisol, I think we should have a conversation about this soon enough, maybe after dinner?”

Marisol paused, and looked from her sister to Aníbal. Then she grinned and nodded. “I think that is a wonderful idea, after a full stomach we are all surely in a better mood. I specifically told the cooks to make ceviche, Bela. What do you like, Don Aníbal?”

...

By the time dinner started, Ximena and Heloisa were already back after they had indeed stopped at the town by the sea for a small shopping tour. Ximena wore a necklace with pieces of coral of an intense vermillion and Heloisa had gotten a brooch made of mother-of-pearl and lapis lazuli in the shape of an emperor angelfish.

“The merchant said his husband had brought this from Prakra, where this species of fish can be found en masse.” Heloisa said proudly to Tía Esmé who approvingly nodded while watching the brooch.

“It’s a very beautiful art piece.”

Tía Esmé sat to the right side of Marisol; Cibela herself to her mother’s left. Aníbal was next to her as her companion on her silent insistent demand and had been trying to make small talk during the dinner with her mother.

“So, Bela told me you used to come here on the regular?”

“Ah, yes, that is very true. My husband and I would travel here with her for some weeks during the storm season, but by the time Heloisa was born, I was already first counselor. Not enough free time as I would’ve liked.”

“Yep.” CIbela gave Heloisa a sharp look who nonchalantly chewed on a shrimp, and Ximena scoffed in response as well.

“Oh, and the food is great!” Aníbal said quickly and raised his glass of red wine to her. “I am already loving this stay.”

Marisol laughed gently. “I can see that you’re enjoying yourself.”

Cibela didn’t miss the look Agustín and Ximena, who sat the furthest away from the head of the table, exchanged and took another bite of ceviche to focus on something else.

“Well, there’s no place I’d rather be right now.” Aníbal leaned over to Cibela and pressed a greasy kiss on her cheek. Esmé showed no outward emotion but she could have sworn she saw the corners of her mouth twitch in something close to amusement.

“I can think of a few.” Heloisa’s grin widened as she noticed the reddening of Aníbal’s ears.

Cibela wished that Aníbal would leave it at that and not rise up to her sister’s bait - but of course, that wasn't going to happen. “What I meant is that there is no thing more important than family, especially if it's such a loving one.”

“So you're not courting Cibela anymore?” Agustín's remark earned the sharp looks of Esmé and Marisol, and Cibela responded with a smile that was more akin to a sneer and a rude gesture.

“Now now, children, play nice, we're at a dinner table, not a war council.” Marisol said and tapped the table with her long fingernails. “Let us not frighten our guest, that's bad manners.”

“Don't worry, Doña Marisol, a family as highly regarded as yours, I'm sure bad manners aren't even in your vocabulary.”

Cibela resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. She understood he was trying to play along with the game, but she wasn't in the mood to see him grovel. Her sisters and cousin seemed to agree because Ximena frowned deeply as she took a big sip from her glass of iced wine, Agustín tried to look as uninterested in what was being said as a person could while Heloisa seemed to consider the phrase for a few seconds with more than enough facial expressions.

Marisol didn't seem to be sure whether to share that sentiment or be satisfied with it. She gave him a smile.

“Tell me a little about your family, Aníbal. I must admit I have not met them during my time at court?” She leaned forwards a little. When seated, Marisol de Rubalcaba was able to mask her fragility quite well, that deserved considerable respect.

“You might know my mother; Paloma de Cordovero.”

Marisol's eyes widened in recognition. “The junior assistant of the Third Judge! She went to-- I can't remember where it was that she went, I'm so sorry.”

A muscle in Aníbal's face twitched. A reminder of his relative low status among Cartagense nobility was not something he needed for his confidence.

“Keruska, where she met my father, the noble Baron Karl Diederich Heßling.”

“How lovely! And carrying his name and not hers even when you are in service to her sovereign, one is almost tempted to be charmed by the quaintness.” She laughed, and in its pitch it almost matched Heloisa's gentle laugh whenever she just said something insulting but tried to mask it as a joke. “But I don't mean to mock you, my boy, I'd be a hypocrite considering I fell in love with a man who wasn't even of noble blood.”

“Yes, Cibela told me about her father, the late Don Valentín. My condolences, truly, I am sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. It is… not an easy loss.” Some of the light in her mother's face faded away and Cibela was quick to bring the conversation back on track.

“But Aníbal is of noble blood, mother, there is no need for such comparisons. He is a vital part among the Information Council.”

“Information?” Marisol turned to Heloisa. “Is that true?”

Heloisa raised an eyebrow. “Is it? I would say so. One might even say that the entire Council is his fanclub.”

“Lola.” Esmé had not looked up when she spoke but Heloisa sighed. “He does a fine job, is diligent and has assisted me on the odd occasion. That's the truth. Yay.” She turned her wrists in faked excitement and then dedicated herself to her dinner plate.

“How many years are you at court now, Aníbal?”

“It'll be five now. I was recommended to ease relations between Keruska and Calpacia by Philipp II and the Zaan was satisfied enough with my work to allow me to remain permanently.”

“And also because your mother is Calpacian.” Esmé's calm tone cut through the air regardless. Cibela felt anger surge in her. Could she make it anymore obvious that she was unsatisfied with him?

“Yes, that as well.”

“Of course the Kerusksch want a strong ally like Cartagenth; they're a crumbling nation and the situation in the East has been a disaster for the last couple of years. It's no different than how the tribes beyond the walls of Hjalle treat each other: with open animosity and destructive warfare instead of diplomacy and negotiations.”

“To be frank I think comparing the political situation in the East with fighting savages is a bit facetious. One are civilized people who simply don't know how to solve their disagreement, and the other are scavengers who have no loyalty to anyone but themselves!” Marisol interjected. Esmé scoffed and then shrugged.

“Opportunists are still abundant. One ought to be smart about who you choose to ally yourself with.” Now she was directly looking at Cibela, and even though the temptation to tear her gaze away was strong, Cibela held against it and leveled her aunt calmly.

…

“I like him. I really do.”

“He reminds you of Papá.”

Marisol sighed and sat down on her bed. “Fine; he does. But he seems to like you an awful lot - all those little touches and the looks he gave you, there was so much love in the air.”

Cibela shook her head. She did not have her mother's inclination for romanticism at all, and this sort of talk seemed nothing but excessive while reeking of kitsch.

“Did you learn Kerusksch for him?”

“Mamá!” Cibela almost cried. “Don't be ridiculous… you know my tutor was a Kerusksch themselves.”

“I know - but it would've been a sweet gesture.” She beckoned her daughter to sit next to her. “And you seem to like him, which is what matters most.”

“But I don't think I love him the same way you loved Papá.”

“Oh, Bela.” Marisol gently touched her daughter's hair and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “No one loves the same way. You do it yours, less intense but more pragmatic. Whatever your choice is, I support you.”

“Thank you for that, as of now I think you might be the only one in my corner on that.” Cibela wished she could sound less bitter but Marisol knew her too well.

“Don’t pay so much mind to Esmerelda, my child. She is... just overly critical, but that is a constant. She will need her time.”

“What exactly did she say?”

Marisol shrugged. “A lot, not all of it worth repeating or for you to pay any mind to it. The way I know her at some point she is going to see you content and decided that it’s enough.”

Cibela knew exactly that this was never going to happen, hell might freeze over before Esmerelda de Rubalcaba would be at peace knowing someone was simply settling for something. But it was not a discussion she wanted to have right now, the morality of her mother’s eldest sister who had always been a protector figure in her eyes and figure of great inspiration to the point that she had left most official work in her hands despite her being the matriarch of their family was not something to touch upon in the middle of the night.

Bidding her mother a good night and almost not wanting to leave her embrace, she left her bedroom.

On the way to her own temporary chambers and just a hallway away from Marisol’s quarters, she came across someone she was not in a mood to see for at least the entirety of their two weeks stay.

“Get some rest instead of skulking around the halls like a restless wraith.” Tía Esmé's tone was cold like the shard of ice in her chest, and the look in her eyes sharp like a dagger. It was something reserved only for her - not once had Ximena and much less Heloisa been under that scrutinizing gaze, and if then surely so much less often than she had been its victim.

“I was talking to my mother.” Cibela straightened her back and pulled down her shoulders. She wouldn't let herself be intimidated.

“I know. And I can imagine just too well what she said.”

“So what?”

Tía Esmé shrugged. “Do what you think is right. I say you can do better.”

“Of course you say that.”

“You deserve someone with a backbone - something he lacks, and it is obvious to anyone who wishes to see so.”

Cibela scoffed. “In your eyes, those who give in to you are spineless and those who don't are self-absorbed fools.”

Esmé raised an eyebrow. Immediately Cibela shrunk a bit and cursed herself for doing so.

“You want him to be spineless because if he weren't, there could be a chance he might abandon you for someone else, something else.”

“Please, Tía, decide whether you want him to be power hungry or a sycophant. I might start to believe you're just making up reasons to deny me any happiness.”

“If this is the happiness you wish for, then I pity you. He is both because you need him to be both in order to tie him to you.” Her voice was so calm and gentle and it made Cibela angrier than if she had shouted. The muscles in her jaw were twitching aggressively and Esmé clearly enjoyed seeing her niece conflicted and irritated - it might push her to agree with her words. Then she sighed.

“If you're so content to marry a man leagues beneath you, I'm not stopping you, you'd go behind my back anyway.” Go be the failure that you have always been, it didn't take much to interpret the true meaning of what Tía Esmé said into her actual words.

“Thank you for your kind words, dearest aunt.”

Esmé didn't deign to reply to Cibela's words, dripping with sarcasm as they were. She merely gave her a piercing look for a few seconds and then continued her way along the hallway to her chambers.

After gathering herself, Cibela began walking away as well, careful to not turn around to see whether her aunt was still there or had already disappeared from her sight. That was a weakness she wouldn't allow herself to display.

#the arcana #my writing #the arcana fic #the arcana oc #cibela de rubalcaba

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cranehusbands · 4 years

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love, or lack thereof

pathfinder/wattson | natalie paquette; requited crushes; soulmate au; apex rarepair week; 1520 words

a/n: two for two, though this was posted a little later than yesterdays due to technical difficulties! sorry about that ^^;;

i have been really excited to write some wattfinder for a little while now, and this was the perfect opportunity to do so! we as a fandom need to treat them both as characters with their own autonomy and not infantilize them, and i think they could come to really understand each other! i wanted to show that through this fic, as well as throwing around the idea that soulmates aren’t always destiny - they’re people you find and bonds you forge through your own love and efforts. <3

once again for @apex-rarepairweek as the day 2 prompt, soulmates!

likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated

ao3 mirror in the reblogs!

Preview: And then there was Pathfinder, the happy little MRVN unit that brought that home to her in a totally different way. Ever trusting, much like herself, expressive in himself but never losing that happy tone in his voice. He cared for his friends - his family - and talked of travel and dreams, but never really knowing who he was, or why he was here. But despite that, he carried on with that in stride, forever blind to the future. [...] He treated her with kindness and love, and it came to the point that sometimes she missed his company and high fives, though this was… a different kind of loneliness than that she had once experienced as a child, alienated from any other children that would pass through due to her intelligence and special position. She couldn’t quite place her finger on what it was, but there was just… something about Pathfinder that she didn’t want to lose, not for a moment.

Soulmates are found, not made.

That’s what she’s always been told. That she would find her soulmate, or they would find her, somehow, isolated in her work for the Syndicate, seemingly barricaded behind the ring she was trying to create. Natalie grew up with stories in her head, about how her papa met her mother, his soulmate, or stories of true love and happiness that was just… found. It was nice enough, but it never seemed logical, to her. Who was willing to take that chance? Couldn’t it go wrong? Even as a child that dreamed in fairytales, the idea of a soulmate always worried her. The mark on the inside of her wrist always haunted her, and she thought that she could not escape the inevitable.

But she wasn’t a child hiding in that shadow anymore - she was a grown woman, a professional electrical engineers, and an Apex Legend. She had lost her father so suddenly, but gained her new family just as quickly, making her home beside her own creation. And she loved her new family dearly - Dr Caustic was a reserved man, but he valued her intelligence, and did not object to her rambling and flapping of her hands. Elliott was funny, always telling stories of his family and life on Solace, and Anita was a hell of a shot, giving her pointers whenever she could, but not with her usual abrasiveness - she was kinder, self-aware of her own tendency to be quite scary at times. Makoa was caring to her needs, Octavio appealed to her curiosity and the tendency to be rash once in a blue moon. The Apex Games was her house, but the Apex Legends were her home.

And then there was Pathfinder, the happy little MRVN unit that brought that home to her in a totally different way. Ever trusting, much like herself, expressive in himself but never losing that happy tone in his voice. He cared for his friends - his family - and talked of travel and dreams, but never really knowing who he was, or why he was here. But despite that, he carried on with that in stride, forever blind to the future. It was a blissful ignorance that she could admit she was almost jealous of - he was not bound by such an innate concept as a soulmate. But he was still soul searching, and still so loving and kind to everyone he met, even if they didn’t return the sentiment, like the world was his soulmate and he was ready to give out as many parts of him until it loved him back, as he loved it.

She’d held this sentiment as the two worked with and against each other through the seasons, the two of them forming a bond quite quickly due to his need for the occasional repair and her curiosity with his components. He treated her with kindness and love, and it came to the point that sometimes she missed his company and high fives, though this was… a different kind of loneliness than that she had once experienced as a child, alienated from any other children that would pass through due to her intelligence and special position. She couldn’t quite place her finger on what it was, but there was just… something about Pathfinder that she didn’t want to lose, not for a moment.

There was a quiet night, after a game that day, when there was a familiar voice at the door to her room, littered with parts and unusually messy (she liked to work that way).

“Miss Natalie?” The robot had caught her as she was working on her gear, a malfunction with her fences had caused a firefight with an unfair advantage, which was something she didn’t enjoy.

She jumped a little, pulling up her safety goggles with a small smile. “Pathfinder, hello! You… didn’t knock.”

“Oh, I did knock, you were just busy working, and I didn’t want to just stand there and scare you when you looked up, so…” He trailed off and sheepishly tapped his fingers together, and it seemed whatever annoyance she once had eased a little.

“A-ah, well… sorry about that, my friend. Did you need something? Is your grapple acting up again?”

“Oh, no, you fixed it really well! Thank you, friend.” The screen on his chest flashed like sunshine, as he tapped a hand against where his grapple was hidden in his metal shell. “Well, I just… I had some questions, and Elliott is out doing a press release, so I can’t ask him…”

Of course, Elliott was always his first choice - that worried her, for as much as she loved the trickster, she knew that he didn’t treat Pathfinder the best, or at least, as a friend should. That was something someone should speak to him about. Natalie took her safety goggles off and placed them on her desk, giving the robot her full attention. “Well, what’s up?”

He paused for a moment, assessing whether that was a pun or not before he nodded, taking a seat on the stool beside her. “Well, I wanted to ask… what’s a soulmate?”

The mention of the concept made her freeze, before she looked away for a moment and fiddled with a few loose wires in the base of her pylon. “Well, that’s… why do you ask?”

“I don’t know… I have heard a lot of people say it and celebrate it, but I never knew what it meant. Is it like… a super best friend?”

“In… a way. It’s a lover tied to you by destiny. The one you’re supposed to be with all your life… identified with a mark, l-like this one.” Slowly, she pulled off one of her thick work gloves and showed Pathfinder the inside of her wrist, where she bore a small, glowing mark.

“Oh… that’s pretty.”

“Mhm.”

“...You don’t think so?”

“Huh?” Natalie looked up, at the optic eye now staring up at her. “Well, it is pretty, but…”

“...Do you think it’s silly?”

She didn’t reply, only looked away. Silly, possibly - suffocating, almost definitely.

The robot didn’t respond back for a moment, simply looking at her with a small tilt of his head, before he continued with a thought out loud. “I think you should be able to find your own soulmate.”

“What?”

“Well, if they’re destiny, there’s no point in waiting around - that’s why I’m looking for my creator the way I am. You have to make noise to be heard.”

“That’s… oddly profound, my friend.”

He smiled, or at least, his screen did, a bright beaming yellow reflecting on the LEDs embedded in his chest, beating as any real heart would do - full of love, and hope. “Bloodhound taught me that one, they’re very smart.”

The engineer paused, before she couldn’t help but chuckle. “I suppose they are.”

Silence fell between them for another moment, but they did not move. She watched the robot shift in place on the stool, and for once, his screen was blank, nothing shown. It was oddly unnerving.

“Miss Natalie?”

“Oui, Pathfinder?”

“Do you want to be my soulmate?”

She was almost taken aback by the question, looking up to him with a slight eyebrow raise. “Pardon?”

“Well, I… it’s silly, but… everyone has been so nice, and that makes me happy, but whenever you’re nice to me I get even happier, and I’ve been searching for so much for so long that I-”

“-want to embrace what you have found?” She finished his thought with her own, watching him look to her and nod slowly. Of course, this made sense - the emotional wanderlust he held was soul searching, but he never knew what it was like to have something - someone - that was his. They were kindred souls, in that way, at least. Natalie smiled to herself. Of course - the loneliness she felt was longing for that comfort of love that she found. She just didn’t realize because it wasn’t something that she had just found… it was a bond she had nurtured, and cherished. A bond she had found. “...I will, Pathfinder.”

He paused, sitting up a little straighter in surprise before clapping his hands together, his heart on the screen glowing a warm, loving pink, almost welcoming her in before he held out a hand to her, pinkie finger extended in a promise. “We’ll be best soulmates forever!”

The engineer giggled, taking her own pinkie finger in his own and curling it around the cold metal appendage, a light dusting of pink brushing across her cheeks. “Pour toujours et à jamais. Always and forever.”

Pathfinder reached out and pressed his head against hers with a gentle bonk, which made her laugh again, bringing up a hand to hold what would have been his cheek, pausing for a moment at the red light reflected onto her skin before kissing his optic with a gentleness and tenderness she didn’t know she possessed. And for the first time since she could remember, Natalie wasn’t afraid of the future.

Soulmates could be found, but they could also be made - both figuratively and literally, it seemed.

#apex legends #pathfinder (apex legends)#wattson #wattfinder #apex rarepair week #apex legends tag #dahl.doc

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Worlds Collide, Chapter 5.1 (Biadore/Witney) - Albatross

AN: Well…this got long. Enough that it has to be posted in at least two parts and even after all these months, its still not entirely written. But hopefully I’ll have the second part finished and posted soon. Until then, thanks for staying with me 💜

Adore was like a breath of fresh air.

She brought a sort of lightness and laughter to Bianca’s life, not unlike how Shangela and Courtney did. She was always there with a beaming smile and a word of encouragement whenever Bianca needed it. And whatever she said, she meant, Bianca realized soon enough. She wasn’t one for subtleties, if she liked or disliked something, she had no problem saying it. If she thought one of the outfits Bianca was working on was absolutely hideous, she’d let her know. Always with a joke or teasing grin to follow soon after, but she was honest and Bianca appreciated that.

More than she ever thought she would.

It was nice not to have to guess so much or try to investigate via her powers. No, she only tried going into Adore’s mind twice and the mental spam she was bombarded with was quite enough, thank you very much. But whatever Adore was feeling at any given moment was fairly obvious, at least to her. She liked that simplicity.

And it wasn’t long before Bianca realized that Adore idolized her. She hung on Bianca’s every word, whether it be theater talk, related to schoolwork, or even just chatting about some TV show. She listened as though every syllable was the most interesting thing in the world and admittedly, Bianca loved that feeling.

It was a nice little ego boost.

As for Adore, it was hard not to look up to Bianca. She seemed so self-assured and confident. Calm and collected. People relied on her…why wouldn’t Adore want to be around someone like that? That wasn’t to say that people didn’t rely on Adore as well but at times she felt more like a pack mule than someone that actually contributed anything of value. Oftentimes she was asked to teleport to retrieve things or drop them off somewhere. An errand girl basically. But people respected Bianca’s opinions and that was what Adore admired most.

And, despite how emphatically Bianca denied it, she was kind. More than she ever liked to let on. It was a quiet, subtle kindness or buffered by extremely sarcastic comments but it was there all the same. Adore would see it in the way that Bianca would work extra hours to get an outfit just right to make a cast member happy, how she’d sometimes cover for other stage workers’ mistakes, when she’d lend out her notes without a second thought to a total stranger, and in the way she always tolerated Adore’s presence.

Adore knew she could be a bit too enthusiastic, too moody, even too combative at times. But Bianca was patient with her. She understood what Adore was feeling and let her express that. And she’d always try to help or talk to her whenever she could. Sometimes Adore just needed a sounding board and Bianca allowed that.

It was nice to feel like someone understood her.

Whenever Adore needed to get out of her head for a while, Bianca was always there to suggest an activity. Sometimes she let Adore help design her sketches, other times she taught Adore simple sewing techniques, but her latest proposal encouraged Adore to pick up an old pastime.

Instead of letting things fester, Bianca suggested trying her hand at writing lyrics again. She hadn’t written anything since moving to the school, at least not seriously, but once she began, it was like finding a lost piece of herself. It turned out to be more cathartic than she remembered.

Sure, her first attempts were a bit rough in the beginning but as she reviewed and revised, it all began to flow together. It felt as natural as a breeze whistling through the trees or a fish swimming in the cool creek water.

Before long, Bianca even supplied her with a notebook she picked up specially for her. It was filled with unlined pages and absolutely perfect for Adore’s dramatically slanting handwriting and tendency to scribble along the borders. Bianca even decorated the cover before giving it to her.

The moment Adore saw it and flipped through the blank pages, she knew it was perfect. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she beamed brightly at Bianca and gave her a very grateful, “Thanks!”

The pair grew closer and closer, enough that it was a rare sight not to see them together after classes had ended for the day. Oftentimes Adore could be found backstage with Bianca (along with Courtney) or the two would visit the greenhouse and even more frequently, they’d spend long hours talking into the night in Bianca’s room. Sure, others joined them as well but Adore always stayed the longest. Not that Bianca minded.

She was glad to have found Adore. She valued her as much as she had Shangela and Courtney.

The day she realized that, she felt odd about it. She hadn’t expected someone to become so important to her so soon…not after she was still getting over Shangela. But here Adore was; now one of her closest friends and in only a few months…almost as quickly as she and Shangela had connected with each other.

But Adore did have that way about her. She drew Bianca in and made her curious. Made her want to see Adore happy.

It felt good to care about someone like that again and to have the sentiment returned.

For the first time in a long while, Bianca felt normal again.

******

It was another typical afternoon for the pair; Bianca working on the latest batch of adjustments for the musical’s costumes and Adore sitting on the old, beaten couch, hunched over her notebook. Usually when she was like this, she was rapidly scribbling away notes, filling up the page with rough drafts and hasty edits. Today however, her pen was mostly still, aside from the occasional impatient tapping.

Her expression was distant and confused as she lost herself inside her own head. She was clearly mulling over something, but as to what, Bianca had no clue. When she had to walk over towards the rack of clothes nearest Adore, Bianca snuck a quick peek over her shoulder. There were a lot of scribbles and a lot of crossing out but very little of anything that looked usable. Even that much Bianca could see.

Writer’s block again, she thought with a soft, sympathetic smile.

Adore was so withdrawn in her headspace she hadn’t even realized Bianca was standing next to her. The playful ruffling of her hair took her by surprise.

“Whatcha thinking about so hard, hun?” Bianca asked with a teasing grin. Adore’s hand quickly flew up to bat hers away. She took a short sidestep to rifle through the rack of clothes but she still kept a careful eye over her shoulder.

“I just…I can’t get it to sound right,” Adore complained, flopping backwards into the cushions. “Like, I know what I want to say but I just…can’t find the right words.”

Bianca let out a noise of understanding and thought for a moment. Pulling out the next piece she wanted to work on, she suggested, “Why not just take a break then? Fussing over it’s doing no good. Maybe just take a step back and work on something else for a while? Might help.”

“I’m gonna have to,” Adore conceded in a grumble. “It’s going nowhere right now.”

She shifted her weight as Bianca walked back to her work station. She kept it surprisingly organized considering how often she moved things around or laid them out for later. Adore marveled at how efficient she was. She always seemed to be a step (or three) ahead in everything she did. It was amazing.

Adore mused over the fact that she had never seen Bianca unprepared for any situation she encountered, no matter how sudden. She always seemed to know exactly what people wanted, even if they themselves didn’t know just yet. Then another thought struck her entirely…they’d known each other for months and Adore still had no idea what Bianca’s power was.

Actually, she wasn’t sure if anyone knew.

No one ever talked about it as far as she could remember. For most students, they’d mention it or demonstrate their power sooner or later. Some actively showed it off or had a practical use for it, like Courtney and Shangela repairing the school’s landscaping or working in the greenhouse…even Adore would often teleport whenever she felt the need to.

But not once was she aware of ever hearing Bianca talking about her power or using it…she was rather curious now…and it would provide something else to think about that didn’t involve stressing over this latest song.

“Hey, B.”

“Yeah, baby?”

Adore’s lips curled into a small smile when she heard the pet name. Bianca loved to pepper them in, she never really bothered for most anyone else, bar Courtney, and it made her feel kinda special. Pushing that thought aside for now, Adore asked, “What’s your power anyway? You’ve never told me.”

“You never asked,” Bianca replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Never thought about it.”

Bianca laughed in spite of trying to wrestle with the fabric to sit right on the mannequin. “All these months and now you’re curious?”

“Yeah,” Adore said, now sitting up properly to watch her friend work.

Sparing a quick glance in Adore’s direction as she carefully maneuvered the garment into its proper position, Bianca asked, “Is this just a distraction or-?”

“I wanna know,” Adore assured her, a warm smile resting on her lips as her eyes lit up with sincerity. “But if you don’t wanna talk about it, I-”

“It’s fine.”

Huh, Adore thought, She almost looked like she was throwing her voice when she said that.

But she knew that was wrong. She was just so tired and distracted from this writer’s block that she was seeing things.

So she waited another few seconds for Bianca to continue speaking but when nothing came, she asked, “So are you gonna tell me?”

Bianca blinked in confusion for a moment, cocking her head to the side as she stared at Adore from the other side of the mannequin. “I just showed you,” she said calmly.

“What?” Adore exclaimed. “I missed it! Do it again.”

Bianca rolled her eyes, placed her hands on her hips, and said “Fine.” Adore heard her say it. But nothing seemed to happen. Bianca didn’t budge an inch nor did it seem like anything else in the room was immediately affected.

Adore continued to watch her friend expectantly, waiting for any sign of her powers activating, but nothing caught her attention. She even darted her eyes around the room in case there was a hint elsewhere but she saw nothing. “Did you do it?” she asked again.

“Oh my god,” Bianca grumbled.

Marching away from the mannequin, she strode up to Adore, tilted her chin up so they were looking each other directly in the eye, and said, “Watch me.”

Adore did. Intently. It was hard not to look at her, especially when she was so close. But what did Bianca want her to watch? Her eyes? No, they were the same warm, chocolatey brown they’d always been. Nothing unusual there.

Her lips?

They were still coated in that beautiful, perfect shade of burgundy lip matte as earlier. They hadn’t even so much as twitched-“Oh!”

“Get it?” Bianca asked with a smirk, now stepping back. Her lips definitely had not moved when she said that. But all the same, Adore could hear her clear as day.

“So you…you can go into people’s minds?” she clarified.

“Yeah,” Bianca replied casually, heading back to her work station to resume her adjustments to the outfit.

Adore lit up with the information. All at once she had a million questions to ask and blurted them as soon as she thought of them, “Like everyone, all at once? One at a time? What’s it like? How far away do you have to be? Can you-”

“Hold on, just calm down,” Bianca laughed, “One question at a time, alright?”

Adore gave her an apologetic smile and took a moment to reign in her thoughts. Certain things she knew she wanted to ask right away so that seemed to be the best place to begin. “Okay, so…can you go into everyone’s mind?”

“Yeah, for some people there’s a bit of resistance getting in but I haven’t had anyone stop me yet.”

Huh, Adore thought to herself. Wonder what she means by resistance? Mm. But she quickly moved onto her next biggest question, “Is it, like, all the time with everyone or-”

“It’s one at a time,” Bianca explained patiently, “and only when I want to. Otherwise, all you fuckers would have driven me crazy by now. Well, more than you do already.”

Adore flipped her off with a wide, toothy grin. Of course Bianca would make a joke out of it but there was probably a good bit of truth to what she said. She could only imagine how draining it would be to hear everyone’s inner thoughts at all hours of the day. It’d be enough to drive anyone batty in just a week. Leaning forward in her seat, Adore continued, “So do you have to be real close to them or can you do it from anywhere?” Then lighting up with a deep interest, she asked, “Could you pick someone from town and read their mind from here?”

Laughing, Bianca shook her head and continued moving her hands deftly along the garment. As she marked certain areas with her brightly colored pins, she stated, “There is a limit. No more than a few feet away is best. Then I don’t have to do as much work to keep the connection going…” She paused for a moment to concentrate on pinning the hem but soon resumed what she was saying. “But I’ve gotten it up to a few hundred feet before. The connection usually breaks by then cause it’s too hard to maintain it and try to dig through their memories at the same time…but it’s possible, I guess.”

Adore nodded absently and mused to herself for a moment. She watched as Bianca pulled the outfit back off the mannequin and set it on the only clear space at her work table. She was threading her sewing machine with the proper color and filling her bobbin when Adore thought to finally ask, “What’s it like in there?”

Bianca turned away from her machine to look Adore in the eye, she knew sooner or later this question was likely to come. Almost everyone asked once they knew about her powers. She still had yet to find an answer she really liked. But here was another chance to try. “Well…that’s a bit hard to answer.” Her fingers drummed across her thigh as she explained in a carefully slow manner, “Everyone’s different. It really depends on their personality and thought process, I guess. Take Raven, for example, her memories are always very straightforward but they’re all flat at first. Like the scenery we use for the stage…But once I spend more time in there, the emotions she connects to each memory starts to come out and everything gets more depth. Then I can try to figure out the meaning behind everything.”

Adore nodded like she was hanging off every word and she probably was. Bianca’s lips curled into a small smile as she offered another example. “Katya, on the other hand, is totally different from that. She’s like one of those flip books for animation. The kind where you turn the pages really fast to make the picture move? Except for her, each page can have a detail be just a little altered or it can be totally and completely different. Like changing from a bouncing ball to a bright green elephant and then back again. It just depends on what she’s thinking about and how much.”

“Have you gone into Courtney’s mind?” Adore suddenly asked.

“Yeah. Hers is like…playing hopscotch and running a marathon at the same time. Each thought is like a single block and sometimes it goes in a straight line, skipping from one thought to the next, but then out of nowhere, you have to make a mile long side jump. And if she’s really thinking about something? It’s like trying to run a 5k in under a minute. It’s exhausting,” she grumbled.

“Oh, that’s so cool! What about Alaska?”

“Haven’t gone into hers.”

“Laganja?”

Bianca made a face at the suggestion, “Hell no!”

“Shangela?”

The name struck her like a slap upside the head. A very familiar ache began to rear its ugly head as she said, “Um…it’s like a spiderweb.” Before Adore could even think to ask for a better explanation, Bianca tried to move on with, “But yours is-”

“You’ve gone into mine?”

Adore’s expression was hard to read but Bianca didn’t take much notice. Waving her hand, she said dismissively, “Only twice. Yours is kinda like visiting a spam page without an ad-blocker. Like everything is calm at first but then a bunch of random ads start popping up all around you can’t close out of them. Or sometimes they close out on their own, it just kinda depends on what you’re thinking about, I guess. Like there’s the main thought you’re trying to focus on and then all these other little thoughts bubble out from certain parts, like if a word or something reminds you of anything else, that becomes a pop up and stays there for a while until you move onto another thought. But now picture that times 10. That’s what your brain is like for me.”

“Huh.”

Adore sat silently, still watching Bianca with that strange look. It was a bit unsettling, actually. Enough that Bianca was shifting in her seat. Perhaps she shouldn’t have mentioned that after all?

There was a loaded pause until Adore finally forced back a tense swallow to ask, “B, you said you’ve only gone into my mind twice right?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Shrugging, Bianca simply stated, “Just to see what it’s like really.” And that was the truth, plain as it was.

She gave Bianca another odd look as she cocked her head to the side and asked, “You don’t…always go into people’s minds whenever you feel like it, do you?”

“No, not unless there’s something I want to know.”

Adore shifted in her seat, gave a soft ‘Okay,’ and picked up her notebook again. At first Bianca had hoped she finally broke through her writer’s block and turned back to resume her work. But after a few minutes with only the sound of Adore’s pen tapping on the page and the hum of the sewing machine, it was very apparent that that was not the case.

Bianca just couldn’t shake the feeling that she had said something wrong. She only answered Adore’s questions, right?

But maybe she did say more than she ought to…

Stepping away from her station, she took a seat next to Adore. When she didn’t stop the drumming of her pen or fingers, Bianca called her attention with, “Hey. Adore, look at me.” Reluctantly, Adore did so but not without darting her eyes away once or twice. Softly, Bianca asked, “You’re freaked out by this, aren’t you?”

Adore tried to play it off, but it was true. At first she hadn’t thought much of Bianca going into other people’s minds but after learning Bianca had gone into hers? That changed things. She tried to reason with herself that Bianca wasn’t always in there looking for all her private thoughts and feelings but she couldn’t shake that feeling of violation and vulnerability. After all, she wasn’t even sure just what Bianca did in there…or what she now knew.

Scooting in closer, Bianca urged her again to look in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Adore. I shouldn’t have gone in there without letting you know first. But I promise, I wasn’t looking for anything while I was there. I was just curious at how your mind worked. I didn’t touch or manipulate anything, honest.” Her tone radiated sincerity as she vowed, “And I swear I’m not going into your mind anymore, okay?”

“Really?” Adore gave a cautious smile.

“Really,” Bianca assured her. Though Adore would never admit it, that smile of Bianca’s pushed aside most of her fear. Even more so when it became accompanied by a teasing, “Besides, it’s not that interesting in there anyway.”

“Bitch!”

******

After learning about Bianca’s powers, it took a few days for Adore to feel totally comfortable again. Even though Bianca assured her she wouldn’t go into her mind again, Adore still felt a constant paranoia lurking in the back of her mind every time they were together. Usually it was a small amount, easily pushed away, but other times, like when writing lyrics, her thoughts would be consumed with wondering if Bianca would break her promise. What if she was reading the lyrics right now? What if she saw what was inspiring them? What if-No!

Bianca promised.

Adore had to have faith in that. After all, Bianca’s never lied to her before. Adore could trust her.

But no matter how often she repeated that, there was always that tiny fear that Bianca would let curiosity get the better of her again, go into Adore’s mind while she was writing, and see all of her most private thoughts. Thoughts that she didn’t quite dare say to Bianca, at least not yet.

She was still confused by them and that had carried over into her writing. Normally, she’d work out the confusion while working on the song. She’d put all of her jumbled thoughts onto paper and reorganize them into something that made sense. It gave her clarity on the situation, whatever it was. But not this time.

No matter how many times she tried writing it down, it just didn’t seem to make sense. She just didn’t understand how she felt about Bianca.

She liked her, sure. Admired her, felt close to her. But was there more?

She thought there might be. In fact, she was pretty sure she did but she had her doubts from time to time. She blamed it on Bianca.

She just left her feeling so confused sometimes. Sure, they’d flirt a little and Bianca always used pet names and teased her and talked to her about everything…but how does Bianca actually feel about her?

Adore couldn’t help but wonder…and oftentimes that wondering took her a little too far into her own daydreams.

She’d replay all the instances of them laying together on the couch or bed, just watching TV or talking. Adore would usually curl into her and Bianca would absently toy with her hair, joking that she needed a touch up with the dye or should take a comb to it again. There was never any bite to what she said, only something to make them both laugh. Then Adore would think about what would happen if just one day she leant up to kiss Bianca or if Bianca tried to kiss her. She’d muse over every detail of what that kiss would feel like, what they’d do during it, where it would go from there. Recently, she’d been imagining it going quite far but then she’d snap back to reality with a very guilty conscience as she realized that Bianca was right there.

And now that Adore knew Bianca could read her mind whenever she wanted, those thoughts didn’t feel so private and safe any more. She tried her best not to think about them or anything even remotely connected to her daydreams but of course, her mind always decided to go into overdrive and pull up those memories at the worst possible times. Namely, whenever they spent time together.

During class, Adore felt safe enough to think about them, just a little. Surely Bianca was too far away and focused on her own classes to read anyone’s mind…but then when they had lunch together or she visited Bianca backstage or went to the greenhouse or hung out in the dormitories?

All these little inconspicuous things Bianca did would just remind her of her daydreams and flood her thoughts with these stupid feelings and questions and wondering. It was no surprise she had writer’s block, she could barely think, let alone write something coherent.

Bianca picked up on the frustration pretty quickly. She had hoped that it would pass in a few days but between the defeated groans as she wrote and the sudden skittishness whenever Bianca would come close, it was hard to ignore. Bianca was so used to Adore slipping away into her own little thought bubble as she worked on her lyrics. It made for a comfortable silence as both of them did their own thing while backstage. But now Adore seemed hyper aware of everything and guiltily hid or tore out pages from her notebook.

By the time this behavior had carried over into the following week, Bianca couldn’t help but think it all circled back to her revealing her powers. She’d seen this behavior before; people would learn that she could read minds and then avoid her like the plague or worse; stay with her but always treat her with suspicion. It hurt…especially because it was coming from Adore this time.

Before long Bianca resolved to talk with her. She just couldn’t bear to let this go on any longer and risk losing this friendship.

“Hey, Adore, can we talk for a minute?” Bianca asked one afternoon.

Adore looked startled. She’d been staring at her notebook once again and trying to work on anything that wasn’t related to Bianca. She’d made some progress but it was slower than she’d like. But just when the pace looked to be picking up, that was when Bianca asked to speak with her. She tried to act casual but her mind was going a mile a minute as she wondered what Bianca wanted to say.

“Sure.”

Taking a seat next to her, ignoring the jab she felt in her heart as Adore shifted uncomfortably, Bianca continued, “I wanted to talk about the other day again. When I told you about my powers.” Adore nodded her head guiltily. “It made things weird, didn’t it?”

Adore visibly faltered. She stared up at Bianca like a deer caught in headlights as she tried to think of a way to explain all of her conflicting emotions. She wanted to be honest but she didn’t want to hurt Bianca’s feelings, at least no more than she had to. Taking pity on her, Bianca offered a consoling smile and gently pointed out, “Adore, I can tell when you’re bothered. You don’t really hide things that well, hun.”

Another wave of guilt washed over Adore’s face. She really was caught with no way out. The best thing to do was just be totally honest, she figured. “Okay, yeah. It…I mean-”

“Hey, I get it,” Bianca said, “I know it’s weird and hard to get used to.” Scooting closer, she laid a cautious hand over Adore’s and reiterated, “But I made a promise to you and I swear I’m gonna keep that. I’m not going into your mind again.”

They looked at each other for the longest time; Adore lost in thought and Bianca studying her friend for any sign of how she was feeling. Bianca just hoped she looked and sounded as sincere as she felt. She really did want to do her best to keep that promise. But all of it would mean nothing if Adore was still uncomfortable around her.

After a loaded pause, Adore finally spoke again, “Can I ask you about something, too?”

“Of course.”

“When you went in there, when was that?”

Not exactly what Bianca was expecting but she’d gladly answer any question she could. Thinking hard, trying to recollect the events as accurately as possible, Bianca mused, “Um…the first time was a few days after we met, maybe two weeks?”

Adore nodded, then probed a little further, “And the second?”

“Mm…I think that was almost three months ago now…during one of our lunch periods when you started following me down here. During school hours, I mean.”

Adore was silent for a few seconds, clearly still turning things over in her mind. Bianca felt a vague curiosity as to why Adore was so interested in when but she supposed Adore had her reasons. She wasn’t going to push it.

There was an inquiring tilt to Adore’s head as she asked, “Why then?”

“Well…the first time I went into your mind, it was when Courtney, Alaska and a few others were hanging out with us too. I didn’t really know what to expect and got bombarded right away with a bunch of spam in there.” Bianca smiled at the memory for a moment before admitting, “I couldn’t follow any of it even if I tried and got out almost immediately…Then when we started hanging out alone, I got curious what your mind would be like then. You were helping me organize some of the outfits that day and seemed distracted so I thought, ‘why not take another look?’”

“Was it different?”

“A bit. It was more calm but you still had that pop up thing going on,” Bianca tried to explain, “This time I could follow some of it. I remember the outfits reminded you of some horrible movie you had to watch as a kid. But that was as far as I went with it.”

“Okay.” Her voice was calm. It almost sounded flat.

It was weird to hear that from Adore; usually there was some kind of overarching emotion in her tone, whether it be good or bad. Hearing her sound like this just felt…wrong. But she wasn’t angry or rushing from the room so it couldn’t have been all bad, right?

Very cautiously, Bianca asked, “Are we good?”

She held her breath, waiting for some kind of answer, and nearly sighed with relief when Adore cracked a smile and replied, “Yeah.”

All the nerves Bianca had built up finally began to relax away and soon she was returning a grin of her own. Figuring now was as good as any for a change of subject, she noted, “While I’m thinking about it, did you want to go into town next month? The 28th?…Just us.”

“Sure,” Adore beamed, even laughing just a little as she asked, “Why the 28th though?”

“It’s move-in day,” Bianca groaned, “The campus is gonna be crazy for a while. Figured we’d have more fun in town.”

Adore’s eyes danced with delight as thoughts of an afternoon truly alone with Bianca filled her mind. She could hardly keep her excitement contained as she answered, “Yeah, it sounds great!”

******

Things finally went back to normal and by the time their afternoon outing came around, they were as close as ever. Going into the city, if only for a few hours, had been wonderfully relaxing. They could forget about everything for a while and just enjoy each other’s company. Bianca already had a few places in mind she wanted to visit with Adore; a charming little outdoor cafe for lunch, a hobby shop they could easily wander and get lost in, some window shopping at the boutiques. Adore even suggested a few places of her own.

It was a shame when they had to return to campus.

But neither of them could stop smiling for the rest of the day, especially when recounting to their friends all the fun they had together. It was the perfect trip to end their school break with. Next week classes would begin again and it’d be right back to endless amounts of homework for the foreseeable future.

Strangely enough, that wasn’t the last exciting thing they heard that week.

About two days after the latest batch of students moved in, Courtney was out wandering the school grounds. Somehow she managed to stumble upon a hidden grove full of plants that most certainly came from another world. She and Shangela organized an effort with some of the other plant elementals to retrieve the foreign plants and bring them back to the greenhouse to study. Even Adore got roped in to help transport some of the larger samples. Her powers made easy work of moving them across the campus in record time. But again, she couldn’t help feeling like some kind of pack mule.

Only Bianca was able to break her out of her peevish mood with an offer to buy her dinner (pizza delivery from the town in this case) and a quick joke that she needed a shower. It was as she was changing into a fresh set of clothes that Adore noted once again that Bianca always seemed to have a soft spot for her. After all, she wasn’t offering to buy pizza for Shangela or Courtney and they certainly had more work to do than her.

She couldn’t help but feel special that she was given extra consideration and she had to wonder what, if anything, it might mean. There was no denying there was a certain warmth that spread throughout her chest at the thought. Even the way Bianca smiled at her as she wandered into her room left her heart fluttering. The entire time they talked that night, it felt like they were the only two people in the world. Bianca’s attention was focused solely on her for a change and…it was nice. Great, even.

The way her eyes would sparkle when she teased Adore or how loudly she laughed every time Adore made a joke. The way they would lean into each other as they huddled around her laptop to watch a movie…it just felt very…right.

******

With the discovery of the intermittent portal and cataloging all of the new plants, Courtney’s visits to the theater department dramatically declined. That wasn’t to say she never hung out with her friends, they often could be found together in the dorms late at night or on the weekends, but the afternoons backstage seemed to be reserved strictly for Bianca and Adore now. Every so often, they’d wander to the greenhouse or Courtney would appear backstage for an hour or so of chatting, but the time spent together as a group had noticeably decreased.

Adore was surprisingly fine with that.

She loved having the chance to spend more alone time with Bianca. Their conversations were always entertaining. But one thing Adore noticed the most with Courtney’s absence was Bianca’s flirting. Pet names were always a given but lately there seemed to be more to it. It was more frequent but also seemed…more serious?

Earlier, Bianca would restrain herself to just a few comments here and there. Nothing that pushed the limits too much and Adore always responded in kind. In fact, most times she’d push the envelope just a bit further and would work out an amused laugh from Bianca. Then they’d both back off and talk about something else…but now, Bianca was taking it one step further. Testing the boundaries more. Their banter always seemed to have a suggestive undertone to it, the kind that left Adore’s head feeling swimmy and giddy as she tried to keep up.

It was exciting and had her heart racing in her chest.

Just maybe, she thought, Bianca feels the same as her?

Maybe now that Courtney isn’t here to dilute their conversations, Bianca feels more comfortable flirting with her? Maybe she’s trying to figure out if Adore is serious too?

Every day, these questions would pop up in her mind. She tried to work them out through her writing but the lyrics always ended up sounding confused or turned into something embarrassingly sappy and romantic. She was frustrated that she didn’t have any more answers but admittedly, she still loved this sense of wonder and the blissful daze she often found herself caught in.

She was happy, she realized. Even if she didn’t know for certain yet, she just felt so sure. The signs were all there when she looked. It was only a matter of time before one of them broke and secretly, she couldn’t wait to see which of them it would be.

******

The next semester had begun without much incident and the pair quickly found themselves resuming normal after-school activities; Bianca focused on creating costumes, accessories and props for the next production while Adore helped out with small tasks or focused on her own thing or even just skipped out if she had other things to do. It was comfortable and all too familiar. Like returning back to a favorite beach or playground as a kid after being away all winter.

They’d chat the afternoons away until Bianca had finished her work and then they’d usually pick up Courtney from the greenhouse and head back to the dormitories to hang out with the rest of their friends. With the start of the new semester also came the introduction of new friends, including one Willam Belli.

Before Bianca had a chance to properly meet the new arrival, she had already heard stories about the fire elemental. The first occurrence came from Courtney of all people; she had just met Willam by chance earlier that day and thought the meeting was important enough to mention to Bianca. Perhaps because Willam was Alaska’s new roommate?

Bianca brushed off the news and instead reminded Courtney of why she was visiting the greenhouse in the first place; some rare flowers she had collected from another world were finally blooming and Bianca ‘just had to come see them’. Courtney’s reasoning, not hers.

The next instance caught her attention though. It seems Willam has a little quirk of huffing out fire whenever she feels like it. Caught some students by surprise…or that might’ve been because she almost lit some girl’s hair on fire.

Then Raja even mentioned the girl, albeit very briefly. She had met Willam while smoking behind the gym. Talked to her for a few minutes before leaving to hang out with her new roommate and Raven.

Now Bianca was interested.

If Raja made it a point to tell Bianca about this new student, she must be interesting. And it wasn’t long after that, that Bianca and Willam were finally introduced. The meeting went well enough and they seemed to get along. Willam had the same sense of humor as her so that was always a plus. Bianca thought little more about this until Courtney mentioned Willam again…and again…and again.

Willam was entertaining, Bianca did have to admit, but Courtney was utterly fascinated with her. Her eyes lit up with interest whenever they were together or Courtney would make sure to recount every new story she had heard from or about Willam whenever she and Bianca saw one another. It offered a change from her gushing over whatever new plant species she catalogued but there was a limit to how much Bianca could take of all this. Before long she was sharing a long-suffering look with Adore whenever the subject of Willam ever came up.

It didn’t take a genius nor even a quick jaunt into Courtney’s mind to recognize her infatuation. But it did raise Bianca’s curiosity about Willam. The pair never really spent one on one time together, not like her and Courtney did and certainly not her and Adore. Bianca couldn’t help but wonder how Willam felt in all this. She certainly loved to tease Courtney at every chance during lunch but when the topic of hanging out after classes came up, she always seemed to avoid committing herself to anything like that.

It left Bianca wondering. Did she find Courtney too eager? Was she genuinely just busy with other things? Or maybe there was something else going on?

Bianca resolved to find the answer and luckily it didn’t take too long before she got her chance to go into Willam’s mind. She wanted to time it carefully; she waited until Alaska had brought up hanging out after classes in the common room, probably watch a movie or two. ‘They could even paint their nails together!’ she exclaimed.

Willam merely shrugged and replied, “Maybe.”

It was here Bianca took her chance. With little more than a push, she found herself inside Willam’s mind. It was like a perfect scene of the cafeteria (from her point of view) but as Bianca looked around she saw the oddest little pockets of other thoughts hiding in the background. They played like little movies on a constant loop, sometimes only appearing briefly, others lasting for several moments and some never left. But strangely they didn’t seem to be memories, or at least not all of them. Some displayed scenes that Bianca was sure had not happened, like Willam’s napkin suddenly catching fire and spreading over the table, her fingers sparking and singeing Alaska’s clothes…sitting in the rec room and knocking over a vial of nail polish…making a mess of her paint job on someone’s nails…burning a handprint into one of the couches.

No, none of those seemed real. Bianca was sure if they had happened, the news would have spread all over the school by now. It all seemed to be Willam’s expectations or even fears of what she might do. All accidents, Bianca noticed…and then it made sense. That’s exactly what they were; her worst fears of what might happen. She was scared of doing something embarrassing or having her powers act up.

At that point Bianca quickly took her leave from Willam’s mind. She was beginning to feel something not all together pleasant…Sympathy, perhaps? It left her feeling weird so she decided it was best not to dwell on it. But she had her answer, or part of it. She hadn’t really learned how Courtney plays a part in this, if she does at all, but she did come to understand why Willam usually remained vague when commenting on group plans. She probably had to argue with herself on whether or not it’d be a good idea all the way up to when it came time to commit. And Bianca didn’t really blame her for that. If Willam thought she might accidentally hurt someone, it was no wonder she would try to avoid them whenever she felt her control slipping.

After that day, Bianca didn’t really feel a need to go back into Willam’s mind to dig around any more. As weeks passed, she had her suspicions as to how she truly felt about Courtney. Willam’s powers seemed to be very in-tune with her emotions. When she was relaxed and enjoying herself, there never really seemed to be a problem. But once she started feeling annoyed, anxious, or even over-excited, then little sparks or licks of fire might start to appear. And it didn’t take long to notice she often felt that way around Courtney.

With Bianca, the two could exchange friendly jabs for hours on end. Willam would always end up laughing (an ugly, infectious sound that managed to leave Bianca cracking up too) but never did she really get offended by anything that was said. She brushed it off and remained calm and collected. It was almost the same with Alaska, though sometimes there would be an annoyed huff or two complimented by a short burst of fire whenever Alaska would bring up training after school. But aside from that, Willam seemed to feel fine.

With Courtney however…that was another story. Willam tried to tease her like she did with the others but Courtney was far from being a pushover and just taking the playful jabs. She’d engage just as enthusiastically with Willam and though her comments were never quite as pointed as Bianca’s, they did seem to get under Willam’s skin more easily. Then she’d just shoot off one of her ‘innocent’ smiles and bat her lashes and in a few seconds, Willam’s mood might sour or fingers might begin to spark.

She didn’t seem to know quite what to do once Courtney really started fighting back. Her voice might jump a little higher, she might get a little more defensive and then before she realized it, she’d make a joke that went a bit too far. Then Courtney would get annoyed, then Willam, Bianca’s eyes would roll, Adore would find something else to focus her attention on and then someone might step in and try to play peace-keeper. Usually Alaska, sometimes Raja or Shangela. It was a never ending cycle, really.

Courtney just always seemed to put her on edge but Bianca never noticed Willam pulling away, not seriously at least. Within a few hours all would be right again and the pattern would repeat. It was exhausting, really.

Anyone with half a brain could see they cared for each other, but whether it was like Courtney and Bianca’s relationship, one of friendly bickering or more like Shangela and Alyssa’s, flirty teasing and play-fighting, well…Bianca had her guess…as did most others. But the question of it and when the pair might eventually explore their feelings…Bianca decided very early on that she was not going to get involved. No, she had her own mess of a love life and certainly didn’t need drama from someone else’s spilling over. Not while she could help it.

#rpdr fanfiction #biadore #witney #alyssa x shangela #shangela laquifa wadley #bianca del rio #courtney act #willam belli #alaska thunderfuck #adore delano #humor #fluff #angst #boarding school au #magical girl au #worlds collide #albatross #submission #lesbian au

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omniswords · 4 years

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Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 3

also known, in my list of docs, as “chill your chichis, luka.”

i think this might be becoming a habit

hey siri, when does a habit become a problem?

actually i don’t think i wanna know the answer to that.

Luka goes back to Tom and Sabine’s at least two more times within the week, and at least one more time after that. And every single time, the girl with the dark hair and the sketchbook and the blue, blue eyes is at the counter. Tapping that pencil, playing that tasteful music, so focused it’s almost scary. He even tries to space out his visits, just so he won’t look desperate or like he’s coming by just for her. (Even if… admittedly… part of the reason he does come by was in the hopes that she’s there.) He just happens to be, it seems, the victim of dumb good luck.

Or maybe just dumb luck.

To his credit, he carries himself pretty well whenever he talks to her. Keeps their transactions and conversations short and simple, waits for his orders in the relative quiet of the shop—mostly because he’s afraid of making a fool of himself any more than he already has. The second time, she’s already speaking with another customer; her eyes are bright, her smile just as sweet, and even though it isn’t directed at him, a part of him feels so goddamn blessed to hear her say, “Enjoy, monsieur! Have a good day!”

And then she gets to him, and her expression mellows out. “Oh, yes,” she says, her nails trailing over the spine of her trusty, mysterious sketchbook. “I remember you. What can I get for you today?”

In the moment, he doesn’t care if she doesn’t remember his name. The fact that she remembers his face is enough to quietly send him over the moon. “Just the napoleon this time,” he says, and then, after the pause when he hands her his card, “So… about that macaron.”

(He’s already kicking himself.)

The girl seems unaffected. “What macaron?”

“The first time I came,” he says. “I didn’t order one, but there was one in my box.”

“Oh, that.” She hands him back his card, along with a receipt to sign. (This time, he notices his name at the bottom.) “It was a special promo we had going. Buy five pastries, get a macaron for free.”

Luka looks up from the receipt, stomach churning, fingers twitching. “I only bought four.”

The girl seems to freeze for a moment, and this time around, the pink on her cheeks is unmistakeable. “Sorry about that, then,” she murmurs. “I guess I was just excited about it.”

It isn’t until after she’s called his name and handed him the little box, after he’s walked out of the shop with the sound of his name still ringing in his ears, that he realizes there was no promo advertised anywhere in the bakery.

It makes him consider leaving the note again.

He’s been thinking about doing it since the first day—when he was waiting for his order and minding his tongue over the music—and he still can’t tell if he regrets not doing it. He’ll be the first to admit he isn’t exactly the best at speaking words, and he’d probably make an even bigger fool of himself if he whipped out his guitar and started playing all the things he felt himself wanting to say in the moment. Like a walking anyway, here’s “Wonderwall” guy in the corner of a house party.

A note, though. That feels like a happy medium. Getting the feelings out without it being too intrusive, or too much of a sentimental tryhard. It seems more and more doable with each time he stops by. And it’s really only a matter of composing the message in his head: Hi, I’m sorry to bother you, I just wanted you to know that I think you’re pretty—

Wait, no…

I wanted you to know that I couldn’t stop watching you that first day—

Oh, God, no. That actually is creepy.

Maybe this is a wild guess, but I think your name starts with an M because of the macaron, and there are lots of nice names that starts with the letter M, and whatever yours is, I’m sure it’s pretty—

Now it’s just getting worse. He’s not even totally sure about the letter M thing. For all he knows, it could stand for “macaron.” The literal thing he ate.

Why is this so much harder than actually talking to her? It’s supposed to be the other way around. It’s always been the other way around, no matter how much it looks like he can get away with it or cover it up.

He knows one thing for sure. He can’t leave his number on the note. Because leaving his number is effectively hitting on her, and he knows better than to hit on someone while they’re working. He heard it in a podcast once: never ask someone out if they don’t have a way to get away. Not to mention the fact that she’s there to do her job, not waste her time on people trying to chat her up and tie up the business line. He knows better. He knows better.

But something in him says that life is too short not to compliment people, genuinely. Life is too short to hold in your heart every nice thing you could say to someone—to lock it away where they’re guaranteed to never hear it. He’s told himself this, even tweeted it with slightly clammy hands right in the middle of refusing to take his own advice.

He figures it out eventually. It only takes days on end, but it comes to him as a flash just before work, the way the right melody tends to do. He scribbles it on a shred of paper from the lyric notebook he shares with Rose and stuffs it in his pocket before he can even give himself the opportunity to reread it or throw it away, and then he’s walking his bike down the gangplank of the Liberty and pedaling away like his life depends on it. Because if he doesn’t do it now, he never will. Because life is too short, and he’d like to get busy actually spending the rest of it.

Hey there. I don’t mean to intrude on your day or anything, and feel free to toss this if it makes you roll your eyes or whatever. I just wanted to tell you that your eyes are the most beautiful shade of blue I’ve ever seen. And that you’re incredibly pretty. That’s all. I hope you have a good rest of your day, because you deserve it.

--Luka

P.S. You already know my name. I hope one day I’ll get to know yours.

P.P.S. If that’s cool.

It’s the best he’s going to get. And it’s everything he can do not to write any more postscripts.

When he gets to Tom and Sabine’s, the shop is—as it has been the last few times he’s come by—empty except for the music and the girl. Except this time, she’s looking at him directly as soon as the bell over the door rings. Like she’s been expecting him. He won’t be so presumptuous about it, but he can’t help hoping that that might be the case. She looks curious at first, but then her expression melts into familiarity, and she closes her sketchbook. “Let me guess,” she says by way of greeting, already tightening up her apron and her high ponytail and tapping at the screen at the register. “A pear tart and a napoleon.”

Well, it’s better than what he thought she might say.

Luka heaves a nervous laugh as he approaches the register, but manages to say, “Just for that, I’m ordering a pain au chocolat.” If anything, he’ll give all the credit to his customer service experience. Knowing the worst of what’s happened to him is sometimes enough to remind him that he can get through a conversation, even with the bumps in the road.

The girl grins, her eyes sparkling. Just the eyes he wrote about—maybe doesn’t want to “Oh yeah? Keeping me on my toes, huh?”

“Someone has to,” he says; he pauses to wonder why he even said that, if they’re even friendly enough that he could say something like that. If they could even technically be friends. He gets the sense, though, that the girl can’t tell what he’s thinking, which means he’s doing all right at hiding it. He reaches for his back pocket to cover it up even more, not wanting to think about how much money he’s spent here this week.

It’s when his fingers brush against the crease of the note that his stomach twists, seems to pop open and let every ounce of adrenaline spill into him. He clutches the note, too, before he can overthink giving it away—before he can regret writing it or not handing it over. He focuses on his debit card first, lets the overhead music attempt to calm him as he goes through all the motions of paying. It happens to be from one of his favorite bands—well, technically, it’s one guy with a rotation of musicians, but it’s still a band—and he finds himself tapping his sneakers to the beat, faintly humming along. She really does have good taste…

“Here,” Luka says a little too fast when she slides a paper bag across the counter. He trades it for the note, which is a little wrinkled from being in his pocket but otherwise intact. He holds his breath, meets her eyes, the blue that’s been getting to him these days. “This is for you.” A part of him wants to say, I promise it’s not my number, but even that seems like a downward spiral of bad choices. Justifications that won’t come out quite right.

Luka takes the box and turns on his heel before he can think to take it back, or before she can say no thank you. Because hearing that means insisting in return, and he doesn’t know if he has the constitution to do that when he’s never wanted to push, when it feels like his mind is swimming and his face is burning. He already knows what he’s going to post online as soon as he gets out of here and rounds the corner: “life’s too short not to tell people you think they’re pretty,” i say, choking up and bolting out of the best bakery in paris. and then, it’s official, i can never come here again. He hasn’t decided whether he wants to tack an lmao on the end of that one, or whether that would be too cynical.

But the girl doesn’t say no thank you. In fact, she doesn’t say anything at all. There’s only the crinkle of paper as she unfolds the note behind him, which makes him pause at the door. He feigns checking the time on his phone; still half an hour before he needs to report to work. Maybe if he holds out long enough, she might call out to him or something.

But what if she tosses the note after all?

But, God, what if she doesn’t?

He can’t bear to turn around.

“Marinette!” a voice calls from the back—it’s Mr. Dupain’s, gruff but hearty and adoring, the way he seems to speak to almost everyone. Luka tries not to jolt too much in surprise. “I need some help with these baguettes!”

There’s another crinkle of paper, another snap of a notebook. “I’m coming,” the girl calls back, and Luka would swear that something about her voice sounds… sweeter. Something from the sparkle of her eyes trickled in.

He smiles to himself, and pushes the door open, and tries in vain to ease the pounding of his heart.

Marinette. What a name. It’s as beautiful as her eyes. He mouths it when he has a moment alone, because saying it out loud feels a little sacred even for someone he’s only really met a few days ago, and maybe partly because if he says it once, he won’t want to stop saying it, and someone’s bound to think he’s off his rocker if they find him like that.

Marinette. Even her name sounded like it belonged to the sea. He wants to say it to the Seine, tell it a secret the way he’s done ever since he was a kid.

Instead, he plays the song from the bakery in his head again, and savors every bite of his bread, and licks the chocolate off his thumb before he dares to pull out his phone.

okay, fine. life is too short, not to tell people they’re pretty, period.

so CBG, i don’t know if you needed to hear that or something, but i can’t say i regret telling you.

#fic: chronicles of a parisian dumbass #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng

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saltyaro · 5 years

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[Image description: The cover of the 5th book of Aromantic (love) Story. It features a drawn woman in a red tank top, a white skirt that hides her heels, and red high heels shoes. She has her hands on her hips and looks confident.]

You know what I forgot to do? That review on the 5th and last tome of aromantic (love) story. For those who weren’t aware yet, I’m not going to keep the suspense going on any longer: yes, it is safe, no, the heroine doesn’t end up as a straight woman. That’s already a victory in itself, so now all of you can go ahead and buy it if it’s available in your country ;)

The actual review is under the read more, it’s not spoiler free so!

So, Futaba (the main character) tried dating to see if she’s able to develop romance, or not. The person she chose to do so with of course knows about it, and they’re actually both trying it to see if they can understand romance. Futaba still can’t imagine romantic attraction outside of sexual attraction, which frustrates her, because she *knows* allo aces are a thing so obviously, sexual desire isn’t necessarily linked! The viewpoint of her (straight dude) partner-in-crime is...well, not surprising at all, actually. His opinion is that romantic feelings are born of, on one hand, wanting the other person’s happiness, while also wanting to possess them and keep them all to yourself.

This is, well. A very Straight Man™ way of seeing things, but, on the other hand, this point of view isn’t limited to them. (I promise, I’m not going to ramble about how it’s scary that society puts such a violent feeling as the most beautiful and important. Not on this post at least)

Fun note, at least for me, you have the classical “guy is sick, girl brings him medicine” except...Futaba gives him the medicine and just. Leaves. I love her. Well, she ends up going to his apartment, but that’s where her being aro really stands out. Usually, in a basic romcom, everyone’s flushed, and it’s annoying. But Futaba is aro, so she isn’t embarrassed, she just sees someone she cares about being sick and wants to help. She’s very natural and stoic about the whole situation. It may seem like a detail, but honestly I find that so important!

She explains that, when she was a teenager, she avoided men as much as possible (to avoid romance) and I relate. So fucking much. I don’t know if any of you did the same, but with my parents bugging me about boys, I just avoided them as much as possible (with a few exceptions). I didn’t feel unsafe around men yet back then, so I know that’s not what it was.

She explains she was afraid of creating misunderstandings, and ended up not using the world “love” at all because of that. I relate to that so much too, I’m trying to heal from that, and I think it’s important, really important, for us as a community, to learn to separate love from romance. Anyway, this kind of struggle that just...hinders your vocabulary options is really a shame, and I’m glad to see a character mention it (and not be shamed for it!).

Are you ready for some Hetero Bashing™? Because Futaba reunites with her friends and they talk a bit. The Straight dude (Kyosuke) asked Futaba to think about marrying him, and she’s a bit “huuuuuh” so she talks about it to her friends. Friend 1 is like “well, you don’t need to be *in romance* to get married. I have friends, a straight dude and a lesbian, who got married by necessity” and Futaba expresses that she never thought such a thing would happen to her, she never thought of marriage being an option for her. Friend 2 they says that it’s the contrary for her, impossible to avoid the idea of marriage and children, despite not wanting either, because it’s been so ingrained in her head. “you know, the “to perpetuate the specie” argument, like having descendance is every human’s mission...”

And the friend 1 says “ah...the perfect exemple of a notion made by straight people to validate their point of view!” and I love that?? I mean, in general, even in the larger queer community, we’re dancing around the argument, finding proof that there are non-straight animals in all species, and all. She then adds “If reproductions is *that* important...then rich single people could have a ton of kids using articifial fertilization and bingo, they’d have contributed to society’s well-being!” Friend 2 is like “uuuuh, that would raise ethical issues” to what friend 2 answers: “Personally, I kinda reaaally don’t care for lessons of morality from a society that considers sexual minorities and childfree people as useless. If we consider that humanity will necessarily go extinct one day, then mating to reproduce is nothing but a useless cycle”. I really like that take which’s why I *had* to share it despite it being so long to read haha.

Futaba is surprised by her words, so friend 2 explains that friend 1 is worried that a straight guy is going to steal Futaba from them, and she doesn’t want to be abandoned. Friend 1 is bi but that’s a very aro sentiment here tbh.

(Straight bashing, over)

You have the usual meeting with the family...god, how realistic is that, you see your aunt and uncle you haven’t seen in maybe years and the only thing they’re interested in, is whether or not you’ve found a romantic partner. I swear, I got annoyed for the character cause it’s so true. She’s bothered (and I am too) by her grandma’s affirmation that everyones gets married someday. I hate that, it really, really annoys me that I supposedly can’t be free to make my own decisions! But she also knows that it would be useless to explain to her grandma that her words are paternalism, so she lets her be. Because she means well, and maybe that’s the worst thing about amatonormativity and its assumptions...that the people upholding those mean well.

The manga also touches (rapidly) on Futaba feeling of guilt for not being sincere with her family. Her parents aren’t pressuring her to get married, but she knows that seeing their only child, still single, and over 30, is sure to make them worried (especially given she’s not exactly wealthy). I can’t express how much I love seeing a character like that, she knows what she wants, but there’s still this lingering feeling that keeps you from feeling totally at ease, regardless of how much confidence you’ve got. It’s only natural and nothing to be ashamed of.

I think one of my favourite moments of this book - maybe of all the serie? is after Kyosuke’s friends remotivates Futaba by, basically, telling her to do what she always did, fight out of spite, even if that means to accept to sometimes take hits (this happens throught the phone). Kyosuke says to his friend, that he would never have neeb able to say such things to him, and his friend answers that love blinds him, and prevents him from seeing what she really needs. To that, Kyosuke doesn’t answer, and his friend understands immediately and says “That look...maybe you actually nurture this self-deception.”

And I love this moment because, for Futaba to be happy, she needs to be single, and free. From him, and his expectations of romance, because even though he knows, rationally speaking, that she won’t ever feel the same, he still wants her, and still wants to be the one at her side - when no one should be. Not in a partnership way anyway. He’s actually choosing to ignore the rational part of him because he still hopes for her to make the difficult choice, and stay at his side, because it’s not really that he wants her to be happy but rather, that he wants to be the one to make her happy, which is of course, extremely selfish and possessive. I love that it’s just laid here, without ambiguity. What’s great also, is that the straight dude in romo realizes what he’s doing, even if he tries to ignore that. Later in the manga, Kyosuke thinks to himself that he couldn’t help but hope that she would concecede, yield, and accept him, despite knowing that’s not what she needs, and knowing that’s not the way you build a positive relationship. I...don’t know if alloro usually know they’re doing such things? I don’t know what’s worse, to be confident you’re not doing that shit when you’re doing it, or to keep on doing it even though you’re aware.

On a sidenote, I really, really like that she got boosted by the least expected person? They don’t like each other, they’re more or less at each other’s throat most of the time cause he’s sexist and unsentitive, but in the end, he was touched by the anger in the beginnings of her work, and it built a sort of...professional trust between the two of them. Like, those characters won’t ever be friends, but there’s still that little place of trust between them, it’s a delicate portrayal of ambiguous relationships.

Basically, what ends the manga, if the end of Futaba’s own manga (the romantic comedy). And I really like the outlook she has on it, at the end of her 2 years and a half of work. Even though she didn’t want to write such a thing, in the end, she met a lot of people thanks to it, and, through challenging her own vision of relationships and romance, she finally managed to complete her certitude in herself and who she is. I think that’s a lovely parallel.

It also ends her questions, and she rejects Kyosuke (I usually can’t help but laugh when a Straight man gets rejected in fiction I’m an asshole I know). Their conversation is really lovely after that, and challenged the expectations of partnership. Kyosuke asks her if she would have accepted his proposal if, like one year ago, he didn’t feel anything towards her. And her answer is no. She did think about it, imagining their marriage as a fake straight couple, and how she knew that, while it would have asked concessions and sacrifices from both of them, they could have been happy. But what she needs isn’t some stability based on renunciations, but ton confront reality, so she can live in agreement with herself.

Also, the moment after her choice, loneliness and worry strike her, and she acknowledges that feeling, because it’s okay, it doesn’t mean she made the wrong choice. It will pass.

The younger guy who’s also in romance with her, interestingly enough, resolves the situation in a very mature way. He asks her if she’s found her answer, when they’re about to part ways (he’s no longer her assistant), and she says that, yes, she doesn’t feel romance - and he thanks her, for having endured his weirdness all this time, and bids her farewell. And we then have his thoughts - while his decisions, to act that way, was difficult for him, he did so because it was the right thing to do and he realized that insisting would have bothered her. That was nice. The situation is weird for Futaba too, because, as his senior, she kinda felt responsible for him, protective maybe? And she’s a bit overwhelmed by how much this kid’s grown.

There’s an epilogue of sorts, and we can see that Futaba decided to entirely live while being true to herself, which also means making some changes.

To conclude: I really liked this serie! It’s nice to see a woman over 30, finally embracing herself - despite having gone through doubts, even at her age - after making sure she was right about her feelings. She’s, well, asexual I think, but it’s the aro part that matters to her, and really has an influence on her life, the ace part is more of an afterthought. It’s also nice to see a nonamorous aromantic woman! Aro women are already hard to grasp in our amatonormative and migogynistic society, so a nonamorous one probably even more so.

It was overall a really nice experience, I’m not going to say everything was perfect, and her aromanticism is the topic of the story, but Futaba is also her own person and this is never downplayed in favour of talking about her identity. Definitely something too rare and, as such, very enjoyable.

#my post #Aromantic (Love) Story #Aro representation

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