#originally i was just testing out drawing noses straight on

[enasallavellan]

Chapter 187

Varric and Cole arrive at the Duke's Estate and they attempt to use the amulet on Cole. When it doesn't work, the group agrees to head out to see what Cole was drawn to.

It had been hours since the artist had begun testing colors. He had the original sketch in front of him and was mixing paints furiously, holding smears of paint up to her before either applying a bit to the drawing or muttering and remixing it. Luckily, this didn't require quite as much stillness as posing, but it seemed he wanted thousands of different shades to match every color he used. 

"Lady Inquisitor." He sighed, "Your hair is lovely and it will be my crowning achievement, but it will also be the death of me."

She smiled a bit at that, "It is… stubborn."

"And matching red hair is the job given to sinful artists in the void - more difficult than any other." His eyes narrowed at the smudge of red he had mixed on his canvas, seeming very offended by its existence. 

"Is it really that hard?" Enasal asked.

Solas chuckled from his chair, "Ma'ashalan, the dear artist is quite right."

"...Huh." She said, "I thought it would be easier-"

"Um, I'm sorry to interrupt!." Toussaint rushed over to the group at a straight run, quite unlike any noble Enasal had ever seen, "But your, ah… how do you say, how do you say, Maker, how did I forget the word-"

"Cole and Varric!" Enasal chirped, getting up without a single thought, "Take me to them!"

"Oh, yes - right, of course!" 

Enasal turned to the painter, "I'm sorry, I'll be right back!" and took off without waiting for a response, Annason and Solas at her heels. Varric was sitting in a chair with his brow furrowed, while Cole paced around the room, clearly agitated. He didn't seem to realize they had entered, blind to them through all his nerves. Enasal slowed to a stop and held out her arms, "There's my da'isha." 

Without his usual hesitation, Cole ran to her and hugged him with shaking arms.

Varric laughed, "Well, look at you, Seastorm."

She smiled a bit and pulled away, touching Cole's cheek, "It's okay, we have it. You don't have to be afraid anymore."

"Where?" He demanded, his hat nearly flying off as he turned his head this way and that.

Enasal reached up and gently squeezed his shoulder, "Take a deep breath."

He complied, closing his eyes.

"Okay, now unclench your fists."

He took another breath ad shook his hands out.

"Good." She looked over her shoulder at Annason, "Could you go ask the Duke to get the amulet for us?"

"Of course, my friend! Have strength, sweet Cole!"

Varric chuckled, "The Kid has killed how many people, and you two are all about how sweet he is?"

"Oh, we've all killed people." She said with a dismissive wave.

Cole's agitation had returned, and he started pacing again. Enasal looked over at Varric, who was leaning back in the cushioned chair. To anyone who didn't know him, he seemed very unconcerned. But she could tell he was worried - the slightest crease at his nose, the slow tapping of his middle finger on his knee. "Has he been this nervous the whole time?"

"Oh yeah, Kid's been out of his mind." He motioned her over, saying in a low voice, "We had a run-in with someone he seemed to recognize. Don't know what it was all about, but he got all muttery and tried to get stabby."

"Stabby?"

He nodded, "Yeah, had to practically drag him away. Couldn't get much out of him that wasn't his usual gibberish."

Enasal looked back at Cole, eyes wide with worry, "I'll see if I can get anything out of him once we have the amulet. He should be calmer, then."

After a few more tense moments, Annason returned with the Duke. Toussaint's eyes darted from one person to the next as he trembled out a nervous greeting, "I have the amulet - that is, I just got it from my collection and, well, it had a bit of dust on it, but I was careful to clean it off - the Lady Inquisitor cannot -"

"Thank you, Duke Toussaint." Enasal interrupted him, taking it and looking over it. It wasn't as grand as she thought it would be. A little smaller than her hand, it had a wooden back overlaid with some sort of metal design. It seemed to be silver, but she supposed it could be any other metal. She felt Cole staring at her, and she held it out to him. He snatched it away, looking over it and shaking his head, "What do I do with it?"

Enasal caught Annason's eye, flicking her eyes to the Duke.

Annason smiled and clapped her hands together, "Your Lordship, if it's not too much trouble would you be able to show me that lovely lake? Enasal and I can see it from our window, but the cold was a bit too much for us." She waved her hand toward the others, "I'm afraid Cole's friend is very shy."

He jerked away a bit before nodding, "Oh, yes, of course! I hardly mind at - will the Inquisition guards come along?" He rapidly shook his head, waving his hands around in a panic, "Not that I have any objections to such a thing, but I didn't - It would be very inappropriate and, that is to say-"

Annason grinned and started out, waving him towards her, "Come, come! While there is still daylight."

Enasal raised her eyebrows at her and mouthed, At two o'clock?

Annason ignored her, badgering the Duke until he reluctantly followed her.

"May I?" Solas asked. He ran his fingers over the surface, looking from every angle, "I see, it will be simple enough." He handed it to him, "Pin it to your clothes, I charge it with magic, and you should be protected."

Cole snatched it and started to fumble with the catch, but Enasal's hand shot out to stop him, "Solas, you're sure this won't hurt Cole?"

"Have faith, Enasal." He said with a slight laugh, "I will not harm your da'isha."

Enasal sighed and took her hand away from the amulet. "Ready, Cole?"

His knuckles were white as he clutched it, "They can't make me a monster."

Solas' voice was soft and calm, "Alright. No need to be afraid." 

His hands shook as he tried to open the pin, and Enasal finally did it for him, "I don't want you to poke yourself." She said, "There."

Solas nodded and returned his gaze to Cole, "Are you ready?"

Cole nodded silently.

He held his hand up and closed his eyes. At first, nothing happened - but slowly, it began to glow a soft white. Then with no warning, the glow turned into a blinding flash and Cole cried out in pain, yanking it off and letting it drop to the ground.

"Shit, Chuckles, what are you doing to the poor kid?"

"Something's blocking the enchantment." He picked the amulet, frowning at it.

"Maybe?" Varric laughed, "Just maybe it isn't working because he's not a demon? Or even a spirit?" He clapped Cole on the shoulder, "After all, he's gotten less weird creepy spirit lately. Now he's just…" 

Cole looked down at him in silence.

"Kind of a weird kid."

Enasal lit up, "He has been living as a human for a long time - and Varric Is right, he's been more grounded lately!"

With an exasperated sigh, Solas shook his head, "Regardless of Cole's special circumstances, he remains a spirit."

"Yes. A spirit." Varric chuckled, "With a human body. And a human voice. And-"

"Can force people to forget him?" Solas asked, "See the hurt in their minds?"

Cole went between them, "I don't matter!" His voice had a tremor to it, "Just lock away the parts of me that someone else could knot together to make me follow!"

Enasal took his hands, hugging him. His eyes were more watery than usual, and he rubbed at them. "Deep breaths."

"Enasal's right." Solas held out the amulet for him, "Focus on the amulet. Tell me what you feel."

Cole took a small step away and shook his head.

"It's okay, da'isha." Enasal said, taking it from Soals, "See? If Solas doesn't put magic in it, it won't do anything - it won't hurt you again."

He reached out, hesitating a bit. With a deep breath, he finally took it, a shudder going through him as he touched it. "Warm… warm, soft blanket cover, but - but it catches tears." His voice cracked again, "I'm the wrong shape…" As though hearing a noise, he snapped his neck around.

"What is it?" Solas asked anxiously.

Cole slowly turned to Varric, "That man."

Varric jerked his thumb behind him, "The one we saw on the way over here?"

He was pacing again, words falling out so quickly and disjointed that they ran together. With a shuddering gasp, he crouched on the ground, head buried between his knees. Enasal rushed over, kneeling by him and rubbing his back, "Breathe, da'isha, breathe." She took a deep, slow breath until Cole finally followed her lead. "Don't worry, da'isha." She said when his shaking had calmed, "We'll find out what's wrong, and we'll fix it, okay?"

He nodded but didn't say anything.

"Alright, Kid." Varric said, "Think you could take us to him?"

Cole stood, eyes on the floor.

"Okay." Varric reached up and lightly grabbed his arm, giving it a shake, "We'll go as soon as we can, okay?"

"Will you come with me?" Cole asked, looking between them all, "All of you?"

Varric nodded, "Sure, Kid."

Enasal nodded, "Okay, let me get out of this dress." She held out her hand, "Da'isha, can you come with me and make sure nobody comes into my room while I change?"

He took her hand and nodded. Enasal squeezed it once before looking between the two Inquisition gaurds, "Can you please give my apologies to Duke Toussaint? There's an emergency that needs to be attended to, but we'll be back by tomorrow, I promise." She snapped her fingers, "Let Annason know, too."

With a salute, one of the guards left.

"Thank you, come on, da'isha."

The moment she left, Varric crossed his arms over his chest, "Alright, Chuckles, I get it, you like spirits. But he came into this world to be a person. Let him be one."

"This is not some… fanciful story, child of the Stone." Solas said in a clipped tone, "We cannot change our nature by wishing."

Varric smirked, "You don't think? So Seastorm is still the same shaking and crying little elf we first met? Where every hurdle means it's time to cry and won't let either of us out of her sight without completely panicking?"

Solas frowned, "That's hardly the same thing."

"Well." He said with a shrug, "I think you can."

Solas was suddenly very interested in the amulet again, "However we deal with the problem, we will need to keep a close eye on Cole. He seems very volatile right now."

"Leave that to Seastorm." He chuckled, "My girl's got it under control."

Read the full fic from the beginning at my A03 here!

If you’re willing and able, feel free to donate to my ko-fi or drop a tip in the jar to help me afford my many medications to keep the crazy at bay!

#Enasal Lavellan #fanfiction #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fic #dai #dai fanfic #dai fanfiction #enasal tethras #inquisitor lavellan #Annason Garett #Annason #Solas #Solas the liar #Varric #varric tethras #Cole

[themusicalhermit]

I don’t know what exactly I’m doing to the trashbaby here, but he looks like a draugr. Possibly because I used a really dull pencil for most of it and lean heavily into the “this boy is severely underfed” theory. 

Also because I like drawing skeletal people out of some strange morbidity. (Please don’t reblog)

#why self why #random scrawlings #trashbaby #originally i was just testing out drawing noses straight on #this actually took a really long time #my one art skill is faces #i suck at everything else

[vargaslovinghours]

So full of contradictions

#💟 #Doodles #Art #Edgar #Scriabin #Blood #Ladyverse #Hey another random assortment nice #It's almost like letting myself draw Vargas stuff in my main notebooks means I draw more Vargas stuff #There's only one more page to test so hm-m #Anyhow - goin' down the line #Scriabin saying ''Gosh'' is very close in line with Edgar saying ''Dang'' to me it's very funny lol #A frustrated Edgar to practice angry creases on the nose - you can probably just barely see them but that's what I wanted to practice #Might need a few more goes but I'm pretty happy with how he turned out overall #Fully marshmallow'd doodles because yay ♥ #I was watching a scary video so I made some comfort doodles and then more comfort doodles! Cuddles are very good #I will stop making cutes never #I really should do that line gap to imply a kiss more often it's very cute and simple #And then straight to blood and crying :D Also yay #I was originally just going to draw him bleeding but then his face turned out like that and I was like ''Might as well'' #Don't cry into your open scars that hurts #And finishing off with some Ladyverse Edgar Violation-style #I guess it'd actually be Convalescence since she's got the eye patch but the butterfly #Yet another reason to reread Violation - think about Ladyverse for a few days haha

[technowoah]

Can you do a Karl x fem!reader where Karl keeps giving her gifts(flowers, armor etc) and reader is just really oblivious? Ty

I thought I was being obvious

THANKS FOR THE REQUEST! I HOPE YOU LIKE IT. I made it romantic if you didn't mind.

C!Karl Jacobs x fem!reader

⚠︎ fluff, mentions of weapons, im switching between 3rd person and 1st person but its all the same person (the reader)

It simply started with a chest full of flowers at her door step. When she opened the small chest every flower that she could imagine was inside, it was like someone picked every single one of those flowers from a huge field.

She had to try and bring those flowers back into the house so she decided in a moment of bliss to pick up the flowers from the box, instead of lifting the chest all together. Her arms were engulfed with tons of flowers tickling her nose while unkown to her a note was left on the grass beside the chest that held the flowers she is currently taking inside her house.

Dear my love,

I hope you enjoyed the flowers and I hope that you will accept this as an offer as a date, for us to be together for a small amount of time so that I can confess my feelings for you, but for now I hope that you can notice my advances. I would love to go on a date with you soon!

Love, Karl ♡︎

1st person

The next day was like no other day with you going out to either mine, or help and hang out with friends close by. She had ran into Tommy earlier and walked around with him while letting him talk and yell her ears off until they both ended up separating both having other people to attend to. Tommy went with Ranboo, which was unusual, while she went to Karl who was wandering around his house.

"Karl!" You said while waving the man in the colorblock hoodie.

"Oh hey y/n! Whats up?" Karl waved as you made your way back over to Karl where he was standing in the grass.

"I just had a walk with Tommy until he went with Ranboo for some reason, but I wanted to talk to you-"

"Really?!" Karl's eyes widened until he regained his composure.

"Yeah I wanted to check up on you! Like we always do." Your voice was weary not knowing what Karl's intentions were at this moment.

He looked disappointed in some way and you didnt know why. It was sad and confusing not to know why he was feeling this way and the only thing you could do was ask.

"Karl are you okay? What's wrong you know you can talk to me about anything!" You put your hand on his shoulder in a reassuring way.

His gaze was focused on the ground until he turned his head toward the hand the was laying on his shoulder.

"Im fine! Im all good its okay." Karl sent a smile towards your way trying to keep up his spirits up.

"Alright. I'll believe you. So what do you want to do?" You asked still weary if the situation.

"There's this field of flowers we could hang out in."

The next time it was a sword sheath with an enchanted netherite sword that glowed in the darkness that she revealed it it. Her mouth dropped while she put the sharp sword back into its sheath to protect her from getting cut.

She couldn't believe who would send this to her, but the gifts kept coming and she was no where close to knowing who it would be. There was a small note attached to the end of the sheath and she had picked it up and read the note that hung on a small string.

Dear Y/N,

I had made this from the leftover netherite in storage, I enchanted it and named it Toska, I love the meaning of that word and I hope one day I can tell the meaning to you. Thank you for always putting me friat in your mine and I hope you see me doing the same.

Love, Karl ♡︎

She finally she knew who was kind enough to send these gifts to her. She had placed the sword somewhere safe, so she could use it for combat, or even just keep the sword as a memorabilia from a friend. The sad thing was that she couldn't tell Karl's romantic advancments to her.

The next time this happened Karl had sent her an enchanted bow and arrow and netherite boots. She couldn't belive he remember that her original netherite boots broke. He had sent another note that went the same as the others, sending his love without blatantly saying that he loves her. He wanted to wait till they were face to face to say it, but at this point he thinks that they will stay just friends.

He could tell because if the gestures he would see from her, there was no revelation that he loved her for a while. She somehow didn't notice his advances and that made him want to give more until she finally noticed.

1st person

"Karl! Thanks for the sword It's beautiful." You said as you saw Karl walking on the Prime Path doing who knows what.

"Oh of course! Did you see the note with it?" He asked you with hopeful eyes.

"I did! It was really sweet. What does Toska mean?"

"Oh yeah! It means a longing for a specific something, somone." Karl said.

"That's adorable!" You said while Karl waited for something else.

"That's it?" Karl asked kind of annoyed.

Your eyes frurrowed, "What do you mean?"

Karl shifted while the two of you still stood in the middle of the Prime Path, his gaze was glued to the ground.

"Karl please tell me what's going on! You've been acting like this everytime we are standing together. Please this is bothering me!" You pleaded for your friend to talk to you.

He looked up with another one of his smiles, again, he looked disappointed behind those gleaming eyes.

"I thought I was being obvious, but its okay! Lets do something, let's go see what Big Q is doing." Karl rushed through his words as he grabbed your hand leading you through the prime path, trying to get his mind off of anything, but how good the feeling of your hand felt in his.

The next couple days you woke up to multiple peices if jewelry each day with small notes.

The first day after the bow and arrow was a necklace with a blue diamond with a note.

I LOVE YOU

-KJ

The day after that was a gold bracelet that you had feel in love with and ended up wearing everyday with another note attached.

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

-KJ

You hadn't seem Karl after that one day when he dragged you around the whole smp kingdom, and you were getting worried with all the gifts that he was working for. The fact that he spends time to find diamonds, enchant netherite, and find jewelry makes you worry for his sanity. Him spending this much time on you when you want it to be equal playing fields. You didn't want to feel like a queen, you just wanted to be loved.

You drew the line when in another chest there was a totem of undying.

Y/N I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I WANTED TO SAY THIS TO YOUR FACE, BUT IT SEEMS LIKE ITS NOT CLICKING SOMEHOW. I REALLY WANT TO BE WITH YOU AND I DONT KNOW HOW ELSE TO SAY THIS. I will love you till your last breath, if you happen to use the totem of undying, well it speaks for itself.

-KJ

You had rushed over to Karl's house where he was sat on his stairs looking out into the distance and the sky. He looked ao pretty with the wind in his hair and his colorful hoodie he was wearing.

You had stomped over to him with the totem of undying glowing in your hand.

"KARL!" You had raised the totem in his face and he was taken aback because you had raised a glowing piece of gold too close to his face.

You continued your rant, "Karl I like gifts, but this is drawing the line! A totem of undying?! This is way too much. You could've told me you loved me straight up front without the gifts! I would've accepted, whatever you were going to do! I love you too and you know that! I love you as a friend and as lover, I would love to be your girlfriend." You calmed down as Karl's eyes progressively started to return to their normal size instead of widened.

Karl started to chuckle with a small smile on his face.

"I thought I was being obvious!" Karl laughed and you lightly chuckled as well.

You brought him onto his feet and brung him into a hug in which he reciprocated. You both stayed there for a while until he pulled back and gave you a small, shy peck on your lips juts testing the waters. You had done the same giving him a small peck in return, both of you widely smiling at eachother.

"Y/N will you be my girlfriend?" Karl asked.

"Yes I will, only if you take the totem back."

"Deal!"

Authors Note//

After imagine thoughts: this was shorter than I thought- also have yall noticed I love Karl's eyes. Hope you liked it! 💜

Btw I didn't proofread, i usually dont, cause I wrote this during school hours..

#mcyt x reader #dream smp #karl jacobs angst #karl jacobs blurb #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs request #mcyt angst #mcyt blurb #mcyt fluff #mcyt headcanons #mcyt imagine #karl fluff #karl jacobs fluff #karl jacobs imagine #karl jacobs headcanons #karl jacobs #c!karl x reader #c!karl #requests open #requested #mcyt reader insert #dream smp x reader

[serendipitystyles]

here’s to us

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: Enemies To Lovers (with a twist)

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: You hate Harry more than you’ve ever hated anyone else, and he feels the same (or does he?). The people around you see the interactions that the two of you have and believe that you’re a match made in heaven, but you can’t see it, and you doubt he can either. When he’s the last option to help you with a project that you’re working on, things are either going to go very well, or they're going to crash and burn.

Warning(s): alcohol, cursing, kink talk, angst, sadness, innuendos, tension, a set of lovers trying to convince two people that they’re meant for one another, fluff

A/N: this was originally a piece written for a writing challenge but that’s been cancelled (i love u liv take your time i will still participate in any and every wc you ever do bb) so this is now just another piece haha!! Thank you to @tbslenthusiast​ and @harrysclementines​ for letting me know that this piece wasn’t as bad as i thought it was (literally forever ago like.... i wrote this a long time ago lmao)!!! Also thank you to @kiwismoon​ for letting me send you parts of the fic and scream about how much i hate myself for writing things like i did!!!

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REBLOG the fics that you like before there aren’t any more fics for you to enjoy!!!

*

Relaxing.

That’s what you were supposed to be doing tonight. You’ve been stressed out about the article that was due in less than a week and you were in need of a night out with your friends. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t find the inspiration to write the piece. Plus, you had been completely swamped with your school work. Even though you were still in college, you had gotten a job as a writer and chosen to take online classes. 

Sarah had suggested that you and her go out and have a few drinks. That had quickly developed into you, her, and Mitch. Then your ‘friend’ Michelle was added into the mix.

Now, you’re standing at the bar, waiting for your next shot of tequila and wondering how you let Sarah talk you into this. You hate bars. In all honesty, you only hate them because someone always seemed to mess up your nights when they were drunk. Luckily, that someone isn’t here tonight. You had made it abundantly clear to Sarah that if she were to invite anyone, it better not include him. 

As the bartender hands you your shot, you down it and place the glass down on the bar. You wait for him to retrieve it before turning to walk back to the table that Sarah, Mitch, and Michelle are occupying. Right before you sit down next to Sarah, you catch a glimpse of a very particular head of curls. Your stomach drops at the sight, and you immediately feel the urge to exit the building. There’s no way that you could mistake that for anyone else but Harry. He’s the only person that has curls as seemingly perfect as that. Plus, he’s the only broad shouldered, muscular, tattooed man that you’d ever seen around here with hair that’s grown out to the point where it passes his shoulders. 

Fighting the instinct to be as far away from him as possible, you sit down next to Sarah and do your best to ignore his presence.

That lasts all of three seconds. It’s as if something is pulling your focus towards him, and you can’t stand that, so you quickly tell Sarah that you’re going to head out. Grabbing your coat, you give her a story about suddenly having inspiration and not wanting to lose it before offering to take her almost empty cup back to the bar. She nods, wishing you a farewell.

As you’re making your way over to the bar, someone knocks into you and the small amount of liquid left in Sarah’s cup splashes onto your chest. You scoff, turning to tell whoever bumped into you to watch where they’re going. You’re met with a pair of piercing green eyes, and suddenly your words get caught in your throat. All you manage is a scoff and a quick “fuck you” before handing him the cup and walking out. 

You stand outside of the bar, leaning up against the brick wall of the building as you order an Uber for the ride home. The stench of alcohol is radiating from your shirt, and you almost gag at the smell. Beer has never been your favorite, and you have absolutely no clue how Sarah can drink it.

You place the order and go to stand on the sidewalk to wait for the car to pull up. 

“Fancy seeing you here.” The voice seems to carry through the entire street.

“What the fuck do you want, Harry?” you snap. The chuckle that he releases at your words makes your blood boil.

“Just wondering why you’re avoiding me, love.” You don’t have to turn to know that he has a smirk plastered on his face.

“Do you have a degradation kink or something?” Your words have their desired effect as he all but chokes on the air. 

“Um, no. Why? You trying to turn me on, darling?” You roll your eyes.

“Absolutely not.” How can he be so fucking annoying all the time? “I’m just wondering why you continuously pester me after I tell you how much of a dick you are and that I absolutely cannot fucking stand you.”

“Because normally when you do that, you find some way to compliment me. And I think it’s funny how flustered you get when you realize what you said.” You hear him walk closer to you, but you keep your eyes locked straight ahead of you.

“So you have a praise kink.”

When he speaks, his breath hits your ear. Fuck, you didn’t know he had gotten that close. You have to fight the shiver that’s threatening to run down your spine. You can’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’s having any kind of effect on you. “Do you want to test it out?”

You scoff, stepping away from him. “You fucking wish, Harry.”

He hums. “Maybe, maybe not.”

You finally turn to him. After seeing him, though, you begin to regret your decision. Seeing him like this, in a white t-shirt and black skinny jeans, hair forming his face in the most perfect way, isn’t doing you any good.

“I’m not going to be your temporary fix, Harry. Go find someone else to give you a good time.” He puts on an exaggerated pout. “I don’t even like you as a friend, so stop fucking around like that. It pisses me off.”

Before he can say anything else, your Uber arrives and you check the plates before getting in the backseat and shutting the door, effectively blocking him out.

What he would have said if your Uber hadn’t pulled up, though, is something that Harry decides you’ll never get to know. Because just when he was about to say, “I’d want you to be more than temporary,” you found a way to break his heart yet again.

*

The Uber driver has continuously given you looks since you got into the car. His nose scrunched up the moment that you closed the door, and honestly, you can’t blame him. You smell like cheap beer and probably look like an absolute mess. He’s most likely just checking to make sure that you don’t look like you’re about to throw up all over his backseat. 

You roll your eyes, trying your best to ignore him. It’s not even your fault that you’re like this right now, it’s Harry’s.

Harry, who you absolutely despise with every bit of your being. He’s been an arrogant, selfish dick since the very day that you met. He only cares about things when they include them,  constantly dropping comments about his success, and always finding a way to insert himself into any and every situation. You can’t seem to get away from him. He seems to be around no matter what you try (at first, you thought it was a coincidence, but now you’re convinced that he just does it to get on your nerves).

Harry, who’s so fucking annoying and unbearable but also so hot that he makes your mouth all but water. He can draw a reaction from you without even trying. Harry, who you’re so fucking attracted to despite hating him, and that fact makes you hate him even more.

It shouldn’t be like this. You shouldn’t be attracted to someone that makes your blood boil. 

I’m just drunk, you repeat to yourself as you push the thought of Harry as far out of your mind as you possibly can.

*

You groan as you walk out of the kitchen. 

“Y/N you know I’m right!” Sarah yells after you. “Stop trying to avoid it.”

Plopping down on Sarah’s black faux leather couch, you roll your eyes even though she can’t see it. “You’re delusional, Sarah!”

She doesn’t say anything until she comes into the living room and sits on the couch next to you. She has a bowl of chips in her hands. When you go to grab one, she pulls the bowl from your reach. 

“Admit it, you and Harry would be absolutely great together.” You could scream. She’s so adamant about the idea, but there’s no way that she could be right.

“Dude, we hate each other. What do you mean? What do you expect from us in a relationship if we can’t even be in the same room together for more than a few minutes without arguing.” She sighs, running a hand through her hair.

“I know, I know! But Y/N, come on. The two of you are so compatible.” You laugh at her words. How could she possibly think that when she sees the way the two of you interact.

“How so?” you ask, just to entertain her theory and let her get her thoughts out.

“Okay, hear me out. You both like music, right? He sings, you write songs. That’s literally perfect right there, even if you were just friends.” You nod, not saying anything. “You’re always talking about how you want to do hair and nails and stuff for your friends and I know that he’d let you paint his nails and play with his hair.” You had in fact been telling her these things, but you weren’t aware that she would choose to use them to try and set you up with Harry. “You’re both really funny and smart. You guys talk about a lot of the same things, too. It’s just never when you’re around each other.”

“Alright, yeah, that makes some sense.” She perks up slightly but you hold a finger up, motioning for her to wait a moment before getting her hopes up. “It makes sense, but you’re forgetting a few things. I couldn’t write songs for, or even with, Harry. He’d find something wrong with him just like he does now. He’d nitpick them until there was nothing that I could find about the song that he didn’t hate.” You sigh, thinking back to what she had just said. “We’d have to be too close to each other for me to mess around with his hair or nails and you know that every time we get within a few feet of each other, there’s some kind of fight that always gets started,” you trail off, giving her a chance to speak.

“Are you going to give me a reason why the last example of why you’re perfect for each other is incorrect?” She groans when you nod.

“Yeah, actually. We may like the same things and be funny and smart or whatever, but there’s no way that we’d be able to talk to each other.” 

“Why?” 

“His communication issues.” She throws her head back and obnoxiously groans.

“He doesn’t have communication issues.”

You burst out laughing. “He’s an Aquarius. Of course he does, right on top of those commitment issues.”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Whatever, Y/N. One of these days you’re going to understand that the two of you are quite literally a match made in Heaven.”

“Not likely,” you mumble before reaching for the remote and finding a movie to put on.

*

“Wait, what?” Mitch is looking at Harry like he’s grown a second head.

“You guys were right. Always have been, really, I just couldn’t say it before now.” Harry gulps, waiting for the ‘I told you so.’ It doesn’t come, though.

“Fuck, dude, I’m so sorry.” Harry shrugs it off.

“Not letting it get to me anymore. I’m tired of letting her break my heart.” He curses himself when tears begin to line his eyes.

“If I had known you really felt that way I would have backed off.” Harry nods at his words. “Sarah would’ve too.”

“It’s fine, Mitch, really. I just, I’m just tired, you know? It’s like there’s a magnetic force pulling me to her but every time I try to get close she shows me, yet again, that she can’t stand me.” He’s never been ashamed to show his feelings, and right now isn’t when he’s going to start. He lets his tears fall down his face as he leans back against the chair he’s sitting in.

“I really didn’t know, H. Normally I can tell when you like someone but it wasn’t like that this time.” Harry nods at him.

“You get pretty good at hiding your feelings when you’re hiding heartbreak after heartbreak.” He’s silent for a moment. “Should I cut off my hair?”

“If you want. But don’t do it just because you’re sad or you’ll regret it.” Harry closes his eyes as he debates the decision. A part of him wants to do it anyway, make the sadness go away for a moment as the exhilaration of a new haircut sinks in, but the rational part of him knows that Mitch is right.

As he sits there with tear stained cheeks, new droplets wetting his face every few seconds, he really wishes that he could hate you. He wishes that he could find anything to hate about you. But when he searches his brain for a reason to dislike you, he comes up empty. It’s frustrating, really. You seem to hate everything about him while he can’t hate a single thing when it comes to you.

He hears Mitch get up, presumably to go get something to eat, but he doesn’t open his eyes. There are a million memories with you flashing through his mind and it hurts him even more to know that every single one of them have been bad.

*

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Your voice is high pitched, some would even say a little whiny. “Sarah, you promised me that you’d sing the song for me.”

“I know, Y/N. But something urgent came up with Mitch’s family and I have to be there.” Even over the phone, you can hear how worried that she is, so you can’t really bring yourself to be upset with her.

“It’s fine, Sarah. Really, I understand.” You hear her sigh of relief and a small smile graces your face, glad that she now has one less thing to worry about. “I’ll just find someone else to do it.”

“Ask Harry.” She suggests.

“Why would I do that?” The way your mood changed was immediate and it’s almost sad, how fast he gets you worked up.

“Because, Y/N, this project is due in like two days and he’s available.” She says in her duh voice. “Plus, he can sing really well, so just ask him. The worst thing he can say is no.”

“That’s a lie. The worst thing he can say is yes.” Sarah laughs before wishing you good luck and hanging up.

You groan, thinking about what Sarah said. She’s right, honestly. There’s nobody else that you’re going to find on such short notice, especially not one that can sing as good as Harry can. Admitting to yourself that you need him (which is something you never thought you’d say), you pick up your phone and click on his contact.

“Y/N?” His voice sounds deeper than usual, a little raspier, too. Almost like he just got out of bed. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t have an effect on you, the way your name sounds coming out of his mouth when he sounds like that.

“I need your help.” You grimace at the words.

“Alright. What do you need.” Your mind races, trying to figure out why he didn’t have a sarcastic comment or a snarky remark to throw at you. You ignore it for now, though.

“I need you to sing a song that I wrote for a project.” He hums, and you can picture him pulling his bottom lip between his fingers and then running his hand through his curls.

“Okay, when do you need me?” 

“Does tomorrow work? Around noon?” You hold your breath as you hope for the best.

“Yeah, I’ll be at your place then.”

You thank him and hang up, letting your phone fall from your hand down onto the couch. Harry Styles, the man that you swear you hate, is coming to your house tomorrow. 

*

When he arrives the next day, you almost immediately hand him the song and let him read over it, not necessarily wanting to spend any more time with him than needed. When he says he has a few suggestions, you’re terrified that he’s going to tell you how awful he is, but he actually only has a few suggestions to help with the flow of things. Besides that, he promises that it’s a really good song. 

You go to grab your camera and set it up while he strums on the guitar that he brought. Once you’re ready to begin filming, he sets the paper with the lyrics on it to the side and nods.

He begins singing after the camera has started recording and you get entranced by him almost immediately. His eyes close as soon as the first word leaves him mouth and with them shut you feel much more comfortable while looking at him. His hair is flowing all around him and you have the intense urge to tuck the strands behind his ears. There’s a small crease between his brows, that of which she wants to smooth out with a kiss to his forehead. He seems so concentrated, and something about it pulls at her heartstrings.

You shake your head. He’s your enemy, remember? you think to yourself as you divert your eyes to somewhere else in the room. 

After you’ve looked away you find yourself wondering why. Why do you hate Harry so much, really? Yeah he can be arrogant and cocky and rude but who isn’t? Yeah he talks about his famous life and his awards and chart placements a lot, but you would do the same in his shoes.

Plus, he really is pretty funny now that you stop to really think about it. He’s all the things that Sarah had told you over the past few months, and you can’t believe that you didn’t realize until now. You don’t hate Harry, you’ve been convincing yourself that you do to hide the way that you really feel about him.

You’re broken from your thoughts when he clears his throat. Once you turn to him, there’s a smirk on his face. “Could feel you watching me, love.”

Your cheeks burn at the statement. Regardless of the truth in it, you’re still not very keen on admitting that you were ogling him only minutes prior. 

“It’s alright, I find myself looking at you sometimes, too.” You don’t say anything to that, and the room falls quiet. 

With that stupid smirk, that’s way too hot for it to natural and fair, he picks up his keys and his coat and walks to your front door. “See you later, sweetheart.”

You raise your hand in a pathetic half wave goodbye and try your best to smile. As he opens the door, cold air sweeps through the room and you can see the snowflakes falling outside. “Great, there’s a storm.” He groans, but still continues to walk out the door.

“Harry, wait!” He stops, turning to face you. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Um… leaving?” He gestures towards his car that’s most likely covered in snow by now.

“Not in this weather you’re not.” Your voice grows hard as you glare at him. You know that he’d most likely rather not be around you, but there’s not a chance in hell that you’re going to allow him to risk his life by driving home.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t put up a fight, he just shuts the door and shrugs his coat back off. He hesitantly comes back over to take a seat on the couch. You stay silent, struggling to find the words to say.

“So, um, do you want to watch something?” He asks after a few minutes of nearly unbearable silence.

“Yeah, I’ve been watching Lucifer on Netflix, but if you don’t want to watch that, we can watch a movie or something.” You offer, looking over at him.

“Yeah, we can watch that.” You grab the remote from the table and walk over to sit next to him on the couch. 

Pulling up Netflix and starting Lucifer, you let your eyes wander to Harry for a split second before noticing that he’s already looking at you. You immediately divert your gaze. Your cheeks begin to heat up, but you try your best to ignore it.

*

After watching almost an entire season of Lucifer, you’re just about ready to go to bed. You’ve gotten increasingly more comfortable beside Harry and you’ve even started to lean into him slightly. Not a single part of your body is touching yours, but you can tell that you’ve gotten closer.

You’re about to get up and brush your teeth when the lights go out. You groan, throwing your head back against the back of the couch. “Great, power’s out.”

He doesn’t say anything, just hums in response. 

“Stay where you are. I know where the candles and the flashlight is, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself trying to get around.” You stand up, feeling your way through the living room towards the kitchen. Opening the cabinet closest to the wall, you pull out the three candles and the flashlight. Fuck, you forgot that there are only two candles. That’s not enough for there to be one in the hallway on the table, in the bathroom, and in the living room for Harry. And fuck, your extra blankets are in the washer.

You shake your head, lighting the candles and walking to the bathroom to place one down, and then through to the hallway to do the same. Making your way back to the kitchen, you pick up the flashlight and switch it on.

Once you reach the living room again, you clear your throat. “Okay, bad news. There were only two candles, and they need to be in the hallway and the bathroom.” You cough awkwardly. “Also, my extra blankets are dirty and I don’t want you to lay out here in the dark and freeze to death so,” your voice gets quieter, “do you maybe wanna come lay with me?”

He chokes on his spit and then clears his throat. “Um, yeah, yeah, sure. If that’s okay with you, of course. Remember, I can always go home.” You shake your head as his words.

“Nonsense, come on.”

Once the two of you are in your room, you climb into your bed and wait for Harry to do the same. Neither of you say a word as you get comfortable as you try to get to sleep. Without the heater working and there only being one blanket, though, it’s a little hard to stay warm and comfortable. “Um, Harry, I- can I- you- can we maybe… fuck I don’t know.”

You feel him turn towards you. “Are you cold, love?”

“Yeah.”

He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, letting you lay your head on his chest and wrap yourself up in his embrace. His arms come to wrap around you and one hand finds its way to your hair as the other rests on your hip.

As you bask in his warmth, you try your best to not let yourself think about the way that you feel so perfectly comfortable in his arms. About how he smells so divine and he’s so warm that you’d be content with never leaving his embrace. About how, without even realizing it, you’ve been letting yourself believe that you hate Harry when really you’re in love with him. However, you’ll never tell him that. Not a chance. If there’s one thing that you absolutely will not do, it’s let Harry Styles break your heart.

*

When you open your eyes the next morning, you’re still in Harry’s arms. He isn’t awake yet, so you let yourself appreciate the way that his hair is tickling your face and the way that his arms are holding you tightly to his body. You let yourself enjoy the way that he’s got ahold of you like he can’t bear to lose you. 

You know that when he opens his eyes, everything is going to go back to normal. You’ll have to hate him again and he’ll pretend that none of this ever happened. That thought shouldn’t hurt you as much as it does.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by his voice. “Mornin’, love. Did you sleep well?”

You nod, all but entranced in the way that his voice is so much raspier when he first wakes up. “Sorry for being all over you, it was cold last night.” 

You go to move away from him, but he keeps you hugged to him. “Don’t apologize, like having you here, dove.” The words confuse you, but you don’t question them. Instead, you let yourself relax back into him.

Everything is silent for a few minutes, but the air is comfortable this time. “Do you wanna go get some coffee if the roads aren’t bad?” Harry whispers.

“Yeah, sure.”

The two of you climb out of bed and get ready for the day. You let him use an extra toothbrush and once you brush through your hair, you hand the tool to him. He gives a small “thanks” and gets to work on taming his hair as you walk out of the bathroom.

A few minutes later, he’s walking towards the living room with his keys and then he’s leading you out the door to his car.

The ride to the coffee shop is silent besides the hum of the radio, neither of you really knowing what to say.

Once the two of you slide into a booth at the little diner that he drove you to, you order a coffee and something as he does the same.

“So, tell me about yourself, Y/N. I don’t really know much about you.”

You hesitate for a moment, trying to figure out what to tell him.

“I write. My job is to write articles for this company. But I’m still in school technically, so I’m taking online classes to finish getting my degree. I like songwriting. Um, I think that’s about it.” Your cheeks heat up as you tell him about yourself, although none of the things that you’re listing are embarrassing.

“Why haven’t you ever talked about your songwriting before?” He ponders, placing his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his hand.

“Um, you hate me. Or.. hated me? I don’t know. I don’t want you to tear it apart just because you’re some hotshot writer. Or because you hate me.”

He pulls back, looking down. “Never hated you.”

“What?” You had to have heard that wrong.

“Ever stop to think why I was only rude when you got rude first?”

Your jaw drops as you think it over. “No, um, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, well. I never hated you.”

“So, you’re telling me that I hated you and you just… never hated me?” He grimaces.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He offers you a soft smile. “It’s fine.”

Throughout the next few hours, you sit there with Harry and talk about any and everything that comes to your mind. He pays for the bill, although you insist on letting you help. As you’re walking out to his car and he’s about to drive you home, he stops. “Um, hey would you maybe want to hang out some more?”

The question takes you by surprise, but you agree nonetheless. “Yeah, I actually would really like that.”

He nods, climbing into the car as you smile to yourself.

*

It’s been six months since you made Harry stay over at your house because of that pesky snowstorm, and you’ve never been more thankful for the weather.

You’ve spent the majority of your time together, going out to eat when possible and staying over at your house most nights. His is too big, as you’ve always said, so for the simple sleepovers, you insisted that he came over to yours. You’ve grown closer and closer to him, and now you can confidently say that he’s your best friend.

Along with the growing friendship, your feelings have gotten deeper. There’s not a single part of you can deny that you’re absolutely, head over heels in love with Harry. And you don’t want to anymore. You still don’t want to tell him, but you’re no longer lying to yourself in the slightest.

Today is the only day thus far that you’ve even slightly regretted how close that you’ve become with Harry. And that’s because you’re currently standing at the airport, head buried into his chest as you try to find a way to say goodbye for the next six months. 

“Don’t want you to go.” You whine as you hold him as close as you possibly can.

He murmurs a “fuck it” before pulling away from you.

“Come with me.” Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “I know, it sounds crazy. Absolutely ridiculous. But listen, we’ll go home, back to your place and we’ll pack your bags and then we’ll go. I’ll reschedule my flight. I- I can’t do this without you, Y/N.” He reaches up and runs a hand through his curls (which you’d begged him to let you braid, but he said it was easier to have it down for flights). “Listen, you’re my rock. I- I feel like I can breathe when you’re around me. Fuck, Y/N, I’m in love with you.” 

You freeze, completely shocked by the words that fell from his mouth.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to say that. That was stupid. Forget I ever said anything.” He’s rambling because he thinks there’s no way that you can feel the same but you do.

“I’m in love with you, H. Have been for a long time.” Before he can respond, you surge forward and grab his face in your hands. Bringing his face closer, you slot your lips with his and allow the kiss to envelop you. After a few moments, you pull back. “Let’s go home and get my bags packed.”

*

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #okay yeehaw tell me what you think #here's to us

[bureowo]

love confessions | stray kids headcanons (danceracha version)

how they would confess their love for you.

genre: fluff. | word count: ~2k total. | warnings: none.

. ⋅ ˚̣-:✧masterlist✧:-˚̣⋅ .

a/n: hi i’m back with a new hc post (❀◦‿◦) i’m trying a new format w this one pls let me know how we feel abt it! i really hope you enjoy it ( • ᵕ • )♡ i’ll try to post the other parts soon!! 💗

⊹ minho ⊹

❥ there’s not a chance minho is confessing until he’s absolutely, one hundred percent sure that his feelings for you are reciprocated. it’s just not happening, sorry luv. 😔

❥ that being said, though, he would definitely still dip his toe in the water.

❥ he’d flirt with you, very subtly at first, only to test your reaction; but overtime (and if you don’t show any signs of discomfort) he’d grow more and more daring.

❥ minho’s got a keen eye, taking mental notes of every single compliment or pet name that leaves you flustered or manages to draw out a bashful giggle from within you.

❥ however ! as much as he’s constantly and shamelessly batting his eyes at you, he’s also rather ‘hot and cold’ about it.

❥ it’s not like he’s purposefully trying to keep you on your toes or anything like that, it’s just... sometimes you smile at him so brightly, or you look at him with such a gleam in you eyes..., that his heart feels like it’s being squeezed, compressed against his chest; so he needs to tone it down sometimes, just so he can catch his breath.

❥ it’s one evening when the two of you are hanging out that minho is being uncharacteristically quiet.

❥ you try to make up for his quietude, not wanting to push him if he’s not in a particularly chatty mood, yet, soon enough, you begin running out of topics to blather about.

❥ sure, he chuckles at the little remarks and facial expressions you make as you speak, but the way he’s looking at you makes the hairs all over your body stand on end; there’s just something about it you can’t quite put your finger on.

❥ so you suggest watching a movie. he agrees with a soft grin and you power on your laptop; you read out a few titles, summarizing the plot and commenting on the posters.

❥ but all you get in response is: “whichever you like, y/n.”

❥ you turn around to face minho, eyebrows furrowed slightly. “hey, is everything okay?” he seems taken aback by your question. “it’s just- i don’t know, you’re being kinda... silent” you trail off.

❥ “it’s okay if it’s just that!” you add quickly, your words almost jumbling together. “if you just don’t wanna talk- it’s alright, i just- i care about you, so... yeah...”

❥ your face feels so warm you think you could burst into flames at any given moment.

❥ minho looks down, gnawing on his lip and fingers fumbling with each other for what feels like an eternity; your stomach churns every time he sighs.

❥ eventually, he peers at you through his lashes, and you swear you catch a glimpse of a rosy blush ghosting over his cheekbones for the fraction of a second.

❥ “y/n, i-” he stalls, his hands still fidgeting restlessly on his lap. “i'm fine, i just- i love you.”

❥ all your motor functions seem to stop working at once (did he really just say that??).

❥ “what?” you gape at him, voice small and eyes doe.

❥ “i love you, y/n.” he repeats. “and i care about you too, a lot.” minho’s gaze pierces straight through yours and your heart rate raises to a hundred beats per minute.

❥ “minho-” your head is spinning so fast you don’t even know what you’re saying, but when you feel his fingers intertwining with yours, it’s like the words draw themselves out of your mouth. “i love you too.”

❥ and the way he beams at you so radiantly before leaning in to press his mouth over yours makes you feel a way you’ve never felt before.

❥ (you did end up watching a movie, although neither of you paid much attention to it, finding each other’s lips to be much more captivating.)

⊹ hyunjin ⊹

❥ poor little bub, he’d get so nervous once he actually commits himself to confessing his feelings for you, you’d end up thinking he’s purposefully avoiding you.

❥ but he just wants it to be absolutely perfect you know? like, straight out of a movie scene, so he just needs time to map out the perfect plan.

❥ and once he’s got it all figured out, it’s time to set ‘operation: steal y/n’s heart’ into motion. 👏

❥ it’s early noon on a sunday when you suddenly get a text from hyunjin – ‘it’s lovely outside today! do you wanna hang out at the park?’

❥ and, happy that he’s no longer seemingly evading you, you agree – ‘sure i’ll meet you there in ten!’

❥ but ! hyunjin wasn’t expecting you to accede so readily; still, he can’t just ask you, out of the blue, to wait half an hour before leaving, he doesn’t want you to get suspicious.

❥ so he hurriedly gathers his things, quickly double-checking that he’s got everything he needs to sweep you off your feet, before scurrying out the front door.

❥ you arrive at the park, and hyunjin’s heart begins hammering inside his chest the second he spots you amongst the people; you look so incredibly stunning as you glide through the crowd (ethereal, hyunjin thinks).

❥ you catch sight of him standing on a less populated side of the park, a blanket spread out over the grass beside him, and rush over to him, greeting him as soon as you reach him.

❥ “ooh, did you prepare all of this for me?” you ask him merrily, a playful grin on your face while you motion towards the picnic basket and multiple containers filled with various fruits.

❥ “yes” he wants to tell you; but instead he turns around, hoping you didn’t see the blush dusting over his cheeks. he sits himself on the blanket and you follow suit.

❥ for a bit, hyunjin relaxes, he even nearly forgets his true intentions, loosing himself in the way your eyes shine as you tell him what you’ve been up to and the hums you let out when you pop a particularly sweet grape into your mouth.

❥ you smile at him, tilting your head down slightly. “why are you looking at me like that?” you simper.

❥ hyunjin’s heart does a somersault all the way up to his trachea. “i just-” he clears his throat. “you make me so crazy.”

❥ he rubs his hands over his face, you cock an eyebrow, yet before you can retort he keeps going: “i’m so crazy for you, y/n, you make me forget where i am and what i’m doing. all i can do is think of you, and look at you, and love you. god, y/n, i’m so in love with you, sometimes i don’t know what to do with myself.”

❥ you feel warm despite the breeze licking your face, the butterflies inside your stomach flap their little wings so fast you just can’t help but let out a chortle at the sensation.

❥ his hand moves to encompass yours and you can’t get the words out fast enough so you lean across the soft blanket and plant your mouth over his own.

❥ his lips are soft, supple, and taste sweet, like the strawberries he’d been eating.

❥ “i love you too.” you mumble as your fingers entangle themselves in his hair.

❥ (hyunjin ended up forgetting about his original plan, and about the bouquet of flowers laying inside the picnic basket, though he did give it to you later after he walked you home; you held his hand the entire way there, and his heart beat frantically as he kissed you goodbye.)

⊹ felix ⊹

❥ it’s not that felix isn’t planning on confessing, on ultimately declaring his undying love for you with a grand, romantic display.

❥ he just kinda thought you’d know about his feelings by now? like, how could you not?? especially since he’s been acting more and more bold each time the both of you meet.

❥ he’s not shy about holding your hand whenever he feels the longing, or lingering for an extra second or two when he gets the chance to hold you.

❥ but if you’re not picking up on the very obvious seed trail he’s laying out for you, then it’s time to draw out the big guns. 😎

❥ and so, he texts you – ‘hey! wanna come over & help me bake?’ – and, of course, you agree.

❥ you arrive at his doorstep and felix greets you with a wide smile and a warm hug; the cozy feeling stays with you even after the two of you part.

❥ he ushers you into the kitchen and you don’t seem to notice how his hand remains on your shoulder as he follows behind you.

❥ all ingredients and utensils are set up and ready on the kitchen counter.

❥ “what are we making?” you question him with a smile so beautiful he actually has to stop and think about it.

❥ “uh-” he mutters, his eyes focused on you. “oh, yeah! cupcakes!”

❥ you lower your chin ever so slightly, evading his gaze for a split second (could you be... blushing?), and felix grins, pleased.

❥ the two of you start mixing the ingredients, chit-chatting as you normally would, except you could swear he’s flirting with you; he showers you in compliments for every little thing you do (“woah y/n, you’re so good at sifting the flour!”, “ooh, you cracked this egg so perfectly, y/n, look!”), his fingers encase yours every time he asks you to hand him something, and you keep catching him glancing over at your lips.

❥ your stomach rumbles, but you can’t tell if it’s from hunger or from the butterflies flapping their wings furiously inside it.

❥ you set the tray of cupcakes inside the oven before turning around and leaning over the kitchen table, gaze fixed pointedly on felix across from you; he just looks so dreamy, brows furrowed in concentration and arm flexed as he whisks the mix for the frosting, you could look at him all day.

❥ he gazes back at you and the corners of his mouth tug up into what you can only describe as a smirk.

❥ your breath catches in your throat at the very moment the mixer judders in his hand and you let out an audible gasp when frosting spritz all over the both of you.

❥ felix looks at you like a deer in the headlights, but you can’t help the giggles that bubble from within your chest.

❥ “this isn’t how i wanted this to go, but,” he scratches the back of his head (unconsciously smearing frosting all over his hair), a chuckle escaping past his lips and a toothy smile on his face. “i love you, y/n.”

❥ your digit glides over the table, scooping some of the mixture before gently tapping his nose. “i love you too.” you chirp.

❥ felix leans towards you, hand reaching out to caress your cheek; he gapes at you for a moment, completely enthralled.

❥ you get even nearer to him, your mouth opens (god, he can’t stop staring at your lips).

❥ “do you smell something burning?” you ask.

❥ “oh no, my cupcakes!”

❥ (although felix didn’t get to decorate the cupcakes with little frosting hearts, or spell ‘i ♡ u’ with the cupcakes, or even make cupcakes for that matter, he figured things worked out okay anyway; in the end, he got loads of cuddles and kisses out of it, and i love you sounded a whole lot better coming out of your mouth.)

#stray kids reactions #stray kids headcanons #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz reactions #skz headcanons #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids reaction #stray kids scenario #stray kids imagine #skz scenario #skz imagine #lee know reactions #lee know headcanons #hyunjin reactions #hyunjin headcanons #felix reactions #felix headcanons

[rosy-wooyoung]

la rose du bohneur | j. yunho

pairing: husband!yunho x reader (mention of the reader being a teacher) word count : 867 genre: established relationship, fluff, non-idol!au tw: none a/n: i am so not inspired to write those days, i wanted to originally post this for my nct account back then, but i’ve been slowly swerving to yunho since the comeback 🥺

╰☆☆☆☆╮

“Honey!” your husband Yunho screamed from downstairs, waiting for you to come out of your home office. Glasses sliding off your nose as you tied your hair up, you leant against the wooden railing with a smile. “Yes, baby?” Yunho beamed at the sight of you, and he adjusted his baseball cap on his head. “I’ll be in the garden for the next hour or so, just to warn you,” he said, eyes lingering on you as you walked down the stairs.

“Okay. Have you applied sunscreen?” “Ah shit, no, I forgot,” he shook his head and you grabbed his hand, leading him to the bathroom. You opened one of the drawers under the bathroom sink and rummaged through your makeup stuff, finally finding the triangular tube you were looking for. Forcing a hand on your husband’s chest to make him lean against the sink, you took off his baseball cap, only to put it on backwards with his front hair tucked underneath. You smiled at your husband as you squeezed some product on your hand, asking questions about your work while you rubbed your hands on his face. Applying the sunscreen on his arms, cheekbones, neck and forehead, Yunho couldn’t help but admirably look at you.

“I still can’t believe that an angel like you agreed on marrying me,” he stated while you washed the remaining sunscreen off your hands. You chuckled and shook your head, a huge grin decorating your lips at his words. “I can’t believe a sweet man like you proposed to me,” you riposted, drying your hands on the hanging towel. He leant towards you to peck your lips, but you swiftly backed off, giggling. “No kiss! Not when you are spread with sunscreen like now!” “Darling, please, come on!” Yunho giggled and pouted as you ran away from him, his slippery hand on your arm allowing you to escape. “No!” you ran the first half of the stairs, ready to go and hide in your office in case of a sudden attack. “Just one kiss? Baby, please?” His pleading eyes made you cave in, nodding before walking down the stairs again, circling your arms around his sticky neck.

Just as promised, you pressed your lips on his in a quick peck, the chemical taste of the product melting in your kiss. You pulled away and laughed as your husband wiped his mouth with the back of the hand, the weird taste only increasing because of his actions. You wrapped your arms around his neck, laughing as you felt him lower his head to wipe his mouth on your cardigan.

“I’ll get going then,” he mumbled and kissed your cheek, pulling away from your embrace. “Have fun baby,” you winked at him and walked upstairs as he went out on the patio, putting his sunglasses on.

After saying goodbye to your students on Zoom and correcting the last English test of the day, Yunho knocked on the wall to draw your attention, peeking his head in the doorway with a bright smile on his face.

“You busy hon?” You shook your head after closing your red pen, spinning your office chair to face him. “Look how beautiful they are-” your eyes widened and your jaw dropped at the sight of the red roses he held in his hands. You gasped, walking up to him to admire the beautiful handmade bouquet.

“They’re wonderful Yun, I love them,” you beamed as you delicately touched the petals, loving the silky texture of your favourite flowers on your fingertips. At the beginning of your relationship, when Yunho had asked you what your favourite flowers were, he made a mental note of it for the future. Before thinking about moving together, Yunho inquired with a gardener to have basic knowledge so that the rose bushes grow in the best ways possible. He didn’t hesitate to plant some in the garden as soon as you bought your house together, taking extra care of them, sometimes bringing you a single flower when you felt stressed or sad. It always made you smile and this gesture slowly became a habit, sometimes buying roses for you when he came home from work when the ones in the garden hadn’t bloomed yet.

“You did such a great job,” you pushed falling pieces of hair away from his eyes, earning nothing but a happy, blushing Yunho. Seeing your husband becoming as red as the flowers he held was a sight you'd never get tired of, giggling before kissing him on the cheek. “Thank you,” he mumbled and you took the flowers, walking downstairs to the kitchen with him to place them in a vase filled with water. Yunho opened the fridge and drank straight from the sparkly lemonade bottle, earning a side glance from you as he did so.

“I’m sorry, I was so thirsty,” he said and you rolled your eyes, placing the vase on the kitchen counter. “You’re lucky I love you,” you mumbled and he smiled, circling his flushed, sweaty arms around your waist. “I love you too, sweetheart. Are you coming to chill on the patio with me?” your lover suggested and you took the lemonade bottle from his hand, only to have him smiling as you took a few sips of the beverage you had made a few nights before. “Let me change into something more comfortable and I’m all yours,” you said while handing him the bottle back, kissing his lips before walking upstairs.

#ateezlovenet #yunho fluff #yunho timestamp #jung yunho #ateez #ateez soft hours #ateez soft #jung yunho soft #jung yunho soft hours #soft yunho #yunho #yunho x reader #yunho scenarios #romance #love #ateez au #ateez!husband #yunho!husband #ateez x reader #ateez yunho #ateez soft yunho #yunho fluff imagines #yunho soft imagines #kpop fluff #kpop blurbs #ateez blurbs #ateez soft blurbs #kpop soft hours #ateez timestamp #yunho drabbles

[abraxos-the-phantom]

Scum Disciple Deleted

-scenes. Here you go @vodkassassin. Unformatted and mostly unedited save for some awkward phrasing I fixed as I skimmed through it. I have a habit of merely taking out scenes rather than straight deleting them when I don't think they work out so if you see it on the fic shhh I probably just found a better place for it, but for the most part I think these are unused

TLJ + MF; Flashback/Illusion

[Log: File:Save_??-???.?.????.log]

“You know, for a man so keen on maintaining the preference of a dignified cultivator, you are fairly quick to disband such things as you see fit,” Tianlang-jun mused.

Ming Fan threw a dirty look to the former Overlord of the Demonic Realm over his bowl of beef stir fry lily bulbs. It was a specialty in this region, boasting a sweet lily bulb due to the length of time the farmers around the area spent cultivating the plant. In other words, it was delicious and a welcome change to the guilt trip galore that was eating Lou Binghe’s cooking.

Oh to eat that delicious snow congee without feeling the compulsion to throw it all back up-

Well, no use dwelling on such things.

“Most of anything could be considered vulgar when in close proximity to you,” Ming Fan quipped, taking a generous helping of the stir-fry between his chopsticks. “If you had as much sensibility as you had sensuality, I guarantee that people would be more fond of you. Unfortunately, it is too late for me.”

“Hoh? Is that so?” Tianlang-jun’s lips curled in a smirk in spite of the fact that Ming Fan had no interest looking his way, regardless of the other demon happened to do. Some odd five or so years have taught Ming Fan that there were times when the best move for dealing with the other was simply ignoring him.

Ming Fan maintained his bland tone as he briefly paused to speak, “Yes.”

Tianlang-jun shook his head, “Honestly. Are all disciples of Cang Qiong like you, or are you just the special one.”

Said disciple only gave Tianlang-jun a significant dirty look, “You’d have to actually behave yourself to get to know another disciple of Cang Qiong.”

“Eh,” the Heavenly Demon leaned back against his chair with his hands crossed behind his head. “Too boring.”

Ming Fan made a noncommitting sound as he finally ate the last of his order, letting out a satisfied sigh as he leaned back in his seat.

“Ming Fan, a question if you are so gracious enough to grant me such a thing.”

Ming Fan only raised a brow, “You may ask, whether I answer is not on the table.”

“Why?” Tianlang-jun paused as he attempted to think about his question. “Why do you maintain this relationship of ours? It’s not as if you’re on any obligation to maintain basic relations for a political reason, and you hardly ask me anything so you aren’t after my wisdom. With Lou Binghe going in and out Cang Qiong Sect, it’s not as if I can threaten your Sect any more than I could try and fight with my son.”

Ming Fan crossed his arms, humming for a moment tilting his head just enough to convey thoughtfulness he turned to look the demon lord in the eye, “If you were to be confronted with a former enemy of a war without meaning, what would you do?”

Tianlang-jun hummed, “I wouldn’t care.”

“Exactly,” Ming Fan pointed out. “Now what would you do if you discovered you were on the wrong side of that war?”

“…I still wouldn’t care.”

“Would you?” Ming Fan hummed, “Well, that’s your choice.”

“So is that all? You pity me?”

“Not quite,” Ming Fan shrugged, idly arranging the finish plate on the table. “More like my recompense of sorts.”

Tianlang-jun’s expression was unreadable as he stared, quietly adding, “You realize that I’ve killed hundreds of cultivators like you. Your age, younger- older. It didn’t matter, they were obstacles in my path and I removed them.”

“Of that I do not doubt, but these days- the line between righteous and mad is thin,” Ming Fan snorted. “I stand at the meager in-between myself. But what else can I do? I am but a mere mortal, attempting to right his wrongs.”

Ming Fan took a final sip at his tea, “Sometimes, that is all one can do without going well and truly mad.”

Tianlang-jun chuckled, “I suppose that’s true.”

The hours seemed endless after that, a moment in time felt like hundreds upon billions as the two simply- existed.

“So,” Tianlang-jun said after an eternity’s moment. “What are you doing here Little Cultivator?”

Ming Fan blinked, “Is this not one amongst our many meetings?”

The world seem to blur around him like ink amongst a pool of water. Fading into implied images as the sky and trees distorted. The sounds of the earth quieted to a hushed whisper. Ming Fan’s eyes casted around in confusion as the lively village dulled into a dead silence.

“It isn’t,” Tianlang-jun leaned back, smirking. “You’ve spent so long with me that I am now here with you- in limbo. I’m flattered Fan-er.”

Ming Fan narrowed his eyes, scowling, before looking away, “Definitely. Tianlang-jun never called me that to my face.”

Ming Fan twisted away from the…demon for some time to think.

TLJ + MF - Actual Flashback

“You look like you went a round and three more with a golem,” Tianlang-jun tsked at him.

“Are you going to lecture me about coming out while I look like I lost against said golem or are you going to sit your ass down and have some tea like we agreed?” Ming Fan snapped, wincing as he sat.

Tianlang-jun whistled wolfishly. “Why, I never took that War God to be the kinky type.”

“Don’t be so obscene,” Ming Fan rolled his eyes. “He landed me flat on my ass almost a dozen times. Of course sitting down would be a pain.”

“You know there’s this flower that-“

“No.”

“But I hurt just looking at you,” Tianlang-jun whined like a particularly annoying brat. “One tiny little adventure to look for a flower that heals bruises instantly, it’s a Lotus of a blue hue, I hear those people from the far West have been using it for some time.”

“And then Liu Qingge will have me spar against him, again, and this hellish circle will repeat itself. I am only saved by the fact that my cultivation is not as advanced as one of a Peak Lords, otherwise I would be healed by the end of the week and my pain begins anew,” Ming Fan shook his head. “I appreciate your concern, I really do, but no.”

“Aww, well since you’re being so polite about it…” Tianlang-jun sighed and sipped from the tea. “Mn- this is good. Where did you get it?”

“Shang-shishu taught me how to prepare lemon tea before the fruits go out of season, apparently there is a sweetened-cold version of this as well, but he has yet to refine the technicalities of the ingredients. I worry for him, he always seems so busy.”

“He looks like a rodent who accidentally ate a pepper, though I suppose in this case it would be a block of ice what with Mobei-jun being his lover and all.”

“I did wonder how that happened, and worried a brief time. An Ding Peak’s disciples had said that their master would occasionally come home bruised and barely able to walk, they were rearing to go to war with the Northern Demons far before everything else happened.” Ming Fan sighed, “Well, it isn’t any of my business. I’m sure they’re dealing with the situation in their own way.”

“True that, those An Ding Peak children…physically they are weak, but it is always the weaker ones that surprise you the most. Especially when angry,” Tianlang-jun smiled as he mused. “Afterall, hornets don’t seem like much at first glance. That Mobei-jun has his work cut out for him, ah, speaking of. What of those two? Surely the boy is tip-toeing these days.”

“He tends to keep to the bamboo house, and we tend to stay far away from the bamboo house, especially at night.” Ming Fan raised his hand to drink. “That is all I will say of the matter.”

Ming Fan sighed, rubbing a hand against his eyes, “I am getting far too old for this.”

“Oh please, you’re not even a century old.”

“Hm, and yet somehow I am still significantly more mature than you. Have you reached the regression stage of life Tianlang-jun? I must say, I’m rather peeved that it’s a mental deterioration rather than a physical one for you demons.”

“Hoh?” Tianlang-jun leaned forward, smirking. “Wish to test how youthful I can be Little Cultivator?”

Ming Fan raised a hand idly pointing at the silks of Tianlang-jun’s clothes, startling the heavenly demon as he wondered just what the other had found on his clothes.

Then Ming Fan flicked up, hitting the former Demon Lord up the lip and under the nose, causing Tianlang-jun to recoil, sputtering from the unjust attack. The audacity.

“I’m sure you’d at least warm the bed,” He deadpanned, sipping at his tea without a care as Tianlang-jun sputtered indignantly.

NMJ/MF - Original Re-meeting for ch 52; added here for my convenience (cus i don't wanna make another post)

“Gather everyone who can fight!” One voice called. “Sect Leader Nie is being surrounded by a pack of hell hounds! They need help.”

Ming Fan was out and running before anyone could even blink- with only Liu Qingge and Tianlang-jun holding enough time to react by following him.

-

“Shit-“ Mingjue cursed, swinging around Bàxià to hurl one attacking hound over to the side. “Meng Yao- you alright?!”

“Could use-” Meng Yao grimaced as he had to back off to avoid the snapping jaws of another hound. “Some help.”

“Reinforcements should be on the way!” Mei Lin cursed venomously under her breath. “Just where the hell did all these damned dogs come from?!”

“We’re being overrun!” Lang Fengyi yelped as he narrowly avoided claws.

“Fuck-“ Mingjue gathered his energy, willing it to fill him once more. “Get ready to run! I should be able to distract them long enough to-“

“Don’t worry about that.”

The disciples of Nie turned to find a man arrogantly walking through the field, the hounds yipping in fear and running from him, as well as another man clad in white and silver who eyed the hounds back.

Tianlang-jun stood before the disciples of Qinghe Nie with a bright smile, “Relax now, everything will be fine.”

Liu Qingge huffed, drawing his sword, “Says you. We have to make sure he’s not overworking himself remember?”

There was a distant rumbling- an ominous presence that washed over them to the point where all the hounds began to shudder and shake in fear as they too yipped around fearfully.

Descend with great speed. Swift and merciless. Run my enemies. Leave none left alive. May death greet you well.

Formation formed.

Ming Fan dropped his sword with militaristic precision, tilting all the swords generated by his power towards the ground in varying angles.

Heavenly Wrath Formation.

Tianlang-jun looked up in the surprise, “Don’t tell me that’s-“

“It is,” Liu Qingge scowled.

“Who-“ Nie Mingjue began- before all hell broke loose.

Liu Qingge’s expression was thunderous as he swept past rows of demonic hounds, tilting on hand and waiting-

Another man dropped from the sky not a second later, catching Liu Qingge’s robes and righting him before swinging his legs on the man’s waist to get around and jab another hound in the back- Tianlang-jun was swift to join the fray, allowing the shorter cultivator to move around him to get at all the lucky hounds who managed to move away from Ming Fan’s deadly aim fast enough.

While Tianlang-jun added to the deadly partnership with his own flare, it was the pair of Ming Fan and Liu Qingge that showed the obvious years of partnership between them- for the two had years of spars and night hunts to guide their blades where they need be.

Heads flew, limbs joining them as the immortals of Cang Qiong Sect and Tianlang-jun of the Heavenly Demon Line slaughtered the feared and the rowdy- leaving those of Qinghe Nie in awe.

“..Wei…” Meng Yao said, knees beginning to grow weak. “Wei Fan?!”

The man abruptly froze, glancing towards their direction before seeming to move on instinct- the War God sensing the sudden change and using his arm to propel him outward, allowing the man to fly across the air and land his sword true through the skull of the hell hound that was just about to take a chunk from Nie Mingjue’s side.

Ming Fan, not upset as he was, barked at them venomously, “Just what do you think you’re doing?! Fucking move! You’re in a battle field! Fight damn you! Are you not of Qinghe Nie?!”

“Teacher Wei!” Mei Lin cried- openly actually, crying.

“Oh for the love of-“ Ming Fan cursed. “I’ll take your crying and yelling and cursing later, lift your sabres and fight!”

“Xiao-Fan!”

Ming Fan turned, grunting as he launched his sword in the Heavenly Demon’s direction and skewering the hound. “What?!”

“Lower your blood pressure!”

Ming Fan felt his blood pressure rise out of sheer spite. “Fuck you!”

“A-Fan,” Liu Qingge growled. “You just performed one of the most powerful formations while silent. Calm down.”

“I can’t!” Ming Fan caught himself with a scowl. “But I’m not upset!”

“For the love of-“ Liu Qingge turned to Tianlang-jun. “Can you handle the rest?”

“Yeah I got it,” Tianlang-jun batted away a hound with his bare fist. “Just take care of our pissed off little horse first.”

Liu Qingge wasted no time, grabbing the now fuming Ming Fan, his nose beginning to trickle with a line of blood and generally causing the already shocked disciples of Qinghe Nie to panic.

“Hey,” Liu Qingge’s voice was soft as it was firm. “Calm down. Calm. That’s not a request.”

“I’m trying,” Ming Fan hissed. “You try doing this in the middle of battle.”

“Alright back up plan,” Liu Qingge turned to the still shocked Nie Mingjue. “You. Make yourself useful. He needs a distraction.”

“Wha-“

Liu Qingge shoved Ming Fan into Nie Mingjue, the taller man abruptly catching the man by the waist to steady him before something else caused him to loose balance.

Forgot one: Deleted Extra feat. Yang Yixuan + MF; written with it's og formatting since notes preserved my italics somehow

Cold wind swept past the ravine.

Shaking trees and rustling branches provided the background noise for the twittering creatures who lived in the back mountains. Within this quiet land was a surrounding of high elevation mountains spanning all around the mountain side.

There, Ming Fan sat quietly. Watching the creatures bellow- there were no humans for miles save for those few people within the Ancient Sect, and they were hardly just human anymore.

“So, you’ve finally decided to get off your ass.”

Ming Fan stiffened.

Yang Yixuan’s arms were cross across his breast, idly looking down from the view of Qing JIng Peak.

The landscape had changed much since Ming Fan had last come here, it was greener. With the trees far taller than when Ming Fan had last seen them, the older trees cut down by the ravages of war and time- but new ones taking their place. The silence too, was new. With no disciples Cang Qiong Mountain was a far quieter place than it had been during the height of its Sect Years. Some ascended, some peacefully settling into their next life, and some sticking around. Going to and fro the place carrying out errands and enacting a firm hand where the average Cultivator could not handle. The war had put a damper on such things, what with their stance of neutrality, bu it was no less somewhat of a sobering surprise that those of Cang Qiong Mountain had seen what was happening and judged it would be better to remain quiet.

He knew why of course, it was more practical in the long run for a mythical Sect, they were not here to force the future into their own hands- merely to counter the monsters of the yester years. Still. He wondered.

“You’re thinking so loud I could practically here it,” the former head disciple of Bai Zhan peak, the former Peak Lord himself, continued with a raised brow. “You’re normally quick to empty your mind and dump it onto others.”

Ming Fan scoffed softly, “Normal is a poor basis to use to pass judgement at the moment, even a Bai Zhan Peak buffoon like you should realize such.”

“…”

Ming Fan pursed his lip, anger simmering.

Settle.

Settle.

Settle.

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” He said softly, allowing his fist to slack from their death-like grip.

“You just lost your brohter,” Yang Yixuan said bluntly. “You were a raving asshole when Liu-shifu dragged you here. Pretty much spat at Luo Binghe’s feet and insulted just about everyone.”

Ming Fan restrained the urge to flinch at every word.

“I’d be more than a little troubled if you didn’t act like that after losing your brother.” Yang Yixuan continued with a shake of his head. “It’s good to know that our illustrous Ming Fan is still a human.”

“Have I not proven that time and time again?”

“Dunno,” Ming Fan turned his head, the Bai Zhan Peak’s former sole disciple’s voice turning uncharacteristically soft. “You were doing a pretty good impression of acting like an immortal before.”

#Scum Disciple's Adventures Into the Unknown World #SDAUW #BTS I guess #Are there actually behind the scenes for writing idk #I'll see if I have time to write one since I do have a lot of notes from when i planned this fic #and maybe some bits of the history referenced in SDAUW #MDZS x SVSSS Fanfic #One that is tbh really out there in terms of concept ngl lol #Scum Disciple BTS

[softomi]

Realistically

prompt: “Even though I knew you wouldn’t show up I still waited for you”

pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x f!reader

word count: 1.5k

He was a realist, that’s how Sakusa always described himself. There was no such thing as fate, perhaps coincidences were more probable. He didn’t believed people couldn’t just naturally be good at something, there needed to be practice and hard work put into everything.

Unlike his coworkers, friends if he had to stretch for another word, they were wishful thinkers. Reliant on pre-game rituals and head over heels on thoughts of impossibility such love at first sight.

“You can’t deny that you probably fell in love at first sight.” Bokuto tried to reason with him in the locker rooms.

It was like a game they liked to play with him, as if testing his ideals.

“I didn’t.” Sakusa would respond bluntly.

Like usual, the men in the locker room would pretend to gasp, as if they wouldn’t expect that answer from him.

“It must be hard to date you.” Atsumu amuses the group, “Nothing would satisfy him. Don’t know how your girlfriend does it.” There’s small laughter as Sakusa leaves the locker rooms.

While his other teammates would leave the locker room and straight to the left to exit towards the entrance, Sakusa takes a sharp right from the door; the hallway leads him back to the gym. The place empty and abandoned contrary to its original state just two hours ago, but there remains one lone figure standing in the middle of the court. Their back facing him, head peering to the bleachers above, he can imagine their astonished expression.

“What are you doing?”

You turn on your heels, the mask on you hides the smile that’s engraved in his head, “Just seeing how it looks from your point of view.” You turn back to the bleachers, your finger pointing at one of the high seats, “I sat just right there.”

“You actually sat?” Sakusa grimaces.

“Oh.” You let out a laugh, “I didn’t sit, I stood behind the seat.” You move to step towards the male, “Ready?” There’s a safe distance between the two of you as you exit the gym.

Sakusa would even say, that in his relationship with you, everything was realistic. It wasn’t like Bokuto’s relationship who showered his significant other with bouquet upon bouquet upon bouquet. Neither was he like Atsumu who enjoyed showering his flings with endless amounts of diamonds. Realistically, Sakusa thinks, relationships are just the comfortability of being together and realistically, he would believe you think so too.

But there were times when he noticed your shifting gazes, a mere envious smile when your friends talk about their spontaneous gifts from their lovers. And you look at him, with such loving affection that it almost makes him guilty.

“Flowers?” You quirk a brow at him when he emerges after his game, a small bouquet of lilies in his hands.

The gym is silent as you take the bouquet from him. Delicate, sweet in scent, beautiful; just like him. You admire the lilies, a sparkle in your eye, “What for?”

He’s nonchalant, waving a hand, “It’s only fair that I do this once in a while.”

You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. It was simply his way of saying ‘I love you’. You draw out one of the lilies, handing it to him, “It’s only fair that I do this once in a while too.”

Sakusa keeps the single lily you had given him in a frame tucked in the corner of his closet.

There was something about realistically that started to put a bad taste in his mouth. Because, he should have prepared himself for the realistic nature that you wouldn’t always be by his side.

It was like a bomb had dropped on him.

“I got accepted into a graduate program in Tokyo.” You had told him the day before one of his games. You wouldn’t see him until after his game, but you just had to tell him, you had to know what he thought before you made your decision on the night of his game, “Should I go?”

Should you go?

You looked at him with such eagerness and he couldn’t tell if you wanted him to tell you to stay with him. He told you he’s think about it, leaving out the door without another word.

And he thought about it long and hard. He thought out it as he spiked the ball with all his force, he thought about it as he showered in peace, he thought about it as walked the longest hallway to get to you.

“Of course, you should go.” He states, towering over you in the middle of the gym, “Realistically.” It paints his tongue with dirt, “you’ll only be half a day away.” He wants to pull you close, maybe if he stared long enough, you would see that he had thrown his realistic ideas away.

Your eyes light up, “Oh my gosh Omi.” You take a step back from him, excitedly jumping, “Are you sure?”

He didn’t want to be like one of those movies, the one where she has to choose between the love of her life or literally anything else in the world. It only made sense in a real-life context, that you would rather move forward in your life than stay and wait with him.

“Of course.” His encouragement is laced with bitterness.

“Omi!” You can’t contain the extra excitement as you leap into his arms. One of the rare times he actively catches you. You don’t notice the way he holds you just a little tighter, “But Omi.” You pull away, “I won’t be able to attend your games anymore.”

“It’s alright.” He keeps his hands on the small of your back, dipping his forehead to press against yours, “It’ll be aired anyways, you can watch then.” But it wouldn’t be the same without you there.

He was right. It wasn’t the same without you. His place was bare of you, he had hung up the frame of the lily which remained the only constant reminder of you. Missed connections, late night texts, video calls at dawn. For a half day away, it felt like opposite ends of the world.

‘I’m sorry Omi, I have to submit this draft on Friday, so I won’t be able to talk much.’

It was the last thing you sent him in a while.

If anything made it worse, it was when he left the locker rooms. It was the long, excruciating hallway as he turned right. The empty gym, the sound of silence piercing him; he’d wait there, sometimes for five minutes, on others maybe thirty minutes. As if, by some godly chance, you’d walk through the door and tease him for actually waiting. Sheepishly, he misses you.

“Hey.” You were rushed as he spontaneously called you. Usually, he’d tell you when he’d call you, “What’s up?” You tried to sound less stressed on the phone with him.

He hums for a second, “What are you doing?”

“I’m actually heading to my apartment right now. Lots and lots of research articles to read.” You mock a laugh, “It’s so much fun!”

Sakusa laughs with you, “I miss you.”

A smile crept on your lips, “You couldn’t have waited another month to say it. Now I owe Atsumu some money.” A sigh is emitted from his end, “I’ll have to admit, I’m glad it only took what, six months.”

“Where are you now?”

You push open the doors to your building, “About to take the elevators.”

“Take the stairs.” Sakusa pauses, “It’s better for you.”

“Just admit you want to talk to me longer.” You follow his command, opting for the stairs over the elevators.

“You sound out of breath already. You really don’t know how to take care of your body.”

You pause in the middle of the stairs, huffing and puffing, “I hate you so much.” Still, laughter leaves your lips, “I watched your last game, I’m glad you guys won.” You’re slowly starting back up the stairs, “You have a game today right?”

“No, I don’t.”

You frown, taking the phone away from your ear to look at the date, “No, I’m pretty sure you guys are playing today.” You reach your floor level, “Your mom was talking about it.”

“You were with my mom?”

You were resting yourself at the top of the stairs, “Yeah, we had lunch together today.” You pause, “So why are trying to tell me that you aren’t playing today?”

The door to the stairs open, your eyes are met the deep colors of his, “Because I’m not.”

In tears, you bawl in front of him, “What are you doing here?” You sob.

Sakusa is rubbing your hands with hand sanitizer. He uses his own handkerchief to wipe your tears, and he then he lets you fall into his arms, “I told you I missed you.”

“Your game?”

He runs a hand through your hair, “I missed you more.”

Extra:

“You’re so cheesy today.” He’s kept you close since his surprise visit, your back is presses against his chest as you two sit on the couch, “You know, realistically, you should be playing at the game right now.”

Sakusa’s eyes are glued onto the volleyball game displayed on the screen, “You know realistically, I would have bathed you in hand sanitizer before I let you cry on my clothes.”

You slap his chest, “You’re so mean!” You attempt to run away from him, only he’s quick to grab you by the wrist, pulling you back into him.

“Realistically.” His nose brushes against yours, “I love you.”

#sakusa imagines #sakusa x reader #haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x y/n #sakusa #haikyuu

[therealvinelle]

Maybe this is bold of me to ask, but are there any deleted scenes from your fics, or scenes you had consideted writing but didn't? And if yes, would you be willing to share them someday?

Oh no problem!

Usually when a scene is deleted it stays deleted, so I don't have a lot to give you. There are a few things that were cut in betaing for various reasons, I can put a few of them below a readmore in this post.

There's the prologue that never was to Nebuchadnezzar's Dream, from back when the fic was supposed to be told alternately from Bella and Carlisle's respective points of view. In the prologue we saw how Bella, Alice, and Edward came to the point where they decided to overthrow the Volturi. Or, we would have, except I didn't actually like that prologue, and found myself jumping straight to writing chapter 2, the "Carlisle is at a party and gets attacked by a werewolf" chapter instead. My good beta @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin asked why I didn't simply make the whole fic from Carlisle's point of view, I realized she had an excellent point, now here we are.

For that matter, this is nowhere near the only significant change that happened to this fic during writing. One example, in the original outline I never brought up Carlisle's gift. Two significant things in the last chapter were not planned until after I published chapters twelve and thirteen, respectively (Luckily for me it'll look like I plotted them all along, so yay for that). For a tightly plotted fic, this one has had a lot of leeway.

Slight caveat, as I’m self-conscious: with most of these you will probably be able to tell why they’re deleted scenes. Especially the prologue. God, that prologue.

(Also, for the record yes I do write other things, but due to 1. being betaed, and 2. being long, I really only have examples for Nebuchadnezzar's Dream.)

The prologue that never was. Apologies for the fluff saturation:

The Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar II once had a dream.

There was a statue that was gold on top, then silver, then copper, then iron, then clay and iron. As he watched, a rock struck its feet, and soon the whole statue crumbled, leaving nothing but rubble. The rock then grew into a great mountain that covered all the world.

This, the prophet Daniel told the king, was a message from Jehovah.

The statue represented five great human empires, the golden head being the Babylonian Empire, and the following three being those who would come after. The last would be both iron and clay, a divided kingdom. It will fall, and then the kingdom of Heaven will come, crushing those empires in its path.

Thousands of years later, in 1453, the Byzantine Empire fell. The last of the Roman Empire, a divided kingdom, had fallen.

The Christian world trembled, because reckoning was surely near. With the fall of this last, great human empire, all the world would fall to rubble.

-

Fifteen years had passed.

The Cullens had left Forks behind, settling in the small town of Grafton, Idaho. Carlisle had quickly settled into the new hospital, and Esme had designed a beautiful new home for them while the rest attended the new school. Jasper and Rosalie were Carlisle’s younger siblings while Bella, Edward, Renesmée and Esme comprised another set of siblings. Alice and Emmett were the fosters.

Jacob wasn’t far, he still lived with his old .

«Did you hear they all scored an A on Mr Rosen’s test? Seriously, all of them!»

The words were uttered by Jenna Gilbert, a blonde sophomore who reminded Bella very much of Jessica Stanley. She was sitting on the opposite end of the cafeteria from Bella and her family, though

«Jen, it’s the Cullens, that’s just what they do. You should stop comparing yourself…» her friend said soothingly.

Bella ducked her face into her hand to hide her smile, and winked at Alice, who grinned back at her.

It was Bella and Renesmée’s first time going to high school as a vampire. It was exactly what Edward and Alice had said it would be, for better and for worse.

For the worse, because she spent her days pretending to be a human girl, never using her strength or speed, pretending Edward wasn’t her husband and Renesmée wasn’t her daughter.

For the better, because she got to spend every day with Edward, Renesmée, and the rest of her new family. The others had done the high school routine too many times to see things the way she did, and Renesmée had never known a life without the Cullens, but to Bella, attending high school as one of Dr. Cullen’s adoptive kids felt like she had truly come full circle since that first day she spotted Edward in the cafeteria. She was one of them, truly, irrevocably, and high school was nothing if not a promise of the countless years to come surrounded by the people she loved.

Edward caught her eye, and she smiled back at him. She lowered her shield briefly to show him how happy she was to be with her family.

His face softened into that beautiful, lop-sided smile of his, and he leaned in to whisper into her ear, «You’ll be less happy when you’ve been through English 101,» he said.

«Hey, hey,» Jasper said quickly. «Don’t you dare, Edward, I need all the happiness I can get in this place.» He locked eyes with Bella. «Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.»

Bella laughed, and rested her head on Edward’s shoulder. He placed his hand above hers on the table, and she smiled. «Not a problem, Jazz.»

Jenna’s voice caught her notice again. «Look at how they’re sitting! Try and tell me they’re not incestuous, Cam. Just try.»

Her friend didn’t reply to that one, although a quick glance informed Bella that the girl was staring at the Cullen table with a frown on her face.

Bella and Alice caught each others’ eye again, and this time they couldn’t hold back the giggles.

***********

Later in the day, Alice’s eyes lit up. «You’ll receive a letter from Stefan and Vladimir a week from now,» she chirped.

«Oh!» Bella exclaimed. «What does it say?»

«The usual,» Alice replied, her eyes slightly distant as she concentrated. «They hope we’re all doing well, and they included a new story of how things used to be before the Volturi. It’s the story of how they once built an entire temple for themselves in just one day. Oh, and they have a new phone number. O-seven nine six five nine six.»

Bella’s eyes widened as Alice talked. She hoped they had included drawings of that temple, it sounded incredible.

Bella hadn’t expected the Romanians to stay in touch, when they left after the thwarted battle with the Volturi she thought they would slink back into the old European shadows they had cloaked themselves in for that past several thousand few years, not to be heard from until some new threat to the Volturi loomed.

But no, that very next Christmas Bella had received a gift from them. It was an old, if flaked painting of Ivan the Terrible looking a lot like Vladimir, and a note from Vladimir explaining how he fooled all of Russia into believing he was their ruler for decades, all right beneath Aro’s nose. Carlisle had broken into a fit of uncharacteristic giggles when he heard that, and even agreed to put the painting in the hallway. To this day, he’d huff with silent laughter whenever he walked past it.

After that, Bella and the two Romanians had been in touch. They’d send her gifts, stories, and their own observations about the Volturi, and she’d respond fondly.

It was a very unlikely friendship, but she was was eternally grateful to all those who had stood with her family when the Volturi came. The Romanians were no exception,

«Are you going to call them?» Alice inquired.

Bella nodded. «They were going to tell me about their visit to Thebes.»

(Outline: Prologue of sorts. Status quo update, everyone’s happy except for the part where the Volturi are waiting to kill them. Alice, Bella, and Edward form their plan. Alice sees that she’s going to have to send Carlisle away, and coincidentally his hospital colleagues are having their Christmas weekend in Montana. PERFECT. She talks to him.)

***********

Heavily altered scene from chapter 7

Carlisle makes more jokes than he did in the final product, they're unfunny to the point where my beta said "you can't publish this", the plague joke in particular is a bit too dark for him so I gave it to Jane instead. More importantly, the chapter itself has a very weird, clunky start:

«Is it the gift of being profoundly unimpressed by ridiculous claims?» Carlisle deadpanned. «Because if so, Aro, I think you might be on to something.»

Several seconds had passed since Aro made his ridiculous claim. At first, Carlisle had burst out laughing. Then, as he realized he was the only person in the room laughing and Aro was staring at him in full seriousness, his laughter had trailed off and he’d been left to stare dully at Aro for several long seconds, waiting for Aro to crack up and say «gotcha!».

Aro never cracked up.

Carlisle had absolutely no idea what Aro was playing at, especially not immediately after Carlisle had very reluctantly decided against shutting him out of his life.

«You can’t be serious,» he’d said.

Aro had sighed. «I’m afraid I am.»

And now, at Carlisle’s deadpan guess, Aro only shook his head. «Not quite.»

Carlisle stared at him for another second, before he ventured another, scathing guess. «Are you hoping it’s the power of being highly suggestible? Because I definitely don’t have that, or I would have abandoned my diet centuries centuries ago.»

Aro just looked at him. «If you would let me explain-» he began, but Carlisle cut him off.

«No, no, you want to try and convince me I have some sort of gift, then I want to guess at what you’re going for,» he said, crossing his legs at the knee and propping his chin up on his knuckle in a faux-pensive look.

«Now,» he continued, even as Aro gave him the world’s most unimpressed glare, as if Carlisle was the one who was being ridiculous, «I’m pretty sure I would have noticed the power to throw fireballs by now, so it can’t be that,» he mused aloud. «Same goes for the power of…» he searched his mind, «turning into a bat. That one would definitely have come up at some point. Or maybe I should suspend myself upside down in a cave. See if it triggers anything. Just to be sure.»

«Carlisle,» Aro murmured, but Carlisle wasn’t done.

«Maybe I spread disease. My father certainly thought demons did. Maybe that’s why I get so many interesting patients. Those brain fungi,» he nodded towards Renata, who was still sitting with the book open in her lap, «I’ve had two in one year. That’s a lot.»

«Carlisle-» Aro tried again, but Carlisle held up a finger, a wide grin spreading across his face.

«The power to change my eye color. You see, yesterday they were black-»

Aro actually rolled his eyes at that. Of course, he made the insolent gesture look like a fluid, enchanting movement.

«Yes, quite funny, now if you would let me explain…» Aro tried again while Carlisle tried not to snicker at his own joke.

***********

Two deleted paragraphs from chapter 9. The alteration was made because it was a bit on the nose about what Renesmée does.

Humans were mammals, and mammals were hardwired to protect their young. This extended across species, making mother cats care for puppies and humans care for anything that was small and cute. The instinct to love and cherish anything cute and helpless was an evolutionary necessity, and had to run deeper than anything if a species wanted to survive.

Enter Jane, who was the smallest, cutest thing Carlisle had ever seen, but from a species humans instinctively knew to fear. Maybe the very fact that she was something that humans knew they should want to care for made their fear exponential, made it impossible to deny that something was very wrong about her, that they were looking at a predator.

Perhaps too there was something to vampires having retained some of that human instinct to protect their young, if the countless stories of covens dying to protect their immortal children was anything to go by. Carlisle himself had been no exception when the Volturi came for Renesmée, even as he found himself risking the lives of countless friends.

How far things had come, he thought, from preparing to die along with his loved ones at the hands of the Volturi to sitting across a café table with Jane and pitching costume ideas.

***********

Chapter 9 was heavily altered, mainly as it was too funny the first (and second!) time around and I kept having to return to insert more existential dread. A side effect of this is that Carlisle in the original draft was still undecided on whether he had a gift up until the very end of the chapter, whereas it's proven beyond a doubt much earlier in the published version.

Jane was looking a bit daunted, though it was nothing compared to how Carlisle felt.

Silently, they went to stand in front of one of the many sports stores that Whitefish had to offer.

«This could still be confirmation bias,» Carlisle whispered, and leaned against the wall. For all the human blood that was in his system, his knees felt oddly weak.

Jane let out a startled laugh. «You’re seriously still in denial?»

Carlisle shook his head quietly. «They reacted pretty reasonably, just because they didn’t run away screaming…»

«Reasonably?» Jane echoed dully. «Carlisle, you can’t actually…» she shook her head. «Remember that bubble we talked about?»

Carlisle put his head in his hands, and let his fingers move up, under the wig, pulling it off in one neat motion.

Jane shook her head at him. «You look even more glamorous with your real hair.»

Carlisle still said nothing, balling the wig together in his hands.

Could it be he actually had a gift?

***********

The chapter 11 outline originally had Renata and Carlisle failing to communicate like normal people because they've spent too much time with Aro, and unintentional innuendo keeps ruining their attempts to make polite small talk. Sadly (or happily) this is a lot easier to conceptualize than carry out in actual writing, and their conversation wound up being far too serious for that, so it was cut. Luckily for you I did pen Carlisle flashbacking to a time his foot got in his mouth:

The moment after the words were out her face scrunched up.

Carlisle snorted. «Aro is a horrible influence on us all.»

He remembered one of his first talks with Jasper, when they were still getting to know each other.

Jasper had been a little starstruck when he learned Carlisle’s friends in Italy were those Italians.

He’d asked Carlisle a lot of questions once he got past a misplaced sense of awe, wanting to put a face to the eternal, petrified, leaders of the vampire world.

During a hunt with just the two of them, Jasper had been asking about Aro’s gift.

«What do you even think about when you’re with him?» Jasper had marvelled aloud, and he would later explain that the way he say it, this was like the way the Egyptian gods supposedly measured souls.

Place your heart upon the balancing scale against the weight of a feather, and if your heart weighs heavier it is devoured by the demon Ammit.

Place your hand in Aro’s, and if he deems you guilty of breaking his law, you will be torn to pieces in the space of a second.

Being friends with the man sounded unbearably stressful to Jasper.

Unfortunately, Carlisle’s mind had gone in the opposite direction, and what came out of his mouth before he could stop himself was, «England.»

He’d covered well enough for that, or he hoped he had. Jasper never asked.

***********

Chapter 11 was also supposed to have Renata being brave enough to ask for a selfie with Carlisle when they're both in black robes, this because I just really want Edward to sift through the Volturi group chat after all this and finding that. Alas, I couldn't work it in there. (Determined to not lose the joke, I had Aro take the photos in chapter 12 instead.)

***********

Chapter 12, the fandom ghost requested I include another butt slap and offered me fanart if I fulfilled her wish.

And so:

He held up a hand, presumably to touch Carlisle’s arm in comfort, but just then Alec started retching.

«He ate human food,» Jane deadpanned to Demetri, Felix, and Renata. Shaking her head, she brushed Alec’s hair out of his face as he hurled into the river.

Aro grimaced slightly, his hand hovering in the air.

Carlisle felt all the bread, corn flakes, and water that he’d swallowed press uncomfortably against his esophagus. «I’ll do you one better, Alec,» he choked, before he span around, fell to his knees and started retching, much like a cat.

Aro, evidently not sure what to do with his arm but not about to let it drop purposelessly, gave Carlisle a supportive pat on the bum before kneeling beside him to hold his hair as he hurled.

It was funny, but simply didn't fit the tone considering what happened after. It had to go. But hey, I got the art.

#there's more but these are the things that came to mind #my fic #nebuchadnezzar's dream #fic spoilers #of sorts kinda #doktrajediscovery

[asherlockstudy]

Tap the nose

I was watching the first Pirates of the Caribbean the other day for the millionth time. There is a scene where the pirate duo Pintel and Ragetti storm in Elizabeth Swan’s house. Elizabeth hides inside a closet and the pirates are searching the room, knowing she must be hiding somewhere in there. Pintel demands that she comes out and promises they won’t hurt her while he rolls his eyes at Ragetti. Ragetti muffles a laugh and taps or rubs his nose in a signal.

After being initially startled, Ragetti understood Pintel’s meaningful look. He looks mischievous and secretive and he taps or draws his finger on his nose. It is a secret. Between them. They are going to attack Elizabeth but they will catch her off guard.

This was the first time I realised I have seen a similar gesture before and perhaps there is an ongoing symbolism that is associated with it. In the context of the POTC movie, it can mean only two things:

Oh we are lying to her

Oh we are keeping our true intentions a secret

Exactly because of the scene’s context the gesture means they are lying to her by keeping a critical secret from her.

But was this gesture created for the movie? No.

Yesterday I made the connection that the gesture is strikingly similar to the one Rhett repeated many times during their second Lie Detector Test.

Rhett tapped his nose on two separate occasions. The first one was when Link asked him whether he thinks they are authentic on GMM. Rhett answers a simple “yes” and then pointedly asks for the next question while he clearly draws his finger on his nose.

This is more like a draw. Regrettably to Rhett, Link draws the attention to the gesture and asks whether it meant he was lying. Rhett repeats the gesture many times, now clearly a tap, and claims its their signaling system that they established when they were children. He never answers what it means and then Link asks if there is something on his nose, in a weak attempt to help Rhett change his answer but they both miserably fail in this one. Rhett doesn't get Link's intention and thinks Link has forgotten. "This and this. You know what that means", he says and repeats the move one last time.

He probably adds a jaw touch in the end which I don't know what it could mean but his expressive face this time makes me lean on the probability that the gesture meant some sort of warning like "ALERT! stop talking". In the context of the video, perhaps Rhett has thoughts about their authenticity in the show. The detector didn't detect any lie there but maybe Rhett didn't agree with a question like that, which could easily expose him not believing they are authentic on the show. And lie detectors are not reliable anyway.

Rhett won't find peace in this video. His discomfort intensifies when Link asks him whether he thinks of him as a silver fox. There is a ton I could write about this moment but let's stick to the gesture, that makes another appearance.

The nose tap can't mean a yes or no. If it meant "yes", Rhett would not have used it after the "authenticity yes" because it would be pointless. On the other hand if it meant "no", he could straight up say he doesn't consider Link a silver fox and save himself from the uneasiness.

So we return to the recurring possibilities of "I'm lying", "this is meant to be a secret" and "Warning!" . Unlike the authenticity case, here the "I'm lying" option doesn't make much sense. I'm lying because I think you are entirely unattractive? Doesn't make sense for a comedian to hide that. I'm lying because I think you are HUGELY attractive? This could be the one, but still signaling this as a lie seems a bit excessive to me.

So, in this second case, "this is a secret, watch out" seems to be the best contender for me. After all why Link would ignore him and insist "just say it, just say it"?

So we have three instances (including the POTC one) where it seems this nose tap indicates that something is a secret and must not be revealed. If Ragetti uses a similar gesture, then Rhett and Link didn't make up their signaling system on their own but they were inspired by something. I did some research.

Where to begin with this? Everything except for the last fits. This is a secret. Don't bring it up. Watch out! This is dangerous. This is only between us.

In short, the gesture means that something is a secret that would be dangerous if revealed. More insight for the origins of the gesture can be read in this tumblr post. The gesture is likely Italian and it's interesting that Ragetti has an Italian sounding name.

Which means Rhett felt a lot was at stake if they revealed two things that are apparently true, 1) that they are not authentic on GMM and 2) that he thinks Link is very attractive and Link knows it.

In truth, I had landed on this conclusion as the only possible one before making all these connections and I doubt I am the only one. But when there's backup it's more justifiable to make a post.

#rhink #rhett and link #randl #lie detector test #rhett mclaughlin #link neal #potc #pirates of the caribbean #gestures #mythical

[4kominato]

Part I: The Older Brothers 

Part II: The Younger Brothers

A/N: Hi friends... first of all... if you thought this blog was SFW i apologize, it’s not 😃 im very much a hoe. Second, yes, I’ve been mostly posting drawings, but I also enjoy writing so I’ll be posting these kinds of reactions and scenarios every now and then, mostly for Obey Me and probably Daiya. I’m not taking requests as of now but eventually, I might so stay tuned! I was originally gonna post all together, but it was getting kinda long ;) and also I was just too excited to post after I finished Satan’s LMAO. I finished Belphie but still working on Asmo and Beel so I’ll be posting the younger bros later ^-^

DESCRIPTION: Female MC making the brothers hard for the first time. Assume MC x Demon are in a fairly new relationship. [[NSFW below]]

(Word Count: 511)

It’d been roughly two months since you’d first confessed to the eldest of the demon brothers, Lucifer. The two of you have since, become official, and Lucifer made it very clear to his brothers that you were now his. Considering it was still pretty early in your relationship though, the two of you hadn’t been too intimate yet, but having already been a few months, you felt that it was time for that to change.

The other week, there was a huge sale on Akuzon and you happened to stumble across a good deal on a cute lingerie set. Unable to shake the thought that it’d be a good way to test the waters with your new boyfriend, you went ahead and bought it.

“What brings you here?” Lucifer answered the door shortly after you knocked.

“Can I sleep here tonight? There was a bug in my room,” you lied, looking up at him innocently.

“Oh?” he chuckled, raising an eyebrow at you, “Shall I go and kill it for you?”

“I mean… I’m already here so there’s no need. Plus I have no idea where it went, it probably crawled somewhere,” you reasoned as you pushed past him and welcomed yourself into his room.

“Well, alright then,” he finally agreed as he shut the door, “And where exactly do you plan to sleep?”

“Um, in your bed… with you,” you smiled pleadingly, hoping he wouldn’t put up too much of a fight.

“And who gave you permission to do that?”

“Hmm… me?”

“I see you’re being bold,” he smirked, stroking his fingers through your hair, “I guess since you’re my girlfriend now, I can’t say no to that suggestion.”

“Yay! I love you,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I love you, too,” he grinned before leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours.

“Hey, Luci,” you mumbled into the kiss.

“Hm?” he hummed softly in response.

“Can I show you something?”

“Of course.”

Pulling away from him, you took a step back before beginning to unbutton your shirt. About two buttons down, you were stopped by a hand gripping your wrist and you were met with a slightly flushed, wide-eyed Lucifer.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked awkwardly whilst trying to still sound stern.

“Showing you the ‘something’ that you agreed I could show you. Do you disagree now?”

“Uh well, not exactly...”

“Don’t worry, we’re not gonna do anything. This is just an exhibition,” you teased as you proceeded against the force on your wrist to finish unbuttoning your shirt.

He gulped as you slid the garment off your shoulders and let it fall to the ground, his cheeks turning an even brighter shade of red as he drank in the sight of your lace adorned breasts. Smirking to yourself, you reapproached him and slung your arms around his neck, your thigh rubbing up against the bulge forming in his pants.

“Excited are we? I haven’t even shown you the bottom half yet.”

“It’s been a few hundred years, alright… give me a break…”

(Word Count: 500)

Classes at RAD were finally finishing up, and what better way to celebrate than a pool party? Diavolo had planned it, of course, inviting all the demon brothers, the other exchange students, and even their friends from the Celestial Realm.

Over the course of the semester, you took a particular liking to Mammon, and despite him denying it for the longest time, about a week before finals, he finally admitted that he liked you too. You were both looking forward to spending more time together at the pool party and having a good time now that you finally didn’t have to worry about school.

Arriving at the pool, you were immediately met with Diavolo who greeted you and welcomed you to the gathering. You saw that mostly everyone had arrived already and you were probably the last. It didn’t take you too long to spot Mammon’s silver hair and tan skin in the crowd so without hesitation, you started making your way over to him.

“Hi Mammon,” you said shyly, interrupting his conversation with his brothers.

“He- WHOA!” he exclaimed as he turned to look at you, his eyes wide as ever seeing you in your bikini. “Uh… hey guys, excuse me for a sec, would ya?” he said nonchalantly as he stood up and quickly dragged you away to the nearest room he could find.

“Oi! What do ya think you're wearing?!” he blurted pinning you to the door, “Or like… why aren’t you wearing more?”

“It’s a bikini, Mammon, because this is y’know, a pool party…?” you mocked, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

“Grr… pool party my butt, you can’t be goin’ out there in front of all those guys wearin’ that. Especially not around Asmo, he might get all touchy, grabby y'know.”

“What about you? I’m sure you want some touchy, grabby action right now don’t you?” you teased, knowing he was just being jealous and possessive.

“Me?! No way, I ain’t nothing like Asmo, I can definitely control myself around a human.”

“Oh? But I think that predicament in your trunks say otherwise.”

“Oi! W-why’re you lookin’ down there?” he blushed, finally letting go of his grip on you as he turned his body away.

“I was just taking a peak at your body… and then my eyes kinda just… slipped,” you feigned innocence as you walked up to him, your hands stroking over his toned abs as you quickly went in for a kiss.

“You better not tell the others about this…” he said shyly, finally giving in and wrapping his arms around you, his hands going straight to your ass.

“I mean… they probably already have their suspicions considering you dragged me away… alone…”

“WHAT?!”

“Shh! Calm down, babe… if we're already here, we might as well make good use of the situation, right? I know you want to.”

“Uh… I mean… I suppose… but only because we’re already here…” he agreed shyly, his cheeks still flushed as he avoided eye contact with you.

(Word Count: 513)

“Levi…” you whined as you laid sprawled out on his bed, “When are you gonna be done with that game?”

“Hold on… I’m almost done…” he replied, his attention still fixed on his screen.

“That’s what you said thirty minutes ago!?”

“No, I’m serious this time.”

“Ugh…”

Growing impatient, you peeled yourself off his bed and made your way towards him, sitting down right next to him on the sofa, as close as you possibly could. Leaning against him, you turned to look at him, intently gazing at him as he continued to play his game.

“Levi, why are you ignoring me?” you whispered into his ear before pressing soft kisses along his neck, wrapping  your arms around one of his and hugging it close to your body.

“I-I’m not… I’m just trying to finish this up really quick...” he stuttered, still trying his best to concentrate on his game, but now that you were all over him and distracting him, he was failing miserably.

“You are though…” you pouted at him, leaning your head against his when he refused to look at you.

As hard as he tried to ignore it, on top of you leaning on him, he couldn’t help but notice the feeling of your boobs pressing against his arm. It was embarrassing for him  to admit it, but in all honesty he had thought of you in ‘that way’ many times before, but never while you were around. After all, you were his girlfriend so he couldn’t really help it, but he didn’t wanna be making advances if you weren’t on the same page as him.

“Babe… are you okay?” you giggled, noticing his face was now as red as a tomato.

“Yeah! I’m perfectly fine!” he lied, biting his lip as he struggled to retain his focus.

You hadn’t really noticed how badly he was doing in his game until suddenly, the words ‘Game Over’ appeared in huge letters on the screen.

“Gah!” he exclaimed as he let his console fall to the ground, his hands immediately going up to cover his face as he threw his head back, “Dammit…”

As your eyes went down from the game console on the ground, then back up to Levi, you were suddenly stopped in your tracks by a noticeable tent in his pants. You could feel your face flush a little at the realization that you must’ve been the cause, but to say it wasn’t a little flattering would’ve been a lie.

“Levi…?” you started, a playful tone in your voice as an uncontrollable smirk spread across your lips. You knew it would embarrass him to point it out, but could you really pass up the opportunity to have a little fun with him? “Could this be why you lost your game?” you giggled as you gently poked at his bulge.

“EEK!” he squealed as he scrambled to find something to cover himself, avoiding eye contact with you once he did, “I-it was all your fault…”

“Oh was it? I’m sorry, Levi… want me to fix it?”

“F-fix it...??!”

“Mhm.”

*nose bleed, hyperventilates, dies*

(Word Count: 508)

“Satan,” you called softly, finding him sitting on one of the sofas in the library reading a book.

“Oh, hi,” he greeted with a smile, gesturing for you to sit with him, “How’d you know I was here?”

“Where else? We don’t have classes right now, but you weren’t in your room… I figured you must have your nose in a book though, and what’s the one place full of books besides your room?”

“Ah, I see. So you’re good at logical reasoning.”

“Of course, I learned from the best!” you smiled, nudging him suggestively. “Watcha reading anyways?” you asked before resting your head on his shoulder.

“Just a book about humans… it’s possible that a certain human may have sparked a deeper interest in my knowledge of them…”

“A certain human you say?! Are you talking about… Solomon?”

“Are you really making me state the obvious?” he whined as he shook his head at you.

“Alright fine, I won’t,” you giggled before pressing a kiss to his cheek, “By the end of that book, you’ll probably know more about humans than me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well… I was never really a good student...”

“Really? You seem to be doing well in your classes here.”

“Maybe that’s because... I’ve taken a liking to demons.”

“Is that so?” Satan chuckled, putting his book down for a moment to flirt back with you.

“Mhm… or maybe a certain demon,” you smirked as you pressed your lips against his. He didn’t let the kiss last long, smiling at you lovingly as he pulled away and holding his book back up to his face, “Are you gonna let me finish reading now?”

“Hmm… we’ll see…” 

Shifting yourself slightly away from him, you positioned yourself in a way that you could rest your head in his lap. Once you’d made yourself comfortable, you looked up at him, finding that he was already looking at you, his cheeks flushing as he awkwardly broke eye contact with you and reverted his focus back to the book. You giggled at how embarrassed you were making him, continuing to gaze up at him while he read.

“Stop staring at me…” Satan stated as he shifted slightly in his seat.

“I can’t stare at my boyfriend?”

“You’re distracting me.”

“I didn’t necessarily agree to letting you finish your reading.”

“Ergh…” he growled in frustration, thinking he should just try harder to ignore you.

“By the way, your lap is becoming oddly uncomfortable,” you teased, feeling his stiffening bulge pressing up against the back of your head as you continuously squirmed around in his lap.

“Maybe you should stop moving around so much then…”

“Maybe you should stop reading.”

“Maybe you’re right,” he finally complied, quickly shutting his book and placing it on the small table in front of him, “I suppose the best way to learn about humans is from the humans themselves.”

“Are you suggesting… Solomon should give you a lesson about humans?”

“At this rate, I’ll be giving you a lesson about demons instead.”

#sorry if its shitty #this is my first scenario thing for om #im trying my best ok #obey me! #obey me! shall we date? #obey me! reaction #obey me! smut #obey me! lucifer #obey me! mammon #obey me! leviathan #obey me! satan #lucifer smut #mammon smut #leviathan smut #satan smut

[hoseas-angry-ghost]

YES YES YES I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR UR THEORIES

Hello anon! I am very surprised anyone wants to hear my chutney but here's my Strange Man Hot Take with some hopefully interesting info for curious parties:

To be honest, R* included so much misdirection around the Strange Man's identity (especially in RDR1) that I'm not *totally* convinced they're married to any one idea. RDR2 also complicated things by introducing new religions into Red Dead's world (Voodoo, Old Norse, etc.): he's no longer limited to just Christian / Western interpretations, as in RDR1, and it's possible R* might try to syncretise him with figures from other faiths (they did place Bayall Edge in Bayou Nwa, where most of the Voodoo stuff is).

At the same time, though, I think RDR2 actually narrowed things down somewhat in terms of the direction R* chose to take his character, and what we were shown of that. There's still a level of misdirection in RDR2, but IMO, it almost comes off as half-hearted in comparison to what was basically trolling in RDR1 -- it seems like they were a lot more focused on playing the "bad news" angle the second time round.

Based on what we know, and on the balance of things, I'm not convinced that the Strange Man is necessarily meant to be any one thing or figure, but I do think he's meant to fulfil some type of Satanic role within Red Dead's world, either in main or in part.

I won't compare and dissect other theories or anything, I just thought I'd list off some things that people might find interesting:

Armadillo. The deal between the Strange Man and Herbert Moon seems to be a pretty textbook Faustian bargain: Moon is offered earthly rewards ("happiness or two generations"), and although the price was (tellingly?) never specified, it seems like the recent Blood Money update for RDO all but confirmed that the cost was probably his soul. Although it's left ambiguous what Moon actually chose, the Armadillo curse was possibly an unforeseen (for Moon) consequence of the deal's terms, which would fit with similar tales of the devil or demon in question taking liberties with their end of the bargain.

In the files, there's some great audio of Moon off the shits and straight-up saying "I've made a deal with the devil, and I will never truly die!" It's possible this was cut for its own reasons (too overt?), but as a lot of stuff was apparently cut from Armadillo, I'm guessing it was either cut when Arthur in New Austin got cut, or it was part of something that R* didn't have time to implement in the epilogue. Either way, if it's not actually in the game then it's not technically canon, but it is an indication of what R* was thinking during development.

There's a lot of audio from the Armadillo townsfolk in general about devils and "devil curses," but the only thing I know of that definitely made it into the game is a line from the town crier ("Devil has the town in his hand").

There's audio of the Armadillo bartender saying "I heard the Tillworths made a deal with the devil to keep from gettin' sick! I don't wanna die any more than the next man, but ain't no safety worth a man's soul." Possibly idle gossip, but given Moon, possibly not.

RDO seemed to flirt with the idea of soul-selling a little bit with Old Man Jones' line "Well, this is America, so anything can be bought -- even souls," but then RDO pretty much just came right out and said it with Bluewater John in the Blood Money update. Bluewater John also apparently made a deal, almost definitely with the Strange Man (given the Moon deal and how close Bayall Edge is to all the drama); he was based on blues musician Robert Johnson and the myth that he sold his soul to the devil for mastery of the guitar. It's basically a rehash of the Moon deal, except it's... not subtle in its dialogue about deals, devils and souls.

"I GAVE EVERYTHING FOR ART, AND I LEARNED TOO MUCH AND NOTHING AT ALL" written on the wall at Bayall Edge also sounds like a reference to another one of these deals to me ("everything" being their soul, and "I learned too much and nothing at all" the foolishness of accepting eternal damnation for temporary knowledge). I think Bayall Edge might have originally belonged to a painter who struck a deal with the Strange Man for artistic skill, but then the Strange Man slowly possessed him or something -- which could be why some of the landscapes depict RDR1's I Know You locations, and why the writings on the wall kind of look like they deteriorate in quality. The puddle of blood at the foot of the portrait might also be linked to this somehow (whose is it?).

It's the deal-making for souls that really pushed the "devil" theory over the edge for me, because I can't think of whose wheelhouse that would be in except a devil's, or someone similarly malevolent.

Alternative name. The Strange Man's character model is called cs_mysteriousstranger in RDR2, and he's referred to as "the mysterious stranger" at least once in RDR1's in-game text. This could be a reference to The Mysterious Stranger, written by Mark Twain between 1897-1908, in which the stranger is a supernatural being called Satan. (At the end of the last version written, he tells the protagonist that nothing really exists and their lives are just a dream.)

Bayall Edge. Bayall Edge was possibly based on a Louisiana urban myth called the Devil's Toy Box, which is "described as a shack. From the outside, it is unappealing and average. ...The inside of the shack consists of floor-to-ceiling mirrors, including the walls. No one can last more than five minutes in this room. ...According to the legend, if you stood inside this mirror-room alone for too long, supposedly the devil would show up and steal your soul." The Strange Man does show up in the mirror eventually, and it's kind of curious that the paintings that change depending on your Honour act as metaphorical mirrors. This was also cut, but in the files, Arthur's drawing of the interior of Bayall Edge is unusually sloppy, like his faculties were impaired or something.

"Awful, fascinating and seductive". John writes this about Bayall Edge after the portrait is finished, and I think that's as good a description of something like the / a devil as any, but "seductive" is a big red flag for me, because it's such an odd choice of word and, from a Christian perspective, it's so loaded with connotations of evil and sin and temptation.

I Know You. Some have pointed out that I Know You in RDR1 resembles the Temptation of Christ, as it also takes place in three separate locations in the desert, and John is given moral tests in which he must choose between higher virtue or worldly vice. John is also, in a weird way, a kind of Christ-like figure in that he ultimately sacrifices his life for others. I do think the "temptation" in these encounters is very surreptitious but very much there ("Or rob her yourself" -- excuse me??), but they may also be operating on a Biblical definition of the word, i.e. a test or trial with the free choice of committing sin.

RDR1 dialogue. I don't want to get *too* much into this because I feel like we're all just getting punked in RDR1, but I think the Strange Man's dialogue broadly fits with something like a "devil" interpretation, or at least doesn't contradict it.

I'm thinking particularly of lines like "Damn you!" / "Yes, many have" (which would work metaphorically but also literally, given that the devil was thrown from heaven by God and his angels), and "I hope my boy turns out just like you" (of all the leading theories, I think Satan is the only figure who's popularly conceptualised as having a son, or prophesied to have a son -- God obviously had a son, but that ship kinda sailed).

I think the "accountant" line refers to Honour (which even uses an invisible numerical system), and how John's fate depends on the number of both good and bad acts he's committed throughout his life, and how these weigh against each other. If the Strange Man likes to collect souls, then he would have a vested interest in auditing you and seeing if your accounts are in the black or the red, as it were (and providing you with opportunities to push yourself further into the latter...), because if you're bankrupt, you're his.

Blind Man Cassidy. Interestingly, Cassidy seems to distinguish between "Death" and the Strange Man, implying that he's something else beyond his understanding: in one of Arthur's fortunes, after his TB diagnosis, he says "the man with no nose [Death] is coming for you," but in one of John's fortunes, he says "Two strangers seek thee: one from this world, perhaps one from another. One brings hatred; I'm not so sure what the other brings."

Arthur's cut dialogue. In the files, there's audio of Arthur having the exact same conversation with Herbert Moon as John in the epilogue, asking about the Strange Man picture because he "just seemed familiar". I think it's interesting that, like John, Arthur also would have apparently recognised the Strange Man despite (presumably) never seeing him before. Given how strong a theme morality is in Red Dead -- and how much both John and Arthur struggle with it -- my theory is that they find the Strange Man vaguely familiar because they're both familiar with the evil within themselves, or the potential for evil; and likewise, the Strange Man "knows" John because he embodies evil in some sense, so is aware of John's worst sins (like his involvement at Blackwater), or possibly even all of his sins (which would be, like, a lot).

Honourable mention: There's such a greater emphasis on conspiracies, myths, etc. in RDR2 that I half-wonder if the Strange Man's RDR2 incarnation was partly inspired by Hat Man (~excuse the link~ but often it's hard to find good sources for the kind of weird shit R* includes in their games).

ANYWAY, this got a little long but I hope someone found all this at least passably interesting. Thanks again for letting me ramble about the video game man, anon!

#The Strange Man #inbox #Me @ me: God jsut shut the fcuk-

[guileheroine]

a sky full of song, chapter one

Korra, princess of the Water Kingdoms, receives a gift from her blacksmith friend on the auspicious winter festival / Korrasami royalty AU / ao3 / My piece for the @korrasami-valentine-exchange (assignment: Date A) (reposting with cover!)

“The wedding of the Earth Prince, yes, on the solstice. But it’s an opportune moment for a longer tour, we don’t want to waste the journey. I’m afraid your father can’t afford it, and before you ask, I’ve been conferring with your mother’s office. And frankly, I’m loath to request it of her after…

Councillor Panak trailed off as Korra hurried him along with a gesture of the hand. He pushed his eyeglass up his nose and took her eye seriously. “To the point, then—what do you say?”

Korra was tapping her foot under the meeting table. Prince Wu, if she recalled, was equally as intolerable as old Hou-Ting, the spirits bless his poor betrothed. But the prospect of a fortnight around the Earth Kingdom, with its delicious fare and diverse landscapes… that made her much more amenable to the whole idea.

“Around the solstice, huh? Alright. Why not.” It was a way off. She had time to arrange her retinue and her schedule as efficiently as possible for maximum enjoyment.

“…That means a tour to the Earth Empire in the spring—or summer, if Her Royal Highness prefers it?”

“Oh, spring,” Korra said in a rush. “Spring. I’m not sure I can do Earthen summers.”

Panak smiled quite kindly at that, and nodded at his scribe to jot it down. Korra returned his smile. They really were getting along better. It was nice. This meeting was also stretching much farther into the evening than she had understood it would.

The Lotus Guard at the doorway didn’t so much as blink as she pushed the heavy door open and went out. He was one of the older men, having been here long before the war, and quite accustomed to her ways.

Once Korra was out in the foyer, she raced. Her quarters, and her next appointment, were in the other wing of the palace, but she had promised to go see her mother first for a few minutes before the Queen went to bed. The winter sun was long gone; all the windows she skipped past were dark, torchlight gleaming on the icy sills. In the halls, on the other hand, the air was bright as frost, festive. She wove around decorators from all over Agna Qel’a hanging new crystalwork along the old bead tapestries and tying berry wreaths around the tall pillars. Down the stairs, in the main hall, the humongous fires that burnt uninterrupted over the winter lit the place generously. As she sped through, headed for the opposite staircase, Korra caught the eye of one of the housekeepers.

“Mina! Mina, are you busy?” She took the girl’s arm, whose eyes goggled, alarmed only at the princess’s sudden appearance but unperturbed by her familiar ways. “Could you go to the kitchen and send for some tea to my apartment? Milk and honey for me—and some of whatever black blend is left, what my blacksmith friend likes. They’ll know. Thank you!”

When she turned to continue, she was immediately waylaid by one of the ice sculptors.

“Your Highness! A moment.”

Just a moment to breathe was exactly what it took for Korra to finally notice the centerpiece of the hall: an elaborate sculpture-fountain of Yue. The moon and ocean spirits hovered above each of her hands, water pouring in gentle arcs out of their gaping mouths.

Korra’s father was pulling out all the stops for Yue’s Day. She knew, for her part, that it was a private gesture for the Queen, newly returned from a long diplomatic engagement with the northern Air court. Korra stood at attention for the sculptor, whose fingerless gloves allowed him to bend with especial precision.

“Should her hair run—” he said, bending Yue’s locks of ice into free-flowing rivulets, “or stand arrested?” Another curl of his palm froze them again.

“Freeze them. More volume!” Korra said, thinking of her mother, who always grumbled about her limp hair. Then she was on her way to the Queen’s chambers, and then her own.

“I got your tea. Hi, princess.”

Korra’s blacksmith friend took a pointed sip when she finally entered her drawing room. Asami’s smirk was hidden behind the glassy cup, and her hair was wet. One of Korra’s towels was slung over the back of her seat—one of the nice ones with the finely embroidered monogram.

“Asami. Sorry I’m late!” Korra slumped onto her divan, sending one of the cushions flying onto the carpet. “It’s good to see you.” She took a moment to catch her breath before picking the cushion up, sitting comfortably and grasping for the tray on the table.

“Don’t worry about it,” Asami said, moving the cup from her mouth, the smirk finally melting off. She pushed the tray into Korra’s reach. “I’m done for the day. A couple of the apprentices are closing up shop for the very first time.” Her brows waggled.

“Impressive! But still, thanks for coming. I know you’re working hard.”

“We had an appointment, right? And—” Asami grinned and stretched, pulling her warm wools tighter around her “nothing like the thought of a royal shower at the end of the day to get you through it, you know?”

Korra rolled her eyes. The staff knew to let Asami into Korra’s apartments, and even if she could tell they were a little reticent about her using the princess’s bath and vanity, they of course said nothing. The dogs more or less dragged Asami in through the gates every time she came by the palace, and by order of the princess, they were the ones that decided things in her absence.

Asami scrutinised the tray from the kitchen carefully before picking out a little moon pastry. “How was your meeting?” She took a bite, attentive both to the pastry and Korra.

“Looks like I’m going on tour to the Earth Kingdom in the spring,” Korra told her. She wasn’t surprised to see Asami’s brow spring up, and her taste-testing pause.

“What, all over?”

It was a town in the Earth Kingdom that Asami originally hailed from, before she travelled to the Fire Empire with her father, an innovator in the art of war. After the war’s end and the subsequent reunification of the Water Kingdoms, the newly humbled Sun Emperor had gifted King Tonraq an ancient forge for the royal armoury as a token of good faith and cultural exchange. Korra remembered how it had taken several pulleys, and days, for it to be transported into place in one of the main avenues in the city. They had set up a house around it for a new smith to eventually train locals in the foreign art. Asami—skilled as a metalworker, but bereft of a livelihood and a family after her father’s foundries were shut down—had decided to venture north to start afresh. She vied for the position and won it handily.

Korra glanced at her long. “You could come with me, you know. Take a vacation, if you manage to get this new shop set up in time. I’m sure you’ve trained all your underlings well.”

“We’re getting there,” Asami said vaguely. “But I’ll keep it in mind.”

Korra was musing, recumbent with her feet up now. “I must warn you, t’s for the wedding of the Queen’s nephew. They’re a lot stuffier in the Earth kingdom. All the pomp and pageantry,” she clarified. “I’m not looking forward to that part.”

“I’ll bet.” Asami gave her a sympathetic smile.

Sitting pretty in formal assemblies, she did not enjoy. Peace was harder than war, in a lot of ways. At least it was for Korra, who had been right at home as a strategist commanding the bending battalions in the few Fire Empire skirmishes that had reached the north. Or as a captain fending off the marauding warlords and shaman-kings in the southern fiefs who took advantage of the chaos to arouse the spirits and stage deadly rebellions. Her leadership, covert though it was, had played no small part in subduing the northern theater and paving the way for all the ancient Water tribes to be reunified under Agna Qel’a and her father’s leadership. The lasting peace of the years since had proven they were stronger together. Just as it had proven that the Princess’s patience for peacetime bureaucracy needed a good deal of practice.

“You should come. We’ll do you up as my retainer so you get a salary. I might need you to keep me straight.”

Asami was good at that, blowing off steam after long, boring days. The mellowness of the warmth, nothing like that of her forge, evened Korra’s mood like little else.

“Oh, so you want me to drop everything and trail you around as a handmaiden?”

Korra scoffed, embarrassed. “Well, don’t put it like that.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Asami sat up. “An Earth royal wedding, huh? Think they’ll let me in?” She picked at the cushion in her lap.

“They will if I have anything to say about it.” Korra yawned. “It’ll be my turn soon enough.”

“How’s your mother?” Asami said, following her train of thought seamlessly—it was always the queen that pestered Korra about finding a match, good-natured but more earnest than she ever realised she was appearing.

“Sleeping. She had a long journey back from the Northern Air Temple. Dad’s happy, though. Just casually planning her a ball this weekend for Yue’s Day.”

“Hey, is that what that business down in the hall is?” Some forgotten curiosity clearly jolted Asami. “There were all these new kayaks moored around the drawbridges when I came through, too.”

Korra nodded, while tentative recognition continued to filter into Asami’s expression. It was easy to forget Asami had been here nary a year. But she had, and it had been a busy year too, with little time for exploration, per her own frequent complaints. “You know about it, right?” When Asami shrugged evasively, Korra explained, “It falls on the day of the first full moon after the winter solstice. Yue was a princess of legend—our ancestor, apparently—who became the moon spirit.”

Asami sat forward. She loved tales like this, and listened to them like she was being entrusted a secret.

“We’ve celebrated it as long as anyone remembers, but the festival is supposed to usher good fortune and fertility. I think that’s why it became a couples thing.” Korra didn’t think much of that. “But, well, the idea is to spend the evening under the full moon, which is why all the kayaks are out. Really, everyone just needs an excuse to liven up the winter!”

“That I understand,” Asami said wryly, ill accustomed to the polar night. “Yeah, I went to the market in town to pick up some new gloves and they had stalls and stalls of new fare. Jewelry, wind chimes, furs.”

Korra sat up, conspiratorial. “I bet at least one of your new proteges will sneak you a little gift. I get messages every year. Mostly upstarts, but some cute ones, too.”

When Asami had first been appointed as the blacksmith, Korra was uncertain what a girl her age was doing heading up an official royal undertaking like that, with all its bells and whistles. When she arrived at a welcome dinner with her family, Korra found her altogether too precious, and definitely not deserving of the private summons and the White Lotus escort. Especially not when the whole rigmarole was keeping Korra from her planned retreat to the kennels for the evening, where, in the end, the strapping night guards were giggling and blushing about the new blacksmith.

At her father’s behest, Korra had put on her most functional anorak and taken Asami some cakes, conserves and newly dried jerky from the palace a couple weeks after their meeting. He insisted it was a part of the Princess’s duty to look after someone in their employ so new to the land—a girl her own age no less. Down in the city, the townsfolk were pleased to see Korra as she made her way to the workshop, but no one made a fuss (unless they were young and excitable already), unlike what she had heard of the other Kingdoms, larger and loftier as they were. She wondered if Asami the Blacksmith liked that about here, or found it lacked decorum, as Korra knew some folk abroad definitely did.

Asami had a study above the forge, from which she dealt with its administration, and living quarters on the next storey. These were yet lonely and sparse, but not completely devoid of homely touches, as though she would have spruced them up if she only had the opportunity. Korra noticed well-kept shrubs and a vivid landscape on the wall; then Asami came and curtseyed deep and pulled off her apron.

She was willowy and beautiful under the gear and the soot (over it, too, to be honest), which endeared and repelled Korra in fairly equal measure, ultimately leaving her as indifferent as ever.

“My parents and Lord Arnook want to know how you’re getting on.” Lord Arnook was the esteemed keeper of the royal armoury, and he liked Asami just as much as everyone else did.

A flicker of sadness—shame?—crossed her face, then she put her hand on the table. “Won’t you sit? Your Highness. Let me bring you something hot first.”

Asami lit the fire in the blink of an eye and stoked it without watching, like it was the back of her hand. She had some bread in the pantry, over which she spread the aqpik jam Korra had delivered her. Korra watched her as she boiled the water. Her skirt was heavy, probably to insulate from the heat and cold alike, but it fell flatteringly from her height; and her long hair, which had flown in waves in a foreign style at dinner, was pinned into a practical bun. She made a sharp, fragrant tea she had brought from the continent. Her eyes lit up unexpectedly when Korra bent her own cup to cool it.

“Ah, I love seeing that,” she cooed. “I suppose I’m still not used to it. The other elements don’t bend like that. And I hear you have great skill.”

Korra’s own smile came too quick for her to suppress. “Who told you that, the King?” Then she regarded her keenly. So, how are you… Do you need anything? Do the men from the quarry treat you okay?”

“Oh, everyone here is… They’re very warm. Makes up for the chill,” Asami laughed.

It was a line so hackneyed that gritting through it was itself a country-wide inside joke. But this calm and rosy girl injected fresh, charmless charm into it. Maybe everything was charming if someone this winsome did it. After that, Korra softened considerably.

“They are,” she replied, with no small amount of pride. A sudden shame crept up her chest, that she probably couldn’t count herself among those nice people that had made Asami feel welcome.

Then Asami swallowed and the colour of her voice changed. “I miss my home, though. I know this job is more kindness than I deserve, after what we did but… It is a little lonely here.” She confirmed what Korra had already deduced, mostly because she knew the feeling all too well. “I guess I just don’t have a lot of time to go and make friends after work.”

Korra didn’t doubt that; it was hard, physical work. The one or two times she’d witnessed it, the clang rang in her ears for hours afterwards. She wouldn’t have pegged a girl like this for it. Asami reminded her more of some of the young ladies she knew from her old classes, when all the children around the court would be dumped into the royal healing hut together for some hands-on learning.

“Have you been beyond the city yet? The land out there… that’s our land. This is just a fortress.”

“Oh, I’ve been wanting to,” Asami said, wistful. “Pretty sure I can’t go on foot though.”

“Well, if… if you don’t know anyone else, I could take you. I have the best dogs in the Four Kingdoms.”

Before the month was up, Korra had sent a commission to the Queen’s personal seamstress for some sealskin gloves and winter-grade furs. She gifted them to Asami on her birthday. “You need these anyway, I think, but you’ll definitely need them where we’re going.” And that night, Korra took her to see the aurora.

There was a hamlet a few miles north of Agna Qel’a where Korra knew the elderly chief and had asked her for passage to an outcrop in their territory, after divining the well kept secret that it was one of the prime spots for watching the sky dance. Asami, enchanted, never took her eyes off it—so unflinching that Korra almost began to feel envious of the lights.

It became a routine. Korra knew every inch of her realm. If a diplomatic mission sent her to one tribe or settlement, she would be sure to take a day or two exploring the local country before she returned to the capitol. It had been a great boon when the southern tribes first came under their stewardship. The Princess spent time in every village, took interest in their land and in their lore; met challenges of the wilds and the weather with hunger, and any unknowns thereof with abiding curiosity. She knew what to wear, which sled or boat to take. When to find the rarest whale pods before they went south; where the starriest cliffs were, and the sunniest lakes.

All of which impressed Asami a great deal, and that made Korra happier than most things. And no worse were the days they spent in her apartments going over the sordid palace gossip, or in her apartments tracing old scars by lamplight, healing them word by gentle word.

On Yue’s Day, Korra stopped by to see various palace aides located around the city with customary gifts. In a castle town, there were plenty with such connections, and she relished the ruddy smiles, quick drinks, and flustered curtsies she received in turn. She saved Asami for last, because Asami had asked for some time together. Korra entered the smithy by the front, her senses clogging with immediate heat. Two of the apprentices were there: one of them gaped while the other barely blinked.

“Asami? I come bearing punch… and those moon pastries you like!”

She commenced the usual ritual of announcing her presence over the steam and noise while peeling off all but a couple of her layers, when Asami emerged out of the back. She was squeezing her hands together in excitement.

“No, no, no, don’t,” she urged, a gleam in her eyes like the blades that hung behind her, “we’re going somewhere.”

A few minutes later, they were walking along the main canal under the sparkling lights, milling through the townspeople. A fresh drift crunched beneath their boots. In a few more, they were alighting one of the kayaks in the dock.

Asami faced her and paddled like a natural; and naturally, Korra gaped.

“Do not tell me you haven’t done this before!”

Asami’s tongue stuck out in concentration as she suppressed a giggle, but her limbs moved with finesse. “Just the once. So far. Don’t be distracting me.”

“I won’t let us capsize,” Korra assured her.

Eventually, Asami settled into her rhythm, and the canal carried them out of the city, past all the lights. The banks of glass-cut brick gave way to a more jagged channel littered with pack ice at its mouth, floating blue and still. Korra gripped the edge of the kayak, not for any physical comfort. A crackling anticipation, and an unnameable fondness both, were welling and welling in her with every mundane word they shared.

When they disembarked on the lake’s other edge, the ice was landfast: a ghostly field glowing under the full moon.

Korra knew this place, but she had scarcely been here in the middle of winter, when the ice field extended endlessly, as vast as the sky. As they tramped across the snow, she began to wonder what Asami’s surprise was. There wasn’t much for a mile in any direction.

“We should sit for this,” Asami said, pointedly ignoring Korra’s prying questions.

The wind had kicked the snow up into berms along the field. Korra froze one so it was sturdy enough to perch on. Then Asami took her pack, and pulled out some plain tubes of parchment; nothing Korra would have looked at twice, although she didn’t know what they were.

“What’s in there?” She said.

“Some of my metals, some of my salts,” Asami replied enigmatically, almost sing-song. “Wait here.”

She heaved herself off the berm, ran several yards towards the horizon and stooped. She planted the tubes, and did something else Korra couldn’t see, though she thought she recognised the bright filigree on the cover of the pocket matchbook Asami carried everywhere.

When Asami had trundled back and sat again, Korra crossed her arms and laughed, bemused, her humour ebbing. “Are you going to tell me what’s going—”

BOOM!

Korra gasped, startled out of her words. She would have fallen from the perch if Asami didn’t catch her around the waist, giggling blithely all the while—

A wheel of light bloomed in the sky like a flower, dazzling and surreal. All the colours of the aurora—except they were peals of crystal fire, pouring out like diamonds before disappearing into the smoky air. Another wheeled up after it with a strange whirr, before it exploded into a glittering shower, and more in succession.

They reminded Korra of the spirit hales in the heart of the wilds, and even deeper in a buried memory, of the Fire explosives some of the raiders had once set off on the Southern Sea. Except these were brighter—and safer, because Asami had made them.

Korra looked to her when they had died, beaming under the mitten that covered her mouth in shock. “Are there more?”

To her eternal delight, there were more. New flowers sprouting on the celestial vault, they would be burned in her memory forever.

“They’re no aurora,” Asami said, while Korra scoffed and slung her arms around her, huddling for the cold and the buzz. Under her embrace, and half her weight, Asami looked chuffed. “But I thought they might liven up your night.”

Korra cupped her earmuff, then her cheek. “Thank you. This is the best day I’ve had all winter.”

Asami’s pyrotechnical skills didn’t even surprise her, but that could hardly diminish the sheer majesty, and novelty, of the display. Even minutes later, Korra could hardly believe what she had seen.

“Well, I couldn’t let you be the only show-off around here.” Asami smiled. Then the smile dropped from her eyes and she hesitated, like she couldn’t let that sit for an explanation. “Korra. I wanted to do something special. You’ve made me feel at home here in a way I never imagined. And I’m just a smith, from the Fire Empire!”

Korra felt her eyes water and blinked the tears back quickly, because they would ice and sting in the bitter air. She bit the smile off her lips. “You’re not just anything. You’re a terrific handmaiden.”

She snorted as Asami shoved her off and reached for her pack again.

“One more thing. I thought it might be too smokey for this after all those incendiaries, but it’s worth a shot anyway.”

This time Korra recognised the device she emerged with. It was made of two cylinders, and the mechanism that held them together spun smoothly like the spokes of a wheel. She handed it to Korra, who held the spyglass up.

A field of stars materialised. Korra held her breath.

The stars were luminous at the poles, but she had never seen them like this, and for the first time they felt close enough to touch, invoking a bracing, irrepressible wonder. In silence, she gazed.

“The moon spirit leads all the stars out tonight, right?”

Asami had done her research. Korra turned back to her. “So they say.” She hooked her arm through Asami’s, and held her hand. With the spyglass still to her eye, she let her head fall against Asami’s bundled shoulder.

“Tired, princess?”

Korra rustled her breath, long-suffering. “Why do you call me that!”

The way Asami said it—like it was something of her own decree, and not that of ten thousand years of tradition and some profoundly sacred doctrines. There was a sweet and strange tug in Korra’s belly whenever it happened, and this time, tonight, it lingered longer than ever.

“‘Cause you’re a piece of work,” Asami said, trying to interlace their thick, mittened fingers, which required some effort.

Tentatively, Korra turned the spyglass to the moon herself. She winced— it glared straight back, too bright. Maybe another night, when it wasn’t Yue’s Day.

Yue’s Day. She now held the thought delicately in her chest, as if she wanted to guard it from the wind and chill. If Asami loved her—were to love her—there were several reasons not to say it. They both knew them, whether they had turned them over consciously or not.

But the risk of showing was low. And the reward, as her own euphoric mood tonight proved, was magnificent.

#i made a cover for the 2nd chapter and decided to do one forall of them #will post new chap tomoro #korrasami #korrasami fanfiction #legend of korra #** #asfos

[foundthe8wing]

Okay, doing this over here because my main tumblr is usually a place for me to vibe and I don’t want all the bullshit tied to that account, but basically: I’m really angry and disappointed with the dndads cast for how they’ve put a lot of the minors in their fanbase in danger. Everything below is a repost from twitter (with permission from the OP, crypticjoy), and I’ll link the thread in a reblog. 

Under a cut because it’s long and potentially triggering (content warnings for grooming, sexualizing minors, and sexual assault)

[OP tagged the relevant cast accounts; I added slashes here bc I’m not sure if those same urls exist on tumblr and I don’t want to be randomly tagging people over here]

5:49 PM Sep 5, 2020

“I don’t usually do this, but: the way that the cast of @/dungeonsanddads engages with their audience is actively dangerous to minors, and they need to get it together. (cw for discussion of grooming, sexualizing minors, sexual assault)

First off, there are some iffy jokes and situations in the podcast itself. I’m not going to get into all of it right here, but have a google doc: [doc will also be linked in reblog]

Yes, the kids in #dndads are fictional, but that doesn’t mean this stuff doesn’t affect real kids listening. a. it normalizes talking/joking about kids in that way and b. There’s a lot of inconsistancy and confusion on the lines they draw--

Paeden saying “baby” is weird but Ron sitting in Terry Jr’s lap isn’t? I’m confused. You know who the fuck relies on that type of confusion and unclarity? Fucking predators

And I’m not saying every in-character decision has to be perfectly moral or acceptable, but the way the cast, out of character, discuss what’s weird and what’s not sends a lot of mixed messages. And that’s legitimately dangerous.

So then you take all of this, and you add a patron discord server that lets nsfw discussions run virtually unchecked--you create a fandom space that allows adults to discuss kinks, and porn searches, and just, all this other stuff, with teenagers...

... and it becomes a breeding ground for grooming and abuse.

The creators aren’t responsible for babysitting their fanbase or for how people engage with their content outside of their spaces (though, again, I’d urge them to be very careful about what kind of messages they’re sending)

But  they ARE responsible for taking basic steps to keep the spaces that THEY create and engage with safe.

“But the rules for the server say 18+!” The rules say you have to be 18 *or have parental permission.* They also say to keep things PG-13. That’s vastly different than establishing something as an adult-only/nsfw space.

“Minors shouldn’t be joining/listening anyway!” The cast can’t control who listens and neither can I, but there’s a difference between knowing teens are listening to you discuss sex with your adult friends vs facilitating conversations between teens and adults on those topics.

“If people are uncomfortable they can just leave.” First off, this situation isn’t just uncomfortable, it’s unSAFE. Second: fuck that. It’s not on minors to set and maintain boundaries about this stuff; a lot of them literally do not know how

Not because they’re stupid, but because they’re young and inexperienced. It’s the responsibility of adults to set and enforce healthy boundaries around sexual discussions, and this particular group of adults has done a fucking terrible job

(Maybe don’t encourage listeners to DM you about kinks! Maybe especially don’t do that when you’ve communicated, intentionally or not, that making and escalating sexual jokes is a really good way to get a reaction from you guys)

I get that they didn’t expect to have so many young listeners, but to be aware of that fact and make no adjustments whatsoever is irresponsible and it WILL lead to someone getting hurt. Does their “young, thirsty, female” audience only exist to them when they can laugh about it?

And let’s be absolutely 1000% clear: this isn’t an issue they’re unaware of. The stuff I’m talking about is an ongoing problem with how their server is run, but it came to a head with one specific situation very recently:

They released a bonus, patron-exclusive episode about the dads taking the bdsm test. Given the general state of the server, I was worried about where those discussions might lead, so before it dropped, I reached out to @/anthony_burch to express my concern

He told me he raised the issue with @/fwong and Ashley, meaning at least three members of the dndads team were aware of the situation, and decided it didn’t warrant any type of preemptive action on their part

(alternatively, it means Anthony lied, which would be a whole separate issue)

[Image ID: a discord DM conversation from Sep 1, 2020, between a crossed out username and reverendanthony. It reads: 

OP: heyyyyy have you guys considered that releasing an episode focused on the bdsm test is almost inevitably going to lead to a bunch of 15 year olds sharing their results in your server because you might want to get ahead of that before someone gets hurt

reverendanthony: oh holy shit, really good idea

OP: thanks, I know it's easy to veer into that territory just because of the nature of your show but I wanted to bring it to your attention because I figured you don't want to create a situation that's like, actively dangerous (and for the record I'm willing to discuss what I think would make it safer but I'm also not going to assume you want/need my input, obviously you can handle it however you see fit)

reverendanthony: No, thank you for bring it up, I really appreciate it -- I just raised the issue with Freddie and Ashley

OP: Good to know, thank you /End ID]

I’m not overreacting. I have seen this shit happen, to my friends and to myself, and watching the dndads cast take absolutely no meaningful action to prevent situations like that from occurring directly under their noses makes me fucking livid

I can guarantee that the #dungeonsanddaddies fanbase includes both predators and survivors of abuse, grooming, etc (including those currently living through it), and I need them to think very, very hard about which group they’re prioritizing.

And I need that choice to be evident through more than just their words, because it doesn’t fucking matter how much you “really appreciate” that I brought up my concerns if you do fuck-all to address them.

It doesn’t matter how many times you say the word “consent” if apparently everyone was okay that “Darryl gets sexually assaulted” was almost a plot point played for laughs.

(His dare from Scam  would have been rape, straight up. Just because no one said the word doesn’t mean it wasn’t coercive and gross).

I’d like to think the @/dungeonsanddads cast isn’t intentionally encouraging abuse, but they’re sure as hell enabling it, and they needed to get their shit together ages ago, because they’re not the ones their negligence hurts.”

Quote retweet by OP 6:51 PM Sep 7, 2020

“So, they updated the rules for the patron server, but I want to be really clear that from my perspective, it’s way too little, way too late. 

The new rules don’t adequately address the core issues and they certainly don’t absolve the cast of the harm they’ve already caused. 

[Tweet includes 2 screenshots: one of a bot asking people to click thumbs up to confirm they’re 18+ (or have a parent’s permission) and agree to the rules, and one that includes two of the rules. It reads: 

“This is an 18+ space. Them’s the rules: per Patreon’s policy, you must be 18+ or have parental permission.

Use language as if you’re at your parents dinner table. Don’t get people in trouble because of your SPICY POSTS. Keep conversation polite. NSFW content is not allowed!”]

(and before anyone says I should bring up my concerns privately, a quick refresher on how well that went last time I did it:) 

[links back to the “(alternatively, it means Anthony lied . . .)” tweet from the original thread]

So hey, @/fwong, some thoughts:

1.The rules are vague and unclear: what /exactly/ do you mean when you say “NSFW content is not allowed!” when the content of your show itself is so often nsfw? And how are you planning to enforce this?

Does it mean you’ll shut down the MBIC conversation that is literally just kink discussion? I need you to be clear on where the line is, because, again, predators rely on that confusion. Don’t give them a gray area to play in. 

For an example of a more clear policy, it’s pretty easy to say, “yep, ‘Henry gets pegged’ sure is a sentence we said on our show and you don’t have to pretend it’s not, but if you’d like to discuss it in any more detail at all, you need to move”

2. Remember how I said I needed to be clear on whether you’re prioritizing survivors or predators? While I doubt it was intentional, the language you’re using here is prioritizing predators.

It’s not “don’t get people in trouble,” it’s “don’t make people uncomfortable.” It’s “we all have a responsibility to make sure this space is safe for everyone, especially the younger members of the community.”

You’re setting people up to be afraid of expressing concerns for fear of “getting people in trouble” or “inciting unnecessary drama.” Even if it’s not what YOU meant, it’s very easy for those words to be manipulated, so +

You absolutely have to be explicitly clear that if someone expresses their discomfort, you’ve got their back. Being safe is more important than being polite. 

3. I need every cast member to take responsibility for their own actions. I’ve gotten no indication from any of you that you understand the ways in which the in-show things I brought up were harmful.

Acknowledging that harm is important not just because of the immediate effects of that content, but also because it implicitly sets an example for how similar complaints should be dealt with going forward.

When someone says “hey, I was uncomfortable that you seem fine with the Glennary ship, because she reads as very young to me,” I don’t need a dissertation on how the perception of characters can evolve due to your improvisational nature

I need to hear “oh, I interpreted her differently, but you’re right, we should have been more clear, and I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.” Because your responses to your own mistakes set the tone for any other situations like that going forward.

How comfortable is someone going to be with coming to you, or Ash, or any of the mods about someone making them uncomfortable if they’ve seen that when people call YOU out, they’re argued with and shut down?

Don’t tell people you’ve “made it clear that you won’t go there” when they tell you that you ARE there. Listen to them and do better. 

Set the expectation that people will be respected when they raise their concerns. “If you want to come at me you have to bring the heat” is not an appropriate response on a subject that made people genuinely uncomfortable. 

In essence: set people up to be supported and protected, not dismissed. 

[It’s like a matriosche of tweets over here. This one links to another thread, also by crypticjoy. That thread reads:

A non-comprehensive guide to keeping discord servers safe for minors:

1. Make designated channels for nsfw/18+ discussion. Generally speaking, this is a lot more effective than banning those discussions altogether, because it’s a lot easier to say “hey, can you move this conversation?” than “hey, I need you to stop”

In fandom spaces, it’s usually a good idea to have separate channels for talking about nsfw fiction vs discussing your personal sex lives.

2. Give everyone minor/adult roles; make sure your 18+ channels are locked to people who don’t have an adult role. It’s important that there’s more of a barrier there than just checking a box.

3. NSFW channels shouldn’t necessarily be a free-for-all; be aware of people’s boundaries and respect them (for example, r*pe jokes aren’t funny or okay, even if you’re not making them around kids)

4. Explicitly state in your rules that people should feel free to come to mods if anyone is making them uncomfortable. Actually listen to people and resolve the situation if they do approach you.

5. Make it clear that creepy behavior via DMs or other means is also not tolerated--you can’t control what people do outside your server, but you can make the choice to not allow people like that in your space

6. Make sure mods are on top of things BEFORE people have to say anything; sometimes being a mod means being willing to be the “asshole” who shuts things down before they get out of hand, even if they’re not asked.

Be generally aware of signals that people are uncomfortable or that things are escalating too far, and address those situations sooner rather than later.

*It should be noted that safety involves a lot of components beyond just containing nsfw discussions; this thread just happens to be focused on that one specific element.

oh also! It's a good idea to provide resources on grooming so people know what to look out for [links to some resources; again, this’ll be in the reblog]]

So, @/dungeonsanddads, if you’re interested in anything beyond just having a flimsy excuse you can point to to cover your own ass, I’m gonna need you to try again.

Sorry I can’t be nicer about it, but I’ve given so many benefits of the doubt I could be running a successful charity, and this isn’t an issue I’m willing to drop. 

10:02 PM

Thought I was done but actually I've got a few more questions: to what extent were @/HeyBethMay, @/WillBCampos, and @/mattLarnold included in conversations about this issue/the new rules? Is this something your whole team is involved in?

Have you discussed what you're doing on a team and individual basis to keep your fan interactions safe, and are you on the same page about how much it matters? Are you holding each other accountable? Is everyone okay with where this ended up?”

#dungeons and daddies #dndads #cw grooming #cw SA #8wing

[faunusrights]

Citrus Summers (GWS AU)

just had this idea nip into my head... i really wanna do more with menagerie and the scarlatina fam but for now have this lil snapshot of velvet growing up :)

great weiss shark au, weiss's pronouns are she/her, velvet's pronouns are she/they

###

"So, what was your hometown like?"

Velvet's used to Weiss's interest in her life; they come from two radically different ends of some bonkers spectrum of lifestyles, where one end (Velvet's) is radical self-acceptance, anti-cop sentiment, and a Scroll full to bursting with communist memes, whilst the other end (Weiss's) is... well, to be honest, Velvet doesn't like to think about what that end entails, exactly. All she knows is that it was exactly what a young shark Faunus without any clue as to her heritage didn't need. So, Velvet entertains her with stories of growing up in the deserts of Menagerie, of her time running along the trash-strewn beaches of Kuo Kuana, of her years shooting up like a weed under the relentless freckling kisses of the bright and vibrant sun.

Sometimes Velvet can tell she can't quite wrap her head around how different their lives are, yet have somehow ended up on such an intersection as to be able to call each other friends. Velvet just goes with the flow about it all.

"Well, we didn't have a hometown, really," Velvet starts, attention half-drawn to sets of plans scattered about her desk in her dorm. She's got big plans to improve Anesidora's projector and fix the information compression problems; drawing a flat 2D image into a 3D projection has always been a sticking point, but she's nearly got it down to the extent that her wireframe tests very nearly reveal the dents and dings and imperfections that it'd previously ironed out by mistake. Accuracy is key, and she crawls ever closer to a perfect 1-to-1 copy each and every day. It's just really boring work, is all. "We lived outside of the nearest town by a couple of miles, but we went there pretty regularly, so I guess you could call it that."

Weiss hums, letting herself fall back onto Velvet's unmade bed, the handwoven blankets of orange and black brought straight over from the homeland and still gritty with red dirt to prove it. "What's it called?"

"Desert Sands. Very original, I know."

"You know a lot of the people there?"

"Shit, they trade us meat and gas for potatoes and carrots and tomatoes, not to mention almost everyone there immigrated in a group with my grandparents. I know that town like my own family."

"What's your favourite thing there?"

That pulls Velvet up short, and she worries at her bottom lip as she stares as a variety of absolutely godawful equations. Thank the maidens Weiss has given her something meaty to say, because she can't bear the idea of redoing all this horrible maths. "Uh, probably the inn, as everyone else who lives there would say. Can't go wrong with a good old fashioned pint and a few rounds of pool."

"Even as a kid?" Weiss says, and Velvet can hear the raised brow even though she can't quite see it.

"Even as a kid," Velvet agrees. "My mam had a couple of pints and my da flirted with the guys and I'd go out with my siblings to meet our friends and raise a little hell. Not very often, but often enough."

Weiss goes sort of quiet, in a way that Velvet recognises as an intensive processing of what she's just heard. She wonders, briefly, if Weiss can even imagine that sort of freedom after a childhood spent locked in the same old rooms of the same old house--even when it's as big as the Schnee manor--and then pushes that thought away. If Weiss wants to ever get into all that, it'll be in her own time.

"Describe it to me?" Weiss asks in a very little voice after a few seconds, and Velvet nods. She can do that. She remembers those halcyon days like they were yesterday.

###

"Trench, I swear, if you don't repaint those window sills I'm gonna sneak down here and do it myself, asshole."

This was about as typical an entry as Taffeta Scarlatina could ever make, shouldering open the dark wood door into the Desert Sands Inn with a grin on her face and children in tow, Ash bringing up the rear and trying to pretend he couldn't see everyone turn in their seats to look to the new arrivals. It was one of those establishments with a big boxy interior and just a handful of rooms to the side, where the only three doors led into the toilets and the kitchens and the stairwell to the rooms above, and much like everything else on Menagerie, nothing ever matched; the doors had been collected from a variety of sources, the floorboards uneven and scratched and recut, the paint on the walls patchy with mismatched shades and covered with picture frames in some last-ditch attempt to hide it. No two stools matched, no three tables carved by the same hand, but that was the price of the community effort--everything you ever needed, maybe just not in the way you always expected.

"Taffeta," Trench greeted from behind the bar, turning to fetch a pair of glasses without prompting whilst making sure not to jostle the hanging bottles overhead with his great buffalo horns, split like a strange middle parting on the top of his head. "You're welcome to it, to be frank; Cinna doesn't have a clue where she's put the paint, last we saw it."

Taffeta rolled her eyes, letting go of Velvet's hand to pat her between her ears instead, the ten year old quick to laugh and duck away. "I'm sure. Not at all like I said I have some lying around the last three times I was here. You really that scared of scraping all that flaking paint off?"

"Well," Trench said after a moment, leaning under the bar for a second. "I did get some in my eyes last time, and boy, that hurted. You want your usual?"

"Pint of porter for me, and something weak for my pretty boy, lest he forget which way is up," Taffeta agreed, shooting a wink Ash's way and cackling when he blushed. "And some juice boxes for the kids?"

Trench didn't even pause, turning about to fish out a variety of colourful cartons adorned with a collection of cartoon characters, and Taffeta lifted Velvet up to plop her onto one of the few cushioned stools, Chiffon quick to use her older, longer limbs to scramble her own way up. Trench offered the drinks out freely, letting them decide between orange and passionfruit flavours, before noticing the new addition on Ash's hip. "Oh? This the newest Scarlatina?"

Satin--hardly a year old--was clinging to her da's loose shirt, dark eyes looking about in wonder, and Taffeta smiled before reaching over to brush her loose, light hair out of her eyeline. "Sure is. Gettin' real big already, so we thought it was high time to meet the folks around here. She won't be the last, though." At that, Taffeta leant across the bar, dropping her voice low. "Would you believe me if I said Ash is already askin' for the next one?"

"Slander," Ash shot back, face still pink. "I just said four is a rounder number than three."

Trench made a face, glancing pointedly away. "My girl woulda mounted my horns on the wall for that one. We had just the one and she swore off the rest before I could even consider it. Count yourself lucky."

"Cinnamon's a good kid," Ash offered, rearranging Satin to sit a little nicer in his lap. "I think that all worked out in the end."

Taffeta rolled her eyes, watching as Velvet picked the orange juice for herself, leaving the eldest to the passionfruit. "Doesn't that imply we have so many 'cause you don't think just one was good enough? Chiff's a darling, if a bit of a pain in my ass, huh, baby?"

Chiffon ignored them both to instead help Velvet punch the straw into the carton, and Ash grinned. "Just one was perfect, but you told me yourself that you don't think I know when to fold."

"You don't," Trench interjected, pouring out a pint of something dark and bitter enough to linger on the tongue. "When we played poker last year... phew. Thank the maidens it was a couple's night, else you woulda been walking home absolutely stark--"

"--drunk," Taffeta quickly interrupted, glancing towards the kids who stared back with wide eyes. "Been walking home absolutely stark... trashed. Wasted. Uh, Trench, what's on the menu today, whilst it's on my mind?"

As they discussed the menu (Taffeta eager to point out the contributions of the family crops, asking, overly sweetly, and who traded you those lovely chickens? they must have been very generous), Chiffon turned to Ash in her seat, legs swinging freely, bumping into the overly-varnished wood of the bar. "Da? Can me 'n Velv go out and play?"

"Sure can, kiddo," Ash said, though he was quick to grab Chiffon's arm before she could throw herself off the stool with the straw still in her mouth. "Woah, take that out first before you end up swallowing it. You remember the rules?"

Chiffon nodded, face cast all seriously. "Don't go outta town. Be back before dark. If someone tries to bully us, punch 'em in the nose."

"And?" Ash added, drawing his brows together.

Velvet chirped up. "Cops aren't friends!"

At that, Ash broke out into a grin, as bright as Velvet's and twice as toothy. "That's right. You go have fun, and don't eat too many snacks; we're having dinner here before we go home."

Chiffon slid free of her stool, turning about to help Velvet down too, and then the pair scampered towards the door with a harmonised yes da! before pulling it open to the main road outside, the sunlight blisteringly bright, the sky an endless, cloudless blue overhead. The paint on the windowsill peeled off and flecked away, and under their shoes, the ground crunched.

Everything tasted of oranges.

###

Weiss sits silently.

"Did you get back before dark?"

Velvet snorts, sitting back in her chair until it creaks dangerously below. "Just about, though my mam didn't look all that impressed. Still, can't do much about it; we didn't even have, like, landline calls back then, let alone Scrolls and shit."

Weiss laughs to herself, rolling over and tucking her legs up onto Velvet's bed until she's curled atop the blankets, running a thumb over the wool quietly, repetitively. Truth is, they still smell of Menagerie, of home; Velvet could wash it a thousand times, but the earthy scent of hot summers and prickling scrublands sticks like its own aura.

"I'm jealous," Weiss says simply, and then she draws the blankets up to partly cocoon herself, tight across the ribs, loose about the ankles. "Will I... would you show me it, sometime? If I went there?"

It's sweet. Velvet wishes she could travel through time and show it to Weiss from the start; she wishes she could have told her what she would have, in the future. Look, see? This is real. You can have this too. Happiness doesn't only exist for people far away; you get to feel this, too.

"Of course," Velvet says with a smile, instead. "Bold if you to think my parents don't demand they meet every single last one of my friends."

Weiss grins back, all shark-toothed and sharp, and Velvet likes how it looks on her face. It took her team months to eek it out of her more often than every couple of weeks, but now, it's practically daily. "I'm afraid the offer doesn't extend back to you."

"Thanks the maidens," Velvet says, very seriously. "Because if I ever meet your dad, I'm setting his car alight."

#rwby #weiss schnee #velvet scarlatina #gws au #great weiss shark #its one of those tags #my writing #just a lil thing #(taffeta paints the windows as payment for the beer)