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cherubify · 2 months

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notes: fluff, comfort, short drabble, reader is a stand in for ashley, inspired by the bed i found in one of the rooms in early stages of castle exploration, mentions of blood, plagas-infected reader

"hey, there's a bed here." leon turns to the sound of your voice and his eyes fall on the object of your attention. you peek from the doorway, eyes hopeful. "maybe we can take a short break."

"maybe," he says as he looks down at the bodies piled on the floor. he stashes his knife into its holder and points at a corner. "wait here while i get rid of them."

"i can help!" you offer but he shows you a gloved palm to stop you. your face falls, but you know better than to argue. he rather work alone. so you obediently stand in a corner as instructed, back facing a long line of halberds and blades.

he piles the bodies along the corridor, a warning and an open sign that both of you have successfully infiltrated the castle. streaks of blood run across the carpeted floor and you wrinkle your nose. why is their blood a brown-ish hue? and it kinda smells. even your blood during that time of the month isn't that stinky.

when leon finishes, he checks the corridor once more then shuts the door. he pushes a cupboard to brace against it, locking both of you inside it. better safe than sorry– who knew how many of los illuminados lurked in the shadows?

you stare at him expectantly and he nods. a smile spreads across your face as you fling yourself onto the bed, giggling while the mattress bounces on old springs. clutching the sheets, you bury your cace in them and sigh. it has been a while since you slept on a nice bed. ever since the day you were kidnapped, you've only know cold and hard floors. you nuzzle the sheets and sniff them. a funny stale scent, but not weird enough to care.

leon sits on the floor, back resting against the bed frame. his back faces you and you stare at his blonde hair, at the back of his head. so far you've been going along with everything the blonde does. he claims to be working for your father, but what if it's a lie?

you frown at that. but he has always put you out of harms way, sheltering you with his body even. the proof lay in the cuts littering his arms and the multitude of tears across his shirt. running in caves and being chased by blade wielding mobs, he made sure to hold your hand while leading you to safety.

you rub your eyes. how could you doubt him– he's done everything so far for you. your chest squeezes and you cough. blood splatters onto your hand, and you look at him, at his slumped shoulders before wiping it away behind you on the sheets. the last thing you should do is worry him further.

"what's wrong?" he asks as he peers past his shoulder. parts of his gun sits on his lap, a box of ammunition on the floor. "you feeling okay?"

"yeah," you swipe your hand against your blouse and smile weakly. "just tired. i haven't slept in a while."

the blonde assembles his gun with a number of clicks before slipping it back into its holster. he hugs a knee to his chest and he leans back. "try to get some shut eye. i can keep watch."

"thanks," you mumble into the sheets. "y'know, this feels like a bad dream. i want it to be over soon."

"it will be. it's just a bad dream," he mimics your words. though he doesn't sound convinced.

"a bad dream," you whisper back. you reach out your hand. "then, can you hold my hand? maybe it'll help me wake up from this nightmare."

the blonde agent holds a moment of silence. you can't see his face, but you guess his fluffy brows are scrunched up in thought. always contemplating, so serious and brooding. you almost withdraw your hand when he turns so that his body faces you completely. he sits, cross legged, and extends his hand to you.

"if it helps you," he says. you nod and he places his palm on top of yours. wordlessly, you interlock your fingers with his and you give him a tentative squeeze.

he squeezes back once, and although he doesn't smile outwardly, you can see it in his eyes. warmth floods your body, and while your chest tingles with mild discomfort, you manage a relieved smile.

"it's gonna be okay. we're gonna be okay," you hear him say. you want to thank him but sleep carries you away from this realm, to a quieter place of no suffering.

all content written by @puppyina ! do not repost, edit or plagiarise. requests are open for any past written characters.

#resident evil #resident evil x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy blurb #leon kennedy drabble #cw: blood

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artemis32 · 1 year

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Can you do a Drabble or imagines for Xiaolong from Lookism?

I got a similar ask like a few months ago and I got halfway through answering it before I forgot about it, so here you go eventually

is this a fic?? a drabble?? headcanons?? no one knows

art's 21st birthday celebration masterlist

lookism masterlist

And yet, here you are.

The likelihood of you catching his eye is low. So low.

The most plausible reason for the two of you ever crossing paths is that you were a friend of Vivi’s - or rather, your fathers were business partners and you were ordered to spend time with her for the sake of some or other business deal.

It’s not that you thought she was a horrible person. Well, not at first.

You were young when you first met her, a bit before Xiaolung was brought on as her bodyguard.

Something about her had made you uncomfortable. Not enough to leave, just enough to be wary of her - at least, as wary as a child could be.

As the years went on, she changed, became worse. Part of you would have liked to have excused her behaviour, her mindset. It would have been easy enough to brush her bad attitude off as a result of her turbulent childhood, or the freedom she had been given at such a young age.

For a few years, you did. You ignored her off-putting mannerisms, her unhealthy habits, the people she surrounded herself with.

You ignored all of it. Until you couldn’t anymore.

No matter how disgusted Vivi had made you over the years, you had remained cordial, polite, sometimes even nice, if that was possible.

But something like this - you’d been sick when you’d found out.

Bent over the porcelain toilet bowl, you’d sat there for twenty minutes, until your stomach was empty and you were left dry heaving, throat constricting painfully.

How on earth could you have stuck around for this long? Why? Why did you have to find out about this?

Instead of voicing your concerns, you slowly tidied yourself up, rinsing your mouth out a few times.

The sour taste still remained. Or maybe that was just the guilt you felt.

****

Thinking back on it, you must have been pretty naïve to see the best parts of Vivi. And you must have been just as bad as her to ignore how truly corrupt she was.

Ignoring her drug problem was easy enough.

It wasn’t illegal in Korea, so it was none of your business. If she wanted to destroy herself, that was her problem. Besides, it wasn’t as if the two of you were actually friends.

Not in any way that actually mattered.

The clubs, while slightly distasteful, were far from illegal. And if people were enjoying themselves, you weren’t about to play morality police.

In any case, you weren’t in Korea often enough for it to be of any personal consequence.

That is, until you were.

For the foreseeable future, you would remain in Korea.

That’s fine. There’s plenty to do, plenty to see. And if all else fails, at least the food is good.

Of course, it wouldn’t be that simple.

Vivi learnt of your extended stay and immediately invited you to join her for an evening in a private room in the club - her club.

And as much as you would have loved to have declined the offer, you were representation of your father more than anything else. That meant upholding his image and acting in a way that would gain the favour of his business partners.

Which meant that you had to accept invitations as often as possible. Dinner with Crystal Choi, clubbing with Vivi, an uncomfortable meeting with Mitsuki Soma that had no apparent purpose other than bonding time.

So you sucked up all of your complaints and reservations and accepted.

A decision that you came to quickly regret.

****

The evening had started off on a sour note, something that should have been the first sign of the situation being amiss.

You stood outside the club, surveying the small group of people being unceremoniously shoved out onto the pavement.

Repeating your life motto, you sidestepped the growing pile and slipped into the club without being stopped.

It’s not my problem.

The sentiment had lost it’s effect over the years, but you’ve clung to it like the life raft it is - not that you’ve had much of a choice. But there’s only so much you can do. Despite your father’s high social standing and all of the benefits that come with your surname, there are times that you stand as powerless as anyone else.

Truly, social power can only get you so far in life, especially when the only power you hold is in your name. That being said, you weren’t one to intervene in other people’s business, even if there was something you could do.

Regardless, your mind quickly moves on once Vivi catches sight of you and drags you away to a private room, guards surrounding the two of you as you easily cut through the crowds.

The evening carries on with Vivi continuously trying to shove drinks and drugs in your face and you politely declining each time. You’d never found much of an appeal in either.

Not that you had never tried it. No, you’d dabbled in all sorts of otherwise illegal activities. But after a while, it lost its kick, and you decided that rather than fall down that rabbit hole, you’d boot the habit altogether.

And looking at Vivi’s glossed over eyes, drool dripping out of the corner of her mouth, while surrounded by other privileged trust fund babies in a similar state, you were thankful you had.

But the drug induced haze only ever lasted so long for someone like Vivi, and she quickly moved on to another activity once she was somewhat sobered up.

****

It was nearing two in the morning and you were eager to leave, looking for an excuse to slip away.

The perfect opportunity presented itself soon enough. Vivi was half asleep, leaning back in her seat as she came down from her high. She truly was a sight, drool dripping from the corner of her mouth, eyes wide and vacant, her head tilted back as she inspected the ceiling.

You rose quietly, taking a half step towards her before whispering out that you’d be leaving. Honestly, you didn’t think she was even aware enough to register what you’d said.

Expect your words seem to be a wake up call of sorts, and she blinks blearily, staring up at you dumbly. Your words seem to register with her and she hurriedly sits up, nearly tumbling off of her seat.

“No! No you can’t leave yet! I still have one more surprise for you.”

She’s pouting now, seconds away from a sulking session.

That never ends well, so you internally roll your eyes, giving her a hard smile and agreeing to stay.

“Fine, I’ll stay. Now show me this surprise.”

****

You regret asking.

You regret coming to the club.

No, you regret coming to Korea.

Most of all, you regret pretending to be friends with Vivi.

After you had agreed to stay for her so-called surprise, she’d dragged you upstairs, to a large room above the club.

"Vivi," you say, staring blankly ahead.

"Yes? Do you like it? Do you?"

She'd been bouncing around since the two of you entered the room, hopping in place like an excited rabbit.

You wanted to smack her.

"What is this?"

Her shoulders droop.

"Whaaat? You don't like it?"

Her tone is whiny and high pitched, and you feel a throbbing headache begin to build behind your eyes.

"Vivi," you say in a tired tone.

"It's a present, duh. A new toy! Why don't you like it? I can get a different one - oh, do you prefer girls?"

She fixes you with a knowing look.

"I won't judge."

"No, that's not- ugh, never mind. Where did he come from?"

She rambles on, skirting around the point.

You grow tired of her disjointed words and approach the crumpled head on the bed before you. You reach out slowly, gently flipping the man over, and-

Your sprint to the bathroom is panicked, and you barely make it to the toilet in time before you're heaving up your lunch.

****

That man - he'd been drugged out of his mind, he'd had a collar on, as if he was some sort of pet. There'd been a puddle of drool under his face, and his eyes could barely focus on one thing at a time.

But the marks on his body, below the robe.

He wasn't there willingly. Not at all.

There's a knock at the door, and it's swinging open before you can chase them away.

Xiaolung.

"What do you want," you rasp as you lean heavily against the sink, fingers turning white as you grip the edge.

"Vivi was concerned when you ran off - she wanted me to come and check on you."

You scoff, rinsing your mouth and face before taking in a deep breath, calming yourself.

"I'm fine. I'm leaving, please get my coat."

You whisk past him. Or rather, you try to.

He grabs your forearm, fingers flexing against the smooth flesh.

"I'm sorry, but you can't leave yet."

You smack his hand away.

"You don't tell me what to do. I am leaving now."

"No. I'm sorry, but I can't allow it. Vivi will be upset if you leave now, and I cannot let that happen."

You glare up at him.

"Why are you so concerned with her feelings? You're her bodyguard, not her friend."

You see something in his eyes then, barely a flicker, but-

"Oh, give me a break. You love her? Her? Come on. She doesn't see you as anything more than a toy. You're on the exact same level as that man out there."

You roll your eyes and push past him, pausing for the briefest moment.

"People like Vivi and Mitsuki - they don't see see people like you as a people. They see you as tools. Thinking any differently is stupid. Why do you think I hate them so much?"

You leave without another word, waving off the various wait staff and guards as you speed out the building. Placating Vivi would be a problem for the future. For now, you wanted to get as far away from that wretched woman as possible.

Xiaolung stood where you left him, deep in thought.

He knew how Vivi and others like her viewed people like him. He knew that he was beneath her.

But you spoke as if you didn't believe the same thing.

He knew his devotion for her was blind and unbiased, but you - did you think he was worthy of something akin to respect? Did you view him as a person, as someone equal to you?

Regardless, he shouldn't let such thoughts overtake him. They were nothing more than a distraction from his work.

He wiped his mind of the memory of your words and your expression, and set of to find a distraught Vivi. Now he'd have to reassure her that her gift was kind and thoughtful.

****

He could hardly believe his ears.

Your father had bought him? Paid Vivi's father for ownership of him? Truly?

He had believed that his life was over. He'd failed his duty as a bodyguard, returned home with a heavy heart, accepting of his fate.

But to hear that you'd asked your father to bid for his life, to have him join you? That threw him off.

There was a catch. There had to be one.

"No catch. You work under me now."

"I- Very well."

He was prepared for the worst. You couldn't have been worse than Vivi, you couldn't have expected too much, right?

Except you were so... uncaring?

You didn't treat him badly, not by any stretch, quite the opposite. You treated him so normally. You didn't view him as a bodyguard, that much was certain.

For the first time in his life, he was just... there.

There were no expectations, no demands of his time or mind, his only job was to accompany you out in public. You barely left your apartment, so even that was a lax job.

He found himself drifting off in thought a lot, especially since there wasn't much else to do. He sat around your apartment, lounging on the couch or in your office, watching you walk around completing such menial tasks.

You were nothing like Vivi.

As time past, he began to realise that his feelings towards you were veering from appropriate admiration and respect as his employer, to something more perverse, almost obsessive.

His admiration for you, for how sweet and caring and amazing you were, it grew tenfold.

He grew to take his job very seriously. Keeping you safe and happy became his number one priority, one which you made very difficult to achieve.

You brushed off his concerns and scoffed at his caution. You lived in such a nonchalant way, acting as if he were the greatest inconvenience in your life.

He wished you'd listen to his worries, do as he says when he tells you it isn't safe. But shake your head in that disappointed way, looking at him as if you know something he doesn't.

It infuriates him.

It's also something he loves about you.

He chooses to protect you with his life not because it's his job, but because he loves you.

Well, not love.

It's too dirty of a feeling to be described as that.

Sometimes it frightens him - the lengths he's willing to go to, the things he's willing to do to keep you safe and happy.

Back when he worked for Vivi - a time he tried not to think about - he did whatever he was told to without question. He did it without thinking, no feelings or personal emotions involved in his actions.

Now, he does things of his own volition.

And he does it with fiery passion. Each movement is purposeful, made with the sole intention of protecting you.

You take it all in stride, never batting an eye at the intense look in his eyes or his flat tone.

His obsession is clear, though he hardly tries to hide it. Neither of you really seem to care though - you, because you hardly listen to his orders, and Xiaolung, because he rationalises it as him protecting you.

Overall, yandere Xiaolung isn't terrible, but only because you ignore the very obvious red flags. One word from you and most of his overbearing traits fall back for a while.

As long as you ignore his protectiveness and reign him in when he gets carried away, you'll be fine.

#lookism #yandere #dark content #female reader #xiaolung lookism #xiaolung #xiaolung x reader #lookism x reader #yandere xiaolung #yandere xiaolung x reader

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chickenstrangers · 1 year

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Pat's Shirts: An Extended Analysis

Since Bad Buddy's on the brain, I'd like to present an analysis of a show through a Pat's-shirts-centered critical lens.

Literature review: Many very smart people that I will try to link to have analyzed Bad Buddy through this lens already, but I would like to contribute to the discussion, specifically focusing on the iconography and text on the shirts. For great analysis that also incorporates colour, look to @dribs-and-drabbles whole series (x). Thesis statement: Pat's shirts convey his inner thoughts directly to the audience, generally going unnoticed by other characters, like a soliloquy. They provide insight into his emotional state and aspirations as they shift throughout the stages of his narrative arc.

Pran is more reserved about his feelings, and often expresses them through external signs such as the smiley face on his door. Pat can also be interpreted through the same lens, using external signifiers such as t-shirts to show what he is thinking. Pat is so expressive that he needs to literally wear his feelings on his sleeve (or chest).

In the first several episodes, there is a sense of optimism and possibility. In episode 1, Pat wears a shirt that reads "turn up the saturation" while talking with Pa in his old room. He looks over at Pran's house, Pran obviously on his mind. This showcases how things are just getting started. His feelings for Pran have been reignited after seeing him on campus. Pat wants to turn up the saturation in his life, make it more vivid, and already he's connecting that sentiment to Pran.

The feeling of hopefulness continues when Pat wears his Lucky (Charms) shirt. When their friends get into another fight, while Pat's wearing this shirt, his professor tells them they're lucky no one got seriously hurt, but there's more luck at play in this moment; they're lucky that they have found each other and are in each other's lives again. They have their first real conversation while they're patching themselves up, where they decide to work together to stop their friends from fighting and exchange chat IDs. Things are (slowly) starting to come together.

Pat next wears a Tim Hortons shirt from the Smile Cookie charity campaign. This is an interesting adaptation of Pran's signature motif, Pat mirroring the smiley faces that Pran surrounds himself with. Pat wears this shirt when they eat together at the food truck, so the food-related shirt is thematically relevant, especially one associated with sharing and giving. Pat and Pran share food (or more accurately, Pat steals Pran's wonton) but it’s a playful moment that they'll return to later in the show when Pran gets an extra wonton for Pat to steal. The shirt represents Pat's happiness at being close to Pran again, at being back in the game they play.

The optimism embodied in these shirts is also reflected in a shirt that Pat doesn't wear yet, but is instead hinted at. On top of Pat's pile of laundry is another smiley face shirt that he will wear five years later in the finale. Pat holds onto this shirt that represents Pran and his aesthetic, long before they start dating. The teasing of this shirt is the ultimate symbol of optimism, brimming with possibility.

We then move on to Pat's confusion and realization arc. The first shirt I'd like to discuss is the Salome shirt he wears at the photoshoot with Ink. There are two literary and artistic references here: Salome, the biblical story and its adaptations, and Picasso's painting of his close friend Jaime Sabartés.

Picasso painted many portraits of Sabartés, and dedicated many more to him, but this specific painting is from 1939, humorously portraying Sabartés as a sixteenth-century courtier. This might reflect Ink and Pat's relationship in this moment. Ink gives Pat this shirt, putting him into a costume like Picasso did with Sabartés, and there is an interesting juxtaposition between subject and artist at play.

Sabartés recalled about a previous painting, “When he put the painting up on the easel, I was astonished to see myself … the spectre of my solitude, seen from without.” About the 1939 painting, he wrote, "[it] has all the characteristics of my physiognomy, though only the most essential ones. If the way Picasso put them together does not coincide with the way the majority of people see them, this is because, thinking about me, he took them from his memory, with the intention of giving them form in a picture […] while people who look at me directly as I am forget me when they are trying to remember me." (x)

This is reminiscent of the way that Ink seems to knows Pat's feelings maybe more than he knows himself and her lack of surprise that Pat and Pran get along. From her perspective, they have always been friends. As artists, Ink and Picasso see their subjects in a different light. It is in direct relation to Ink that Pat comes to realize his feelings for Pran, by testing out Pa's patented technique. This whole situation discombobulates him, which is captured in Picasso's Cubist style.

The second aspect of the shirt is the biblical story of Salome. @dribs-and-drabbles (x) made the excellent connection between the femme fatale in this story to the faen fatale in Bad Buddy (Ink), although Bad Buddy explicitly subverts this trope. I also find it interesting that one of the most famous adaptations of Salome was written by Oscar Wilde, so some queer connection could be teased out. It is also worth noting that one of the themes of the play is the dangers of looking, especially since the shirt is worn during a photoshoot. Herod begs Salome to free him of his promise, apologizing for looking at her too much: "Neither at things, nor at people should one look. Only in mirrors should one look, for mirrors do but show us masks." Perhaps Pat can also be seen as wearing a mask, one he is not aware he is wearing all the time.

There seems to be little connecting Salome and Picasso that I could find, though both are playing with ideas of historical adaptation, from the biblical play to Sabartés in costume. Bad Buddy also toys themes of the past as Ink is introduced, casting new light both on Pat and Pran's historical relationship and their relationship now.

The next shirt is another one that is given to Pat. Pat borrows the friend/unfriend shirt from Pran when he sleeps over in Pran's room. They are figuring out how to relate to each other, and especially in this scene, how the other feels about Ink. Pat wears this shirt on a "date" with Ink at the food truck, another relationship that he is trying to determine how he feels. The friend/unfriend shirt reflects a pivotal question about Pat and Pran's relationship. They are not friends, but what does that make them instead? What is "unfriend", the negation of friend? Is it enemy? Is it lover? They both desperately need it to be something, to be in each other's lives in some way.

During and after his next "date" with Ink, Pat wears a black shirt with an abstract face on the front. This echoes the Cubist style of the Picasso shirt. However, in this design, the face is even more abstracted, configured with just a few white lines on a black background in unrealistic proportions. Just as the Picasso shirt implied Pat's burgeoning confusion, here he is slammed with the new revelation that he likes Pran as more than a friend. @dribs-and-drabbles pointed out the splash of red right over his heart, signifying his newly discovered feelings (x). This design is stark, impressionistic, boiled down to the bare essentials of a face and disassembled. Pat is taken apart and feeling lost knowing how much he wants Pran. The shirt speaks to the confusion Pat feels in this moment.

The next phase is about yearning and seeking connection. Pat knows how he feels about Pran; he has fallen, and fallen hard. Now that he has discovered this, he changes into the Baseball Mom shirt to tell Pran of his feelings on the rooftop. In this scene, Pat tells Pran he doesn't want them to just be friends, and through his shirt he tells Pran he sees a future with him. The shirt evokes a future of love and family (though not confined to the heteronormative idea of family). It is about closeness and partnership and possibilities.

During the flirt-off, Pat shows up to the Kwan and Riam audition with a blue shirt mostly covered by a burgundy button-up. The only clearly visible words are "YOUR / MAN?" This is a declaration, he wants to be with Pran. He's asking, can I be your man? as @dribs-and-drabbles writes (x). He's almost staking a claim on Pran, but subverts this by instead declaring himself to be Pran's, similar to when he cedes the competition to Pran.

Looking at the text more closely, however, a few words are visible. The shirt has a quote from On the Road by Jack Kerouac: "What's your road, man? - holyboy road, madman road, rainbow road, guppy road, any road. It's an anywhere road for anybody anyhow. Where body how?" Combining the full text and the selective framing visible on screen, Pat seems to be asking to go on this road together, wherever it may lead.

Once Pat and Pran start dating, Pat's shirts reflect the joys and tribulations of a newly established relationship. He wears the "Proud to be a [Noles] Hater" when practicing the play with Pran. Pride is written clearly on his chest, but it also hints to insecurities. Pat is being perhaps too proud for Pran, posting pictures on Instagram and flirting to openly. Moreover, this shirt is a reference to the sports rivalry between the University of Miami and Florida State University, and as the previous scene showed Pat playing rugby, the shirt signals the continuing rivalry between the architecture and engineering faculties. The theme of rivalry is also ever-present in their families' rivalry, which as @dribs-and-drabbles discusses (x), originated with university. This showcases that while Pat and Pran are happy together, there are external forces working against them.

After a tense argument with his father, Pat wears a white shirt with [SELECT] written on the front. In this scene, Pat is asking Pran to choose him—to select him. The framing of the text in square brackets is also reminiscent of a hyperlink or code, perhaps further emphasizing the act of clicking/selecting. He wants comfort from Pran but is unwilling to ask for it directly, to bother him with his problems. Pran hears the unspoken message and comes home to cheer Pat up, prioritizing him.

When Pat gets out of the hospital, Ming surprises them both by thanking Pran for helping Pat get his name cleared. During this scene, Pat wears his California shirt, which @karometeenk has deciphered. To summarize, it is a slogan for a German pharmacy that reads "Here I am human, here I shop" which is a play on the Faust quote which can be translated as "Here I am human, here I can / am allowed to be one" (full credit to @karometeenk for translation and analysis, along with @dribs-and-drabbles and @airenyah's discussion (x) (x) (x). There is something sinister underneath this message. This shirt alludes to Pat's desire to escape, to be free, but also signals the obstacles to this, especially as he wears this when talking to his dad, who seems to be behaving decently, but there will be future complications. The slogan appropriates a quote about one's humanity commodified to sell products, commercializing people's identity. While Pat and Pran are happy together, they cannot yet just be.

The theme of seemingly cheerful shirts with a sinister undertone continues later in the episode. Pat wears a shirt with the words "SUN SUN SUN", reflecting the happiness he feels to be with Pran, as well as directly mirroring Pran's "radiate positivity" rainbow shirt. Together they depict the sun emerging after a period of rain. However, the optimism conveyed by these shirts is undermined by the peril they find themselves in, the danger of getting caught in Pran's father's office and the looming revelations about their families' rivalry that could destroy their relationship. The storm is not yet over.

You may be wondering why I have skipped over a crucial subsection of Pat's wardrobe: his Hawaiian shirts. Fear not! I would like to discuss these shirts collectively, as they convey a similar theme that does not fall neatly into the chronology of the other shirts. They reflect an idea that the show keeps returning to every time Pat wears them. They stand outside of time.

These shirts symbolize hope and yearning, but they are often tainted by a feeling of despair and desperation. Dreams thwarted. These shirts are aspirational for Pat, conveying the sense of peace and freedom that he wants but cannot yet achieve. He often wears them in moments of crisis. In episode 5, Pat wears the blue pineapple shirt when he gets in the fight with Wai. He is seeking clarification about their relationship but winds up in a physical altercation and Pran leaves without giving him any answers.

He wears the Golden Gates Bridge shirt when he gets shot—this was a chance to reconcile their two friend groups, but it ends in disaster. However, in the end, that event literally builds bridges between them (I am including this shirt in this section though it may not be a Hawaiian shirt). The elephant shirt Pat dons in episode 11, as @dribs-and-drabbles has discussed (x), shows Pat wanting to forget, wanting to start anew on the beach with Pran without their families interfering, but the elephants belie this message as elephants never forget.

Pat wears a lot of Hawaiian shirts at the beach, both times. On the first beach trip, there is a feeling of opportunity, now that they have kissed. But at the same time, while Pat wants Pran to open up to him more, Pran is trying to protect himself. The beach symbolizes a chance at freedom, a chance to be open about their feelings. It makes sense that Pat would wear these shirts there. Except they are not confined to the beach, they traverse space and time.

I'd like to look specifically at the shirt Pat wears when he runs away. He is wearing it when his dad finds them together at the mall, and during the confrontation with both their parents. Here in the city it seems out of place, but it reflects Pat's desperation to love Pran freely, to escape the restrictions being placed on them. And then they do escape to freedom, to the beach where there is hope that they can be together, and Pat continues to wear the shirt. It depicts a dream that seems so close to being realized.

When they get back home, Pat is once again wearing the shirt he wore when they ran away. Nothing has really changed, despite their temporary escape, the same problems with their families persist. The repetition of the shirt brings this message home. But it also an interesting choice for both of them to wear the same shirts, it feels intentional. Like a disguise. They are going home, pretending that nothing has changed, that they broke up, but are keeping the truth hidden.

The shirt Pat wears in the finale is a callback to the first episode when we saw it in Pat's laundry basket. Pat has incorporated Pran's style into his own, reflecting smiles back at him. He wears it in front of his family, a hidden signal of their relationship. This shirt shows that the optimism of before paid off, that they can achieve the open-ended future they are fighting for. That there is hope.

#bad buddy #on this rewatch i analyzed the show using 2 critical lenses #1. literary allusions and queer theory #and 2. pat's shirts #how is this the longer meta of the 2 i wrote this weekend? it was supposed to be a joke #sometimes i just like to have thoughts recreationally #bad buddy series #bad buddy meta #bad buddy shirts #thinking thoughts #thai drama fashion #bad buddy the series

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ships-to-sail · 3 months

Text

All my love to @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @kiwiana-writes, and @firenati0n for the tags — my mental health took an absolute plummet this week, but hey. I have words for you guys! And, as I *sure* will shock you at this point, they're WW2 AU words!

I'll put my tags up after the cut, as per usual, but I wanna really extend an offer to new folks, shy folks, and under the radar folks who are tempted to take up the open tag. This fandom has SO many amazing writers, but please don't think there's not enough applause for all of us tinkerbells to survive, okay?

That being said! Who wants an ice-cream? 🍦😏

“Thank you, Alex,” Henry says, reaching out for the paper-wrapped waffle cone if only to stop the nervous flow of words from Alex’s mouth. “...what is it?”

“English toffee,” Alex says with a mischievous smile and a wiggle of his eyebrows, and Henry can’t stop the laugh that rings out of his chest. Henry has never liked toffee, has come to associate it with his grandmother, crystal-cut bowl on her desk, her sharp fingers the only one to ever lift the lid and pluck a golden brown square from the top of the pile. But it’s fascinating to feel a memory being rewritten inside yourself as it happens, the cold vanilla ice-cream making the toffee crunch and crack beneath his back teeth, the sticky mass filling the space of his molars as he follows the first bite up with a second, and then a third, pushing the bitter memory of lack out for a sweeter memory wrapped in waffle-cone abundance. He eats it far faster than he should, far too fast for it to be anything but embarrassing. “Sorry,” he mutters through the final mouthful, but as he balls up the paper wrapping from his cone and meets Alex’s eyes again, it’s not judgment he sees reflected back at him.

Alex’s gaze has darkened, ambered honey transformed into something more closely resembling peat, and he’s trying and failing to look anywhere but at Henry’s mouth.

@affectionatelyrs @anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @cultofsappho @daisymae-12 @dumbpeachjuice @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @lizzie-bennetdarcy @myheartalivewrites @notspecialbabe @orchidscript @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged

#red white & royal blue #six sentence sunday #ships stories #bugle boy of company b

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pluviophile-imagines · 2 years

Note

Give ✋🏻✋🏻✋🏻✋🏻

Extended argument from this drabble, which i cut for length; reader is gn but implied to be shorter than alhaitham (tho not smaller or by any significant amount)

“You stole my book.”

Your voice echoes in the vast, airy private room Alhaitham has squirreled himself away within. He remains silent where he sits in a plush chair, piles of similar books around him, and your footsteps are sharp as you approach.

“Nothing to say for yourself?” You cross your arms as you finally get close.

He doesn’t look up from the scroll he’s reading. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re not even reading it, asshole.” You wave towards where the one you’re searching for lays, unopened, atop a stack nearly to your waist. His gaze follows your hand and he gives a little grunt of acknowledgement when he sees what you’re talking about, as if he hasn’t been acutely aware of what you wanted the moment you walked in.

“And when will you return to your actual research, then, instead of this little sidetrack?”

You pause. “I’ve been researching.”

Eyes sliding back to you, he tilts his head just barely, and you can see on his face that you won’t be getting the book—no, he’s decided to pick a fight. “Nothing of importance to your thesis.”

“Celestia’s sake, Alhaitham, I’m not doing this with you today. Give me the book.”

“How many times must I tell you that the Akademiya does not exist for your selfish, ever-changing whi—“

You lunge for it, entirely certain you’ll fail, and you do—he’s launching himself out of the chair faster than you can blink, grabbing you by the waist to slow you down just enough for him to snatch your book from the top of his pile before you can. His touch has your breath hitching, your mind acutely aware of how thick his arms feel around you and the warmth of his broad chest against your back.

Just as quickly, though, he’s gone. Those arms yank away from the hold on you like they’ve been burned as he raises to his full height behind you. Whatever lingering fluster you’d still been feeling is replaced swiftly by rage.

“You’re so childish,” you hiss, spinning around to face him. “Just give it to me.”

“Unfortunately I need it for my own research, which is why the librarians released it despite you hoarding it from others.“

“Hoarding it? That’s rich coming from the man who used his title to steal the book I asked them to hold for me just to piss me off.”

Those eyes narrow at you. “I would never abuse my authority as Scribe of the Akademiya in such a way.”

“Bite me,” you snarl, and instead of snapping back he casts his gaze aside. His jaw flexes, mouth pursed with a suppressed something you dare not think about.

“If you truly need this book so desperately,” Alhaitham begins, slow like he’s only just thought about it, “perhaps I would be more amenable if you asked politely.”

“I asked politely in the first place, you picked this fight.”

“I’d hardly call storming into my study room and making demands polite.”

Huffing, even less convinced you could possibly succeed, you make another attempt at grabbing your necessary research material that fails entirely when he just lifts his arm above his head and behind him. You end up stumbling into him instead, all but falling onto him, and pull back to save yourself the embarrassment of him having to catch you.

Though you don’t put too much distance between the pair of you. You remain close enough to lift a hand and poke your finger against his chest.

“Give. Me. The book.” You punctuate each word with a prod, rising further up on your toes every time. He stares down at where you’re touching him, then lifts his chin as he meets your eye and raises the book even higher, the corner of his mouth curling up just slightly in the hint of a smirk.

“I might consider it if you begged.”

“Wh— you—” You sputter for a moment before using the hand already at his chest to shove him away, acutely aware of the heat blooming on your face, not entirely registering how he uses the momentum of your push to fall back into the chair you’d found him in. “You’re impossible.”

And with that you turn to storm off.

#ask.🌧#haruchiyos #anon #mine.🌧#char.🌧 alhaitham #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader

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oversizedsweaterss · 5 months

Text

dysphoric

pavitr prabhakar x trans masc!reader

summary: pavitr comes over to your place and ends up comforting you after a rough day

genre: hurt/comfort and a sprinkle of romance

warnings: mentions/depictions of dysphoria, light swearing, transphobia (use of the t-slur, mentions of deadnaming and misgendering)

a/n: this is based off a short drabble from my ao3 but i decided to extend upon it here. you can read the original here. also there might be some spelling mistakes

Hot tears rush down my face.

“Why do things have to be like this? Why?” I whisper to myself, holding onto your pillow for any bit of comfort that it can possibly bring.

“I hate this, I hate feeling like this” I lay on my side, still tightly holding my pillow as if there’s no tomorrow. My cold sheets slowly engulf me while I lay down, my hot tears in contrast continue to slide down my face.

Once you hit rock bottom there’s no other place to go than up I think to myself in an attempt to distract myself from the waves of emotions crashing down on me. Still upset but a bit calmer, I sit up and go look at myself in the mirror and am met with puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

“I’m such a fucking mess” I scoff at myself and get some tissues to catch the remainder of my tears and wipe off my face. I toss the tissue in the trash and turn my sink on, splashing my face with cold water and grabbing a small towel soon after to wipe my face off.

Soon afterwards, I hear a light tap on my window from a rock. Immediately I know who it is and take a few breaths, try and put on a happy and nonchalant face as I walk over to my window.

“Pav I swear you’re going to break my window one of these days!” I yell as he swings up onto the roof

“Hey don’t yell too loud! It’s called a secret identity for a reason!” He whisper-yells at me as I laugh at him and let him in.

I close the window and he takes off his mask. I kick the piles of assorted books and dirty jackets under my bed, I swear I would have cleaned up if I knew that he was coming over today. He lightly chuckles at my efforts but still maintains his bright smile.

“So, I was thinking maybe we could hangout tonight! Just going around the town, you could swing around with me!” He states cheerfully. Although I start to feel a bit uncertain about going out, after being upset I just want to stay home.

“What’s wrong? We can do something you’d like instead!” He quickly reassures me after picking up on me being a bit weary about going out

“No, it's fine. I was just thinking about staying home tonight but we can go out if you want” I try to reassure him and play it off

“Mmm, something up with you. What’s up?” Pavitr senses and takes a seat with me on my bed

Just thinking about it leaves a knot in my throat. I want to speak but can’t, so I just look at him and give him a hug. Immediately, he hugs me back and rubs my back in circles. My eyes start watering and I’m met with that familiar feeling of warm tears streaming down my face, my breathing changes as I try to hold back my sobs.

“Shhh, don’t worry. Everything’s gonna be okay” Pavitr whispers into my ear, holding me a bit tighter and continuing to rub my back lovingly.

My breathing calms down slowly and my tears start to leave soon after. I wipe my eyes with my hands a few times and let go of the hug. There’s a small bit of silence followed afterwards and Pavitr holds my hand.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks in a gentle tone, a bit afraid to make eye contact.

I deeply inhale and hold his hand back a bit tighter.

“Today was just, rough” I say

“My clothes felt weird on me, and then these stupid kids kept misgendering me and deadnaming me and everything just piled up inside” I continue, scooting a bit closer to him

Pavitr was upset, thoughts raced through his head. How dare those kids misgender him! Who do they think they are?

Pavitr wraps his arm around my shoulder and holds me close, unsure what to say but hoping his actions can express his sympathy.

“I’m sorry about that, you don’t deserve any of that” he says while trying to think of something better for him to say, maybe something more sympathetic.

“It’s okay Pav-” I try and say

“But it’s not! They shouldn’t be doing or saying stuff like that! You deserve to be happy and be yourself!” He exclaims

“I know Pav, there’s not anything to do about it though. If I do tell anyone like a teacher they just end up getting a slap on the wrist and keep doing it.” I explain back

A light bulb goes off inside Pavitr’s head, he is Spiderman afterall so why not bring justice to the people? He would never say anything about him doing something to bullies though.

Pavitr continues to comfort me and rubs my shoulder before getting up.

“How about we go get some fresh air? Maybe some ice cream along the way too?” Pavitr puts on his mask again and opens the window

“Sure” I chuckle and playfully roll my eyes, following him towards my window.

Once we’re both on the rooftop, I hold onto him as he wraps one of his arms around me.

“Wait” I say and he stops, looking at me

“Just don’t like drop me or anything” I say as we both laugh it off

I put my arms back around him and he holds me close again, not without a kiss on my forehead. He shoots one of his webs and we go swinging throughout the town. I stop at an ice cream shop to get us both some ice cream.

Shit.

It’s almost comical how right after I told Pavitr about me being bullied, my bullies are inside the ice cream shop where I’m getting us ice cream. I try to make this as quick as possible without getting noticed by any of them. I wait in line and try to make myself as unnoticeable as possible.

“Two chocolate scoops, both waffle cones please” I say with a smile and the cashier goes to get them ready.

Right afterwards I start to hear whispers. ‘Oh look, she's here.’ and ‘Tranny’ among other comments. I just bite my tongue and try to ignore them. I politely grab the cones and I walk out. A light summer air hits my face that contrasts with the cold ice cream shop’s air conditioning into an alley near the street.

Pavitr swings down to grab me and the ice cream. We walk on the roof of the ice cream shop and sit down in a spot not easily viewable from the street, he takes his mask off and we both begin eating our ice cream together. He looks at me and I pause for a second to look at him, both of us smiling like dorks at each other.

“Sorry for staring, you’re just really handsome”

#pavitr x reader #pavitr prabhakar #pavitr x you #atsv pavitr #spiderverse pavitr #atsv #pavitr my beloved #pavitr prabhakar fanfic #hurt/comfort #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse fanfic #spiderman

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openheartfanfics · 1 year

Text

Newly Added Fics

Dec 24 - 30, 2022

BRYCE X F!MC/F!OC

All I Want - @storyofmychoices ☁🎄

Bryce has a little surprise for Olivia.

ETHAN X F!MC/F!OC

A Special Gift - @genevievemd ☁🎄

Gen and Ethan have a special gift for their parents on Christmas morning. [Pregnancy]

Bad Dream - @cariantha ☁

Sawyer has a nightmare while Ethan is out of town and despite the distance he is able to bring her comfort in the sweetest way. TW: Mental health issues

Christmas Tree Traditions - @liaromancewriter ☁🎄

Decorating the Christmas Tree is a chance to create new traditions. [Domestic; Extended Family]

From Hell With Love - @theinvisibledreamergirl 🎭

Klaw’s inner thoughts. TW: Mental health issues.

(Further) Trials & Tribulations - @utterlyinevitable 📚

[extended: wip] Drabbles of what happened immediately following Trials & Tribulations. Feat. Bryce Lahela [Hurt/Comfort]

Part 1: A Little bit of sunshine [Amazon]

Part 2: Let the light in TW: Mentions of depression

Muddling Through…Somehow - @txemrn 📚🎄Ⓜ

[mini: wip] With a massive car pile-up on Christmas Ever, it’s all hands on deck at Edenbrook–including the Ramseys who are assigned to care for a Jane Doe and her young daughter. TW: Medical discussions, including mild blood and gore, pregnancy, surgery; innuendos; some characters lives will be put in jeopardy

Part 2: Jane Doe

Peppermint Lattes - @alwaysmychoices ☁🎄

Stuck in Boston by herself for Christmas, Charlie is cold and homesick, and she receives a surprising gift from her austere attending...

Snow Wars - @jamespotterthefirst ☁❄

The Ramseys face off against the Carricks and Lahelas in an epic snowball fight. Feat. Tobias Carrick x F!OC, Bryce Lahela x F!OC

Surprise - @ethanramseytwilight ☁

Ethan finally proposes to his 'special someone'. [Proposal]

The Best Present - @liaromancewriter ☁🎄

It’s his first Christmas as a married man, and Ethan reflects on how he got here. [Ethan POV]

The Best Present - @potionsprefect ☁🎄

Victoria and Ethan exchange Christmas presents.

The Very First Christmas - @cryomyst ☁🎄

Set on Christmas Day in Book 1, a continuation of A Gift for Naveen. Feat. Platonic Ethan, F!MC, Naveen Banerji, M!OC

‘Tis the Damn Season - @genevievemd 📚📷 [extended: wip] A look into the final eight months of Ethan and Gen’s first year of marriage.

December - Part 3

Your Midnights - @genevievemd ☁🎇

Two New Years, four years apart. [Ethan POV]

NAVEEN BANERJI

The Very First Christmas - @cryomyst ☁🎄

Set on Christmas Day in Book 1, a continuation of A Gift for Naveen. Feat. Platonic Ethan, Naveen Banerji, M!OC

TOBIAS X F!MC

For His Girls - @jerzwriter ☁🎄

The girls want to have a nice holiday party, just like those Mommy & Daddy have been attending. So they ask Daddy to make it happen. [Domestic; Family]

SUBMIT OPEN HEART FICS & WRITERS HERE

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfics #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction #choices fanfics #bryce lahela #bryce lahela x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #tobias carrick #tobias carrick x mc #naveen banerji #newly added fics

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doevademe · 2 years

Note

I was having a really bad day, so I can't tell you how much better your little drabble with kid Niko made me feel (reading fluff always manages to lift my spirit !) Can I selfishly ask you to extend the fluff and continue on that drabble till sarcastic Nico s back (hope he appreciated the gift as much as I loved reading about it 💜).

"No, Percy!" Nico scolded, taking the card from his field and back to his hand. "You can't play Tears of the Sea unless there's an Oceanid in your discarded pile!"

Percy chuckled a bit and showed him his cards.

"I don't know what else to play, though, you'll win next turn unless I buff my Hippocampus."

"That's because you aren't reading the descriptions! What you need to do is..."

After he had answered many of Nico's questions (Only the ones with PG answers, though. Nico was way too precocious), they had streamed some cartoons and even flown a bit with Blackjack.

His plan had been to tire Nico out, give him some McDonald's and put him to bed, but Nico had always been a bit of a Wild card.

The eleven year old refused to go to sleep at bedtime, and had instead decided to do a Mythomagic tournament bewtween the decks he knew and the new ones he had bought over the years but didn't know due to being deaged.

They were on round 4, with Percy using the Oceanus Deck and Nico having one for the Fates, and Percy was slowly losing it.

"Okay, but if I win, this is the last one, okay?" He said once Nico had finished planning his turn.

"You won't win, but deal!" Nico said happily. Percy sighed.

He played his turn exactly as Nico said, and he countered perfectly. Percy drew his card and smiled.

"I play Maritime Chariot," he said. "And use Divine of the Deep to move Oceanus to the main field."

"Wait! Moving your Patron undoes your field protection!" Nico protested.

"I don't need it, because I can end this by discarding my Hippocampus and activating Maritime Chariot's effect."

Nico's eyes widened. Nico, older Nico, had taught him that move when he got particularly tired of losing every time. It was an all or nothing attack that let Percy go for Nico's Patron directly.

It had many counters, but Kid Nico wasn't familiar with the deck and hadn't set up anything. Percy ruffled his hair after he hesitantly toppled his Patron figurine.

"Good game," he said. Nico pouted.

"Were you letting me win all this time?" He asked. "You're a horrible future boyfriend, Percy!"

"You won legitimately," he said. "I just used what you taught me for this particular deck."

"Then technically, I win, right?" Nico said slyly. "It's my strategy, after all!"

"Nico, it's 11 PM. It's time to go to bed," Percy groaned. "Don't you want to wake up all grown up and be able to kiss me good morning?"

That was one of the few things that had bummed Nico out. He would only be allowed to kiss Percy after he had returned to normal.

Nico mumbled something so low Percy didn't hear it.

"What was that?" He asked.

"I'm scared," Nico admitted. "You said I... I changed a lot as a grown up... what if I become someone I don't like?"

Percy felt his heart melt. He opened his arms and hugged Nico once he approached.

"You are the most caring, giving person I know, Nico," he said. "You are not as hyperactive, true, but you also are the person I chose to date. Do you think I have bad taste, Nico?"

"...No," the boy said. Percy thanked the gods that Nico idolized him in this stage. "Things... they are always changing. One moment it's the 30s, then not. One moment I'm in a school, then at camp. One moment I'm a child, and then—"

"You are a wonderful grown up," Percy finished for him. "Come on, let's brush our teeth and then to bed."

"A-are we... s-sharing?" Nico stuttered, face all red.

"Of course," he said easily. "I can't have my morning kiss if we don't."

Nico meep'ed and followed behind him.

----

He was woken up by a kiss. Percy opened his eyes and groaned for a few seconds before smiling at his fiance.

"Morning, handsome," he said, voice still slurred by sleep.

"Remind me to never take a quest from Hebe again," he said instead of greeting back. Percy chuckled. "But... it was a fun experience. You made my kid self's day."

"That was kind of the plan, once I saw you all small and cute."

"You'll be an amazing father one day," he said seriously.

"We'll be amazing one day," Percy corrected. "Once we figure out how."

Nico kissed him again. Percy was all too happy to respond.

#Percico #my writing #fluff #ask #anonymous #writing prompt #hope you had a better day today!

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white-boy-bracket · 1 year

Note

I would like to request more showrunner drabbles? perhaps. perhaps what she thinks of the narrator? (no pressure at all though!)

Fascinating!! The #butlersweep was intended for old bad writing, but this will do as well! Everyone go vote for Butler to unlock either old bad writing or LORE. Okay so this kind of got away from me. she hasn't discovered the narrator yet but she's about to. this is her approaching the cabin. I'm capping this 'chapter' here, but i'm gonna continue it immediately this is just kinda long. maybe send another ask just like 'put it here'?

She brought two of her guards with her as she exited the arena. She didn't normally leave the arena- there were more of them then there were of her, she knew- but these circumstances were extenuating, to say the least.

They flanked her as she stepped out of the arena into the light of day. Her heavy, woolen cloak- necessary for the environment required to do her... thing, was no help in the bright spring sun. The heat beat down on her, and the pink satin lining- invisible from the outside, yes, but she knew it was there, and that's what mattered- did nothing to cool her.

But she couldn't risk showing her face, as beautiful as it was. It wouldn't do to allow her contestants to know her identity. Knowledge was power, and she alone could have the power in this little contest.

And yet they had pulled one over on her. Not her boys, specifically, but that audience! Sneaking things in! Taking advantage of her generosity! The nerve.

The heels of her bright pink heels sank into the soft, grassy dirt as she walked. Sighing, she bent to take them off and handed them to a guard. ("Hold these." "Sure thing, [OMITTED]!" "Don't say my name around the boys." "Sure thing!") Not wanting to dirty her feet (and ruin her bright pink pedicure) she stepped lightly as she continued in the direction of the log cabin in the distance.

She was quite proud of the cabin. She'd designed it herself- not that it was very complicated, but you know. It was a pet project. One that hadn't yet backfired like the competition had. But she wasn't done.

The cabin itself was tall and wide. There were two floors- or rather, one floor and a loft. The main floor was lovely- though she was biased. Couches, a big TV, a dining table on one side, and a conversation pit with lots of space for all of them to play games. Lovely. This tournament was supposed to be lovely.

The loft was, well, a loft. There was both a ladder and a small, winding set of stairs (for Firestar and Buzz types) that led up to the loft, which in itself contained a library of bunk beds, enough for each white boy to have his own. The loft wasn't much, but it was comfortable.

The last time she'd seen the cabin was before the contestants began arriving, when she was making sure everything was in order. That had been nearly a month ago. And now, nearing the cabin, she could already tell it was going to be very, very different.

There was a truck- a shipping truck, not quite a semi but not quite not- the back doors over and absolutely spilling over with lunchables. they covered the ground outside in a big pile! And there were more in the truck! She scowled, and held a hand out to one of the guards, who obligingly returned her shoes. She slipped them back on, and then walked to the door. She nodded to a guard, who banged thrice on the door with his pole-arm (she did have them dress as medieval knights- both to conceal their collective identity, and for a bit of whimsy). That was just a warning. She didn't intend on waiting for someone to answer.

She extended a hand towards the (black) doorknob, admiring the way her (pink) nails looked against it.

Then she turned the knob and flung the door open.

The cabin was nothing like she had left it.

#white boy lore #white boy cabin #white boy fanfiction #the showrunner

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venusiangguk · 3 years

Note

I would cry if you made a mini drabble or comment on how dilf Jk and OC are doing. Are they still together?

the art of wanting drabble: gardening and pool day with dilf jk and baby nari

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc

>>genre: strangers to lovers / fwb / fluff

>>rating: PG

>>word count: 1.2k, drabble

>>warnings: not much, mentions of alcohol, implied smut, cutest baby ever

>>notes: just a lil update on the favorite not-so-couple couple and the apple of their eye, little nari <3

>>summary: nari plays in the dirt while jk gardens and you make a bet.

The blender was very fancy and had a lot of buttons, but alas, you made due and are now stepping out into the backyard, hands full of watermelon juice. Two with just a pinch of the rum you found in the built in wine cooler by the dishwasher, one with a spill proof lid.

It's your day off from the god forsaken grocery store, and the sun is beating hot outside, but the light breeze makes it bearable. The pool a little ways away gets more and more tempting as the heat sends waves to your bare arms and back. The bikini top you’re wearing basically useless as protection from the sun.

Good thing you’ve got a certain someone to sunscreen your back for you.

Jeongguk is shirtless, his sleeve on full display. His long hair is being held back by a baseball cap, and he’s got his gardening gloves on. You watch as he uses the back of his tattooed arm to wipe at some of the sweat dripping down the side of his face. He looks sunkissed and just edible.

You reign your thoughts in however when your eyes move next to him.

Little Nari is sat on a small blanket with a portable umbrella keeping her in a small patch of cool shade, her little toes dangling off the edge and digging into the small pile of soil that Jeongguk provided her to play in. He even put a few weeds and some of the flowers that were on their last few days of life into the mix. Nari digs one out with her pudgy little hands and squeals as she raises her hand for her dad to see.

Jeongguk, the ever doting father, takes in his baby and laughs when he sees that her overly large sun cap has fallen into her eyes. He adjusts it on her head, and you hear him give a playful gasp as you get closer.

“Oh so pretty, little flower,” he coos, “Is that for me?”

Nari snatches her hand away from him. “Nuuuuw, Da,” she shakes her head with so much force her whole little body jiggles, her round tummy on display in a tiny bikini of her own.

You smile to yourself and you take a seat with Nari on her blanket, stealing a bit of her shade. You hand Jeongguk his drink with a soft grin, and he smiles back at you, soft and sweet as he takes the glass.

“Oooh look what ___ brought for us,” he says, to Nari, “What do you say?”

Nari whips her head around to you like she didn’t notice you sit right next to her. She giggles, baby gurgles sounding in the backyard air. She claps her hands as she smiles at you her round doe-eyes squeezing shut in glee. That’s when she seems to remember the small blossom in her hand.

Her eyes go wide and her mouth parts in a small ‘o’ before she extends the flower to you.

“Buuu?”

You bend down to her level, and she tucks the flower into your hair as best she can with her baby motor skills and then wacks at her dad’s knee.

Jeongguk glances over at you as you grab a nearby watering can and use it to clean Nari’s hands before handing her her juice. She suckles on the sippy straw until she absolutely has to stop, gasping and taking deep breaths before getting right back to her sweet treat.

Her dad glances between her and you trying to figure out why his daughter tried to get his attention. His face falls and he gives a playfully annoyed expression.

“You know,” he starts, “Maybe Daddy wants a flower every once in a while.”

Nari is unbothered as she fists her sippy cup in one hand and the other goes right back into the dirt.

You giggle as you sip your drink and then lean back some, resting on your free hand. “You have the prettiest flower all to yourself already,” you say, nodding in Nari’s direction.

Jeongguk’s face softens, and he goes from looking at you to his little baby. He laughs quietly as he pinches her tummy. She giggles and some watermelon juice dribbles down her chin, unable to swallow before getting attacked by her daddy’s tickles.

Her hiccuping babbles and baby giggles are contagious, and you can’t help but join along. Nari puts up with her dad’s pestering for a good amount of time before she screeches and holds up a tiny dirt covered hand, as if saying ‘stop’.

“Nuw, Da,” she babbles. She’s getting closer and closer to talking as the days pass, even in the short months that you’ve been coming around, she’s already made progress.

Jeongguk’s eyes shine with laughter as he nods, a closed lipped smile holding in his own giggles. “Oh, okay, sorry,” he tells her, flicking his eyes to you before back to Nari, “Carry on, the weeds aren’t gonna pull themselves Miss Nari,” he gestures to her pile of dirt. Nari nods, a diligent little weed puller indeed.

“Hey,” you whisper after a few moments, the both of them back to work, “Gguk.”

He turns to you, a question on his face. You don’t respond right away, just smile at him and he gives in, leaning back and angling himself towards you. Nari sat between your bodies, in front of you.

He’s resting on his elbow, his upper half in the shade with you. He smiles up at you lazily. “What’s up?”

You glance at Nari making sure she’s distracted, and then you flip his cap so it’s backwards, before placing a small hand onto his hot, red face. You angle him towards you and it warms your heart at just how easily he goes with you and lets his eyes fall shut, already knowing what’s about to happen.

You kiss him softly, before deepening the kiss just a bit before pulling away. He tastes sweet like watermelon, slightly salty from the sweat on his upper lip.

He hums, eyes still closed a soft smile still on his mouth. “What was that for?”

You pat his cheek and flip his hat back around. “Just because,” you say quietly. Then you wrinkle your nose. “You’re so sweaty.”

He nods, unashamed. “Working hard.”

You glance at the tempting pool. “Why don’t we ever go in there?”

He hums. “Nari doesn’t like the water, and I don’t do anything without her.”

A little idea forms in your head. “I bet if I go in, she’ll go in.”

Jeongguk raises an eyebrow. “Wanna bet?”

You nod. “I win, we… you know,” you raise your eyebrows at him. He blushes a little, but a ghost of a smile dances on his lips. “You win, we still… you know.”

He gives you a knowing look, plucks his gardening gloves off before he uses the arm he’s not leaning on to reach over and adjust the flower Nari put in your hair, tucking it behind your ear. “Are you sure you can be quiet enough while we… you know?”

With an excited grin you nod and run to the outside pool shed to grab Nari’s floaties. That baby will be a little mermaid by the time the sun goes down.

~~~

aha!! a little drabble to update you guys on dilf jk, since he do be living in our heads rent free. so to answer the q: they are together but not together together. i have a longer one shot in my brain that includes more plot and actual smut, but idk when i'll get around to writing it so hopefully this will hold u guys over till then !! sry for the blue balls, but just so u know jk had to cover oc's mouth and he might've scolded her while they were... you know... "I thought I told you to be quiet?" :o ok byee

also i hope u like it :) if u did, pls do all the things: like, reblog, comment, share, send an ask~~ as always i love hearing ur thoughts and talking to u :*

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armin-supremacy · 2 years

Text

f*cked-up (ending two - drabble)

pairing: mammon x gn!mc

genre: angstttt

prompt: after being stood up, mammon tries to make it up to mc the only way he knows best.

find pt one -> here

find ending one -> here

“Another one?”

Asmodeous let out a small laugh as he entered your room carrying a gift. You closed the door behind you with a groan as he set it on the massive pile of other gifts you’ve received but placed into a corner of your room. I mean, you didn’t have anywhere to put them, so you had to make do.

Since the incident where Mammon blew your first date, he had been sending you gifts nearly every other day in hopes of making it up to you. From lavish clothes to jewels to items fueling your favorite hobby, you name it, he had gotten it.

It was becoming a problem. And frankly, irritating you.

You appreciated it at first, you really did. But now it won’t stop. It was getting suffocating.

You didn’t want gifts. You didn’t want material things. You wanted Mammon and Mammon alone. You wanted him making an effort to spend time with you. You wanted to do something together, something you could both enjoy.

“How is he still able to afford all this when Lucifer cut off his card?” Asmodeous questioned with a huff. You shook your head.

“Your guess is as good as mine, Asmo.” You threw yourself back onto your bed with a loud sigh. “Why hasn’t it stopped?!”

Asmodeous took a seat next to you. “Did you talk to him about it?”

“I figured he’d get the hint!”

Asmosdeous gave you a look. “Oh honey, this is Mammon. The biggest idiot in all the realms.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but could only let out a loud groan as a knock sounded at your door. “Yes?”

Satan peaked inside, holding out another gift. “I think this may be for you.”

You fell silent for a moment. “Alright, that’s it.”

You stood, marching your way past Satan. “You go MC! Set him straight!” Asmodeous cheered for you.

You didn’t bother knocking, walking into Mammon’s room. He jumped in his laying position on his bed causing his phone to clumsily fall from his hand, startled at the sudden intrusion only to see it was just you. “Oh, MC! Did you get the-”

You cut him off quickly. “Yes I got it. I got everything.”

Mammon smiled. “Perfect! Once again, the Great Mammon succeeds in extending his lavish lifestyle.”

“Mammon, stop with the gifts.” You got straight to the point. Mammon furrowed his brows. He sat up so he could look at you properly.

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s getting out of hand”, you stated. “I don’t want all these material things. I just want...you.”

Mammon stared at you for a moment before letting out a chuckle. “Ah! You almost got me, MC!”

Is he serious right now? You faltered. You watched as he laid back onto his bed, continuing whatever he was doing on his phone. You don’t know what hurt more now. Him standing you up, or him thinking you’re genuinely so materialistic that quality time with him is laughable. And frankly, it set you off. How dare he!

You walked over, taking the phone from his hand. “Aye!”

“I’m serious Mammon!” You said. “I’m sick of getting all these gifts! All I care about and want is you!” You couldn’t stop yourself. You had made it clear multiple times prior to this. You tried to be as gentle as possible about it, hoping that he’d understand.

“You said you wanted more!” Mammon said. It came out almost accusingly. Like it was YOUR fault he was sending all these lavish and expensive things. His expression was almost a scowl, his temper suddenly getting the best of him.

"I wanted more with YOU!” You shouted. Your face was turning red in anger. “I wanted your time! Your hugs, your stupid jokes, your overbearing pick up lines! I just wanted time together!”

“Why didn’t you just tell me instead of getting pissed off?!” Mammon stated. You stopped. This wasn’t the Mammon you had loved, the one who’s attention and love you craved. What the hell happened?

Angry tears stung your eyes. “You know what, Mammon?” You finally said.

“What?”

“Everyone was right”, You began bitterly. “I should have never expected anything different from you.”

And before Mammon could register the words that left your mouth, you left. It was then that you let your walls up. And you weren’t going to let them back down for a long time.

------

i had never written TWO endings so needless to say, i was very excited to experiment with this!

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me mammon #mammon x mc #mammon x reader

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echo-of-sounds · 3 years

Text

comfort

Small drabbles of you comforting Toshi, Fatgum, and Gang Orca.

Sorry about the late upload. I wanted to get something out today, so I took a little extra time to finish this. Also, I hope you guys have a Happy New Year! Be safe if you’re doing anything tonight!

Yagi Toshinori

“Can we not watch this right now?”

“Uh, sure. Do you suddenly not enjoy The Evening Hero Gossip?” you asked. Toshi usually caught up on the city’s news and gossip as he wound down from his day. Right now, he was grimacing, subtly rubbing his side under the blanket. The small action caused regret over your taunting tone.

“No, I don’t.”

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to tease you.”

“No, no, you didn’t do anything, sweetheart,” he falsely assured. His hand moved from his side to your thigh, giving it a loving pat. The weight still haunted his shoulders. It was identical to the weight he carried during his self-blaming, heavyhearted periods. “I’d rather watch a movie or something less bleak with dinner.”

You put the remote down, set aside your stir-fry, and faced him. “Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Toshi, I can tell something’s wrong. Did something happen today?” You nodded to his covered injury.

The fingers on your thigh clenched. He looked around the room, seemingly to find a way to move on. You cradled his hand and brought it to your lips. The kiss softened his stifling. Another one slumped his shoulders. A silent minute later, he sighed, “They said… One woman made a comment. I know she didn’t mean anything by it, and I know she wouldn’t intentionally insult me, but it was still discouraging.”

“What did she say?”

“They were talking about which Heroes are the most handsome, who’d be the best boyfriend, things like that.” He kneaded his eyes. You kissed his knuckles, knowing where this was heading. “One woman said I wasn’t much anymore since I lost my powers. She said I wasn’t attractive.”

“What?”

“Please, don’t get angry. She didn’t mean it. I’m sure… It was just one of those comets that blurt out before you realize how it could come across.”

“Did she at least apologize on Tv or social media or something?” The answer came as his hand retracting from yours and him sinking into the couch. You gently crawled onto his lap, letting him tuck into your neck. While you spoke, you brushed his hair, “Then it doesn’t matter her intentions. She needs to apologize. And I am angry at her.”

A faint laugh tickled your skin. Arms snaked around you, clasping behind to cling close. “You’re handsome, Toshi. You really are. I’m not just saying that cause we’re dating-” You kissed his forehead. “-Your jawline and eyelashes are worth killing for.”

His head lifted. “I thought you said my eyes were the best.”

“I did. They’re beautiful. But your jawline is just amazing,” you mumbled against the divine bone, sucking and nipping him. “Besides, you’re my boyfriend. That woman doesn’t get to see how sweet you are to me.”

His nose nudged yours. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I just love you. You’re caring and loving and attentive and thoughtful and empathetic-”

Toshi’s lips on yours silenced your complementing, breathing words of love back.

Toyomitsu Taishiro

“Hey!” you greeted Tai’s back.

He didn’t move when he responded with a lame ‘hey.’ No cheer or thrill heightened in his voice. It was incredibly odd, but gravely concerning too. Even after the hardest fights and longest days, he always acknowledged you with a love-filled smile.

You sat your bag on the counter. “Tai, are you okay?”

“I’m great.”

You plopped down beside him, stroking his arm, asking in a mellow tone to avoid being too pushy, “Are you sure?”

A brief film of water coated his eyes. Immediately, he blunk it away and nodded.

“Oh, baby.” Your fingers swept through his hair, running your nails along his scalp. He leaned into it. “Was it just a bad day?”

He nodded again.

You hopped up, offering your hands. “Come on.”

He grabbed them and stood, allowing you to lead him into the bedroom. You unzipped his sweatshirt. It flopped. The crinkly t-shirt was next, but you couldn’t reach high enough. With a small smile, he lifted it the rest of the way, revealing his belly and stretch marks. Hands shielded them as he laid on the bed. It gave you an inkling about his down mood.

You crawled up and smooched his cheek. He tried to return the kiss, but your lips drifted down his chin, landing on his sternum. You moved downward, seized his screening hands, and pleased them on his chest. Dark purple stria lined up his tummy from his pants, curving past his belly button.

“You’re so handsome, Tai.” You slowly kissed them. His stomach sucked in with a sharp inhale. He didn’t say anything while you praised the marks with your mouth. You took your time on each one. Softened, stretched skin lightly fluttered. Breaths gradually evened out, becoming accustomed to you.

In the silent room, you made your way up to his blushing smile, whispering again, “You’re so handsome.”

“Thank you,” he exhaled.

“Hmmm, I love you.”

“I love you too. Now, come here.” He bundled you within his arms and blankets, reciprocating the many kisses.

Gang Orca

The apartment door opened to a dark, freezing living room. Not even candles or technology lights blinked. “Hey, Kugo, you home?”

No reply came. Certain he had beaten you home, you called his name a few times. You wrapped a blanket around yourself and walked through the rooms, failing to see him anywhere. You almost gave in and called his phone when a flash of his elbow poked out from the balcony window.

Quietly sliding the door ajar, Kugo came into sight, hunched over on the bench, holding his head in his hands. Piles of soggy paperwork stacked on the table. A bundle of pens acted as a paperweight. Though street lights poorly lit the deck, you could make out shaking shoulders from the billow and wet clothing from the clumping snowflakes.

“Kugo, are you okay?”

He didn’t answer.

“Did something happen?”

The nod of his head was barely perceptible.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He didn’t answer.

Hiding your sigh, you brushed the snow from him, removed the blanket from your shoulders, and draped it over his. Once he was covered, you softly spoke, “I’ll make you some tea, honey. I’ll be right back.” You kissed the top of his head, whispering before heading back inside, “I love you.”

While the water heated, you prepared two cups: green with milk for you and chamomile with honey for him. Then you bundled up in a sweatshirt, sweatpants, and another blanket.

Kugo didn’t react when you returned or when you joined him on the bench. He stiffened at your presence. You didn’t comment, only extended the tea. “Here.”

A trembling hand accepted the steaming mug. A ‘thanks’ mumbled out.

“It’s no problem.”

The urge to scoot closer rose, but you weren’t sure if he’d want that. And he certainly wasn’t in the mood for conversing. A gust blew your blanket around. Both of you shivered. He shifted so your legs were touching. His hand laid out. Very, very slowly, you wrapped your fingers around two of his, tenderly, reassuringly squeezing them.

Once they curled, you snuggled close and said, “I love you, Kugo. I’m here for you.”

Kugo rumbled quietly amidst the wind, “Thank you.”

#all might #all might x reader #yagi toshinori #toshinori x reader #fatgum #fatgum x reader #taishiro toyomitsu #taishiro toyomitsu x reader #gang orca #gang orca x reader #kugo sakamata #kugo x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha imagines

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aalbedo · 3 years

Text

request: If it isn’t too much trouble, may I request Xiao x Reader x Albedo fluff at either the Lantern Rite or Ludi Harpastum/Windblume Festival? Thank you for your time!!!!

format: drabble + headcanons

ship: xiao x reader x albedo

tags: fluff; author has no idea how to write polyamory lmao

warnings: none

words: 977

notes: sorry if it took a minute but i wasn’t really sure how to write this, i ended up doing a mix of hcs and drabble so i hope that’s cool lmao, also this is not beta read at all :|

Albedo had been really easy to convince joining you for the lantern rite, all you had to do was mention Xiao lanterns, briefly explain to him the game of Theater Mechanicus and he was already on board.

Xiao had been much more difficult to convince, as both you and Albedo had to go to Wangshu Inn and almost beg him to join. But in the end he gave up and let you drag him along.

You decided to eat something immediately, as you could not resist the delicious smell of food coming from the numerous stalls. Albedo let Xiao convince him to try Almond tofu, while Xiao picked - to your surprise - Grilled tiger fish.

The three of you found a nice spot, a bench away from the crowd, to sit down and eat your dishes in tranquility.

“Okay so,” - you started, as you set your empty paper plate aside - “there’s still some time before the Mingxiao lantern gets released, what do we feel like doing?” you asked, moving your gaze between Albedo, comfortably sitting next to you, and Xiao, who had instead decided to sit on the ground, between you and Albedo.

“I think we could enjoy a few rounds of that game you were talking about,” the blonde prince suggested, referencing Theater mechanicus, he grabbed your plate, then Xiao’s, piled them onto his own and laid them on the ground next to the bench.

“I... don’t really know how it works, sorry,” Xiao admitted. “And, there’s probably going to be a lot of people around, I don’t really want to play.”

You reached a hand down and placed it on his shoulder, he immediately put his own hand over yours, stroking it gently, and tilted his head to the side, to rest it on your leg. “Maybe Albedo and I can play a few rounds, while you can enjoy some peace here? Would that be okay?”

“That would be good, thank you.” The Yaksha grabbed the hand he had been stroking and laid a kind kiss on the knuckles.

“You don’t have to be alone, we can simply stay here,” Albedo clarified.

“Do not worry about it, I enjoy loneliness as much as I enjoy your company.”

With your free hand, you reached out towards Albedo and intertwined your own fingers with his. “After playing, maybe we can go learn how to make some Xiao lanterns, so we can make our own and write our wishes on them,” you said, you could feel Albedo’s thumb stroking lightly the back of your hand lightly.

“I would like that,” Xiao talked, still holding your hand close to his face, and his voice was so soft you could barely hear him.

“Sounds like a plan.” Albedo’s lips curled up in a smile as he placed his free hand on the side of your face and pulled you in for a soft kiss, his lips were delicate like flower petals and they tasted sweet, thanks to the Almond tofu.

As he pulled back, his hand left yours, and you were about to protest until you saw him extend his arm behind your back, and you could feel his hand now resting on your opposite shoulder.

Suddenly you felt Xiao move under your hand, in a swift move he jumped on the bench and laid down, with his head resting on your thighs. He grabbed your hand back and placed it on his cheek, holding it with his own.

“Maybe, before you go, we can… spend some time here,” he said, closing his eyes and enjoying the warmth of your hand on his skin.

“Of course,” you smiled widely, looking down at him. You used your other hand to lift his head slightly and you bent down to place a gentle kiss on his lips, and you could feel him smile against the kiss as well.

After spending some more time on the bench, you and Albedo finally decided to follow through with your plan, leaving Xiao on his own for a brief period of time.

Theater mechanicus with Albedo was even more fun than you could’ve imagined, he would grab your hand and hold it tightly every time he had the chance, wanting to be as close to you as possible.

Eventually, you both returned to Xiao, who, after having some time for himself, seemed much more comfortable with being at the festival.

You decided to take a stroll around the harbour, and you held Xiao’s hand despite his initial protest. You wanted to have a look around, but they both spent most of the time looking at you, and the way the lantern lights reflected perfectly on your features.

Jingming taught you three how to make Xiao lanterns, crafted your own lanterns and each wrote a wish on their own lantern, planning to release them alongside the Mingxiao lantern.

“Any minute now,” you said, holding your lantern with one hand, while the other arm was placed around Xiao’s back, and you lightly stroked his side.

You were back at the bench where you had dinner, which coincidentally had a perfect view of the dock where the Mingxiao lantern would be released, and this time Xiao had decided to sit right next to you. You laid your head on Albedo’s shoulder and he placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“The sky is very clear,” the blonde pointed out, carefully holding his own lantern on his lap, “it’s a good evening to be here.”

“It’s a great evening to be here, with you two!” You exclaimed before lifting your head to place a small kiss first on Albedo’s cheek, and then on Xiao’s. Albedo turned his head to the side opposite of you and laughed, while the other’s lips curled up in a soft smile.

“It really is,” the Yaksha said, looking down at his own lantern.

#anyways requests are still wide open #if there's grammar mistakes i missed please do point them out im very blind #hdkjfhvjdhfl god i hope this is okay #i enjoyed writing it though! but god i had to ask my poly friend if this was cringe or not lmao #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin xiao #genshin albedo #albedo x reader #xiao x reader #albedo #xiao #so many goddamn tags

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workofheart · 3 years

Note

hi!! first of all i love ur writing sm!! for the drabble thing i was wondering if you could do levi+24+friends to lovers, preferably canonverse:) thank you lovely<33

this was so adorable :’) thank you for requesting, i had so much fun writing it! it got kind of long but i just couldn’t help myself lol... also this is barely edited i’ll come back soon for that😭

the art of dance and wordless confessions | levi + friends to lovers + “i thought you said you can’t dance?”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

it’s late in the evening when you finally pluck up the courage to see levi. the sun has long set and the halls of the barracks have gone quiet, the only sounds being the hushed whispers of cadets who have yet to fall asleep.

with the military ball approaching, it went somewhat unsaid that levi would be taking you, because who else would it be? after knowing him all these years and growing so close, it would almost be weird if you didn’t go together. that being said, you desperately hoped he wouldn’t laugh at you.

as one of your long time comrades - and truthfully, best friends - it should be easy to reach out to him for help. maybe it’s because you’re embarrassed, or because you might have caught feelings, but such right now is simply not the case.

your knuckles are held up hesitantly to the door of his office. luckily for you, levi senses your presence before you even have to knock. in a way, he almost expected you to be here at this hour.

“come in,” he calls, voice muffled through the wood. you take a second to prepare yourself before pushing in the door.

inside, you find levi sitting at his desk, hunched over piles of paperwork. his lips are turned down in a slight pout and the shadows beneath his eyes are unfortunately dire. he looks like he hasn’t slept in days, instead reading over the same print sentences again and again, which you know is most likely the case anyway.

“hi,” you say, padding over to sit in the chair across from him.

“hi.” he releases the pen he’s been clutching so tightly to for the past few hours onto the desk and rubs his eyes with his fists, trying to clear them from his working haze. he’s glad to see you.

levi doesn’t like beating around the bush. his patience is visibly thin, so after a deep breath, you force yourself to speak up.

“so we’re going to the ball together, right?” you start, fiddling with your fingers in your lap.

he takes a sip from his tea cup, glancing at you over the back of his hand. you look cute when you’re nervous, he thinks.

“obviously.”

“well, i kind of have this problem-”

maybe it’s the late of the night, the exhaustion clouding his train of thought, but he interrupts you without even thinking.

“do you want to go with someone else?” he asks, and immediately berates himself internally for it. god, he’s so stupid.

his voice is nonchalant, but his heart sinks at the thought. why would you want to go with him in the first place? there’s so many other scouts that would be dying to take you, so he should have at least expected this.

“no, no!’ you assure him. he quirks an eyebrow. “it’s not that, it’s just…”

“spit it out,” he says. the words are harsh, but it comes out encouraging in a way only you would know.

you whine in embarrassment, pinching the bridge of your nose before committing to the confession. “i...can’t dance.”

you can practically see his thought process through his expressions. at first he’s relieved you’re not trying to reject him, and then he’s confused as to how that’s possible, and finally he’s delighted that you’ve come to him for help. the thought makes his heart inexplicably warm, despite the fact he would never show it on the outside.

“alright,” he sighs, pushing his chair back. “i’ll teach you.” he cracks his knuckles and stretches his back, thankful to just be out of his seat.

“really?” you ask, eyes bright and swimming with excitement. levi’s stomach flips.

“yeah, ‘need a break anyway.”

he walks around his desk to meet you, extending an open palm to help you up. when you stand, he leads you to the center of the room, using his free hand to put yours on his shoulder before settling it on your waist.

“just follow my lead, you’ll pick it up.”

he ignores the way you swallow, chalking it up to nerves.

stepping forward and to the side, levi guides you with firm hands. he’s assured and confident, leading you even when you stumble, even disregarding how silly he feels when he murmurs small counts to help you.

with levi, it’s easy to fall into step. when your feet trip up, he’s quick to correct you, and his hold makes your skip a beat. once you have the basic box down, he changes the angle and shows you around the room, slowly turning in small circles.

you don’t even notice how intensely you’re staring at your shoes until he mentions it.

“stop looking down,” he says, “look at me.”

apologizing sheepishly, your cheeks flush with heat. when you finally meet his eyes, he thinks that he could look at you all day without getting tired, but he can tell you feel awkward from the way your gaze flits around the room.

he speaks to distract you. “i thought you said you can’t dance,” he mumbles, a hint of a smile on his lips.

you breathe out an air of laughter that has his chest tightening. “can’t mentally doesn’t necessarily mean can’t physically.”

his eyebrows furrow at your strange logic. “what does dance have to do with mentality?”

with a shy roll of your eyes, you admit, “i dont want to look stupid.”

and yet again, his heart gets the best of him. something about your presence takes the filter right off his mouth, breaks down the dam that always holds him back from saying what he really thinks.

“i don’t think you look stupid,” he says quietly. “i don’t think you ever look stupid.”

it catches you off guard. for a second, you almost convince yourself that you imagined it. but then his eyes dart away from yours, letting it hang in the air for a second too long, and suddenly it’s simply too late for him to mean it in a way that’s just platonic.

“thanks, levi,” you whisper. you don’t know where you find the courage, but then you’re leaning in and pressing a small kiss to the cheek he has turned to you.

the feel shocks him from his self-pitying daze. he turns his head back to face you, gaze flicking to your mouth, sees how you’ve pinched your bottom lip with your teeth in hesitation. he doesn’t bother trying to speak - he knows his words will fail him.

his movements fall still along with yours, the dance long forgotten in the span of just a few seconds. your hand drifts closer to his chest from his shoulder and his head seems to cloud with a haze of only you. he leans in slow, tentative, but you don’t hesitate to meet him halfway, effectively closing the gap.

lashes brushing lightly against your nose, levi’s eyes flutter shut. his lips are pillowy and soft as they move against yours, still dark and malty from his earlier choice of tea.

it only takes a moment for his previous caution to blossom into a fond conviction. it’s a gentle, tender sort of warmth that fills your chest when levi kisses you. the spread starts where you connect and flows through you entirely, even reaching right to the ends of your fingertips pressed against him, and the feeling cycles back to where it begins.

your other hand breaks from his hold and moves to his neck, sliding up through his undercut and entangling with his silken locks. a small noise escapes levi, and he has to pull away.

it’s hard to deny the smile that tugs on your cheeks. he has to look away to save himself from the obvious heat radiating off his face - you’re so close, he’s sure you can feel it.

in response, your head hangs, dropping until your forehead rests against his chest. a shy laugh leaves you, one that levi can’t help but follow with.

levi clears his throat and you bring your face back up to his. he’s torn between wanting to look at you and shielding his face from showing how flustered he is. this side of levi is soft and timid, and he’d only ever consider letting you in to see it.

“i think you’re probably set,” he says, looking down to where his hands lie on your waist. he plays with the cotton cloth of your shirt, smoothing his thumbs over the seam.

“yeah,” you agree, brushing the hair back from his face. it makes him gulp. “thanks for all the help.”

that night, you leave his office assured with more than just your ability to dance a waltz.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman drabble #levi ackerman fanfic #levi x reader #levi fluff #aot x reader #aot fanfic #aot fluff

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honestsycrets · 3 years

Text

Extra Hands [ Ivar x Reader, Ivar/Hvitserk Platonic ] VD7

❛ pairing | ivar/hvitserk, ivar x reader

❛ type | drabble for @youbloodymadgenius ‘s 1k event that I’m so, totally, late for. i’m so sorry that i’ve been slow, cat. i’ve been in a strange funk. other requests filled: you’ve never had a Valentine’s date and right, like you could do so much better. / You bet your ass I could.

❛ summary | hvitserk knows when his brother is nervous.

❛ tags | implied first date, modern ivar

“I dunno why you’re making all of these. Is that a homemade box?”

Hvitserk picked the chocolate chunks out of Ivar’s drab vanilla cookie mix. It was the first time that he had tried this particular recipe. It was a painfully simple recipe of chocolate chip cookies, but that was the point. He made a note to use sea salt to give it some life. Who, after all, disliked chocolate chip cookies? Ivar gripped the wheels of his wheelchair, scooting himself around the kitchen.

“Bro, this is a fuckin’ homemade box!”

“Stop eating the dark chocolate,” Ivar lurched up, smacking his elder brother’s knuckles. Hvitserk sneaks his fingers back in to take three morsels back with him. “You’ll throw off the proportions.”

“So what? It’s just for us, right?”

“As if I would put this much effort into something for my brothers.” Ivar oils an ice cream scoop. He digs into the dough, scooping pieces that were-- of course, the perfect size. “It is for my woman.”

Hvitserk about chokes on his chocolate morsels.

“A girl?!”

“Yes, a woman, Hvitserk.”

But you’ve never had a bitch for Valentine’s!”

“Don’t call her that,” Ivar bobs his head toward Hvitserk in a nod. He spent the better part of the afternoon in preparation for his date this evening. It was his first-- with a mother like his-- it had been previously impossible to date. But the ever-growing litany of questions that Hvitserk had for him began to pile up.

“I gotta see this. Is she hot?” Hvitserk laughed, bouncing up and down in the question. “That why you’re making so many fuckin’ cookies? Chocolate chip cookies, thumbprint cookies, sugar cookies. Sweetheart, you can’t buy the necessities of life--err dick-- with cookies.”

“Don’t Burton me. Why don’t you go fuck another one of your failed film students and leave me alone?” Ivar bit out. It was easier with his help, no doubt, but this was something he did with the express intention of seeing your smile. It had been years. Years that he spent changing your mind about dating your boss. He wasn’t about to ruin this now.

Hvitserk swept the cookie sheet from the granite countertop and eased it into the oven. Ivar’s mind swims in the vast lake of his mind, wondering exactly how he could make sure that nothing went awry. It was, after all, his first date.

“I just wanna see what she’s like. I mean, when have you brought a girl home? Suddenly you open up this publishing company, and bam, pussy.”

Ivar looks at the other steaming cookies. They would have to cool first. His kitchen was perfumed with the scent of vanilla, almond, and delicious brown butter from the oven. Ivar eyes Hvitserk sharply, reaching for the glittery homemade box. “She’s not just pussy. She’s--”

“Look at you being all romantic and shit.”

“You are annoying me.”

Sometimes, he wished he was an only child—most days. Today was one of them. His hands trembled around the box of delicate cookies. His brother’s expression was hooded for a moment before Hvitserk took the handles of his wheelchair, dragging him out of the room with nothing more but Ivar’s booming complaint. Hvitserk knew how much he hated it when he did this. It was like a mother dragging a child by the braids!

“I’ll come check them fuckin’ cookies, don’ worry. What’re you gonna wear?”

They come to a stop in Ivar’s room. He looks toward his crutches, settled on the wall, and decides to reach for them so that he could stand. Hvitserk rustles in his closet. He had a wealth of handsome suits-- it happened when you needed to impress a good author or attend an important meeting-- but they all seemed wrong. His practiced expression melts off his face. He thought it all through: the date, the dinner simmering on the stove, but when it came to himself. He dropped his eyes to the floor before returning Hvitserk’s look.

“That suit, I suppose.”

“That shit is ugly,” Hvitserk returns.

“Right, like you could do so much better,” Ivar hisses.

“Bet your ass I could. You gotta wear something hot. You want her to fuck you, right?”

“I told you--”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Not jus’ some pussy. But you wanna fuck, don’t you?”

He would be lying if he said he didn’t. Something hot ends up being some black slacks that contrast against a burgundy button-up and a tight, black vest. He feels more exposed than he has in a while when Hvitserk comes back from taking out his last batch of cookies. He likes it-- and he hates it.

“That’s hot,” Hvitserk clapped. Ivar runs his finger under the rolled-up sleeves, noting how they formed to his muscles. “No way she doesn’t fuck you.”

“This isn’t about that.”

“It’s Valentine’s day,” he told him. “It has to be about that.”

His phone trills. What he hates, but truly hates, is Hvitserk’s nosiness. He lurches toward it before Ivar could even move. He produces Ivar a decent nod. “She’s beautiful,” he flicks the phone at Ivar on his way out of the room. “Has a pretty smile, too.”

His heart pounded in leaps in his chest. You must be here; already. He’s not yet put the cookies in the box. He makes his way toward the front door with the bundle of flowers against his chest, cognizant of the sound of a scratching spatula dragging across his cookie sheet.

Well, Hvitserk is good for something.

Ivar isn’t sure of what the etiquette for Valentine’s Day is, but he could hardly care, knocking the door open to let you in. You slip in beside him, drawing your fingers over the v of his waistcoat.

“Is this new?” you asked. “It looks… amazing.”

Hvitserk, of course, is skittering somewhere inside. Ivar can hear the stifled giggle marked by the painfully unapologetic, I told you I could do better. You draw your head toward the inside, peeling the edge of your mask off. You roll your ruby red lipstick in, then out, and smile at him once again.

“Is someone inside?”

“Sadly,” he sighs as he hands you the flowers under his arm. “That is my brother Hvitserk. I don’t expect him to stay in the kitchen long.”

Ivar lingers on the word stay. You laugh, drawing the flowers up to inspect them more carefully. It’s a full bouquet of romantic red roses: painfully cliche, but painfully Ivar. They are his favourite shade.

“He’s kicking me out of my own kitchen,” Hvitserk calls back. You make your way into the house, drawing the bottom of your skirt lower: if you could manage such a thing. It wasn’t necessarily short: but the slit on the side of your leg was something Ivar knew Hvitserk would point out later.

Evidence, he’d shout. Evidence of nothing, Ivar would say back.

Your fingers graze Ivar’s free hand, clipping around the corner where Hvitserk stood with cookie crumbling in between his fingers. Ivar’s forehead creases, the anger bubbling up in his stomach into a roiling boil. At that moment you snatch Ivar’s hand, lacing your fingers together, and throwing cool water to the boil.

“You must be her,” Hvitserk mumbles. “Ivar’s first date.”

“First date? Really?” He’d kill him. He’d kill him, he’d drag him out to sea, throw his body over to the bottom of the pond and-- you lean up, planting a kiss at his jawline. “I like being the first.”

“Yes. This is my older brother Hvitserk. He likes to eat anything he can get his grubby little fingers on. Including things that I did not make for him,” Ivar returns. He leans against the cabinet and slams his crutch on the countertop. At times his brother can be overbearing. Today, like most days, Hvitserk needed his company. Unlike most days, Hvitserk doesn’t have the patience.

“Why don’t you,” he rubs his twirls his hand in a spin. “...fuck off, Hvitserk?”

“Ivar.”

“Don’ worry about it. He’s just all wound up because he’s brought me home a girl to meet.” He wiped his chocolates fingers over his basketball shorts and extended his hand out— “Name's Hvitserk.”

“I heard,” you smiled, bringing the hand not cupping Ivar’s hand to squeeze his bicep. “You’re Ivar’s lit agent?”

“One of them.”

“Ain’t that like— sexual harassment?” Hvitserk folds his hand back in, quickly catching on that you’re not a touchy type. At least, not with him. Fair enough.

“Why don’t you take a bottle of wine to your room, Hvitserk?” Ivar grumbles.

“Ain’t that for your date?”

“We don’t need it,” you shout.

“Huh. Well if you insist.” At last, he folds, taking the bottle and a stolen plate of food with a bounce. Although he doesn’t say anything— he has that dopey smile. He waits until the door slams behind Hvitserk to exhale an apology. Ivar began to think that he would never leave.

“I made those cookies for you.”

Your lips curl into a smile, resting your head on his shoulder. Hvitserk hollers something from the back room about having helped— and you pat his chest. His cheeks pinken as he looks over the dinner he’s made and the cookies he baked. His nosy Hvitserk— always killing his mood.

“Take me to your room.”

“Hm?” he asks. “You’re not hungry?”

“Not for pasta.”

Oh. For once, Hvitserk was right.

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#vikings imagines #vikings imagine #vikings x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless/reader #ivar ragnarsson x reader #modern ivar x reader #vikings/reader

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