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neoculturetravesty · 3 years

Text

He’s never called her pretty

Image taken from here.

Pairing: Doyoung x Florist!Reader Genre: Angst, Romance, Fluff Warnings: Might have dropped a couple of f bombs. Word Count: 4982

Summary: Doyoung has a cruel realization that being an idol has hindered him from being the best boyfriend to you.

A/N: This is my first fic ever, and I can’t really believe I’m doing this. But inspiration hit me and I had to let it all out. Let me know what you think!

“Has he ever even told you you’re pretty?” Doyoung hears through the curtains, and he knows he’s walked in on something he shouldn’t have. He doesn't know how he ended up here but he certainly can’t reveal himself now. He knows he shouldn’t be here but a pressing instinct tells him that the conversation concerns him and suddenly, he’s found himself rooted to the spot, unable to move his feet, sinfully listening in.

Moments ago, he had walked into the venue and for a while, he had just stopped and stared. He had known his girlfriend was talented, but watching her work for the very first time with his own two eyes took his breath away. People would talk about your skills all the time, but somehow, it never registered in his mind. He felt a bout of shame as he realized this. You weren’t just a florist, it seemed. You were an artist, because what Doyoung saw in front of him was unlike anything he had ever seen. That’s why people talked about you.

When an unassuming usher walked up to him and asked if he was a guest, all he could manage was “I’m looking for Y/N.” He had to remind himself that he was here to surprise you and he needed to make himself less conspicuous before someone recognized him. The fact that he was ogling at the decor whilst clutching onto a bouquet of red tulips didn’t help the matter. So he had tried to follow the usher’s instructions as best he could to find you. That’s how he found himself here, hidden behind a veil without meaning to be hidden.

It felt perverse, the fact that he was not letting his presence be known, but curiosity had him unable to walk away. He listened in.

“Well… not in so many words.” Doyoung feels his stomach drop before he hears the reply to the cruel question, because the voice that answered it was a voice that he had memorized perfectly in every part of his mind. It was yours.

He could hear you from miles away, that’s how attuned his ears were to the sound of your voice. He knew it was you that answered that foul question, as much as he stood in that moment, hoping it wasn’t because these were not the words he had ever expected to hear from you.

“How long have you guys been together, again?” He hears another pestering, unkind voice and his heart races.

“Not long, maybe about 5 months?” your voice is meek, Doyoung can sense your discomfort through the thin veil that hides him.

“Have you met his parents?” It’s a different voice this time, but this one is just as unkind. Doyoung wants to move, to say something but he’s not supposed to be here in the first place, and truth be told, he wants to remain hidden because he wants to know.

“Well, no. Not yet. They don’t live here, so not yet.” He can tell you’re cornered, you’re uncomfortable, you want to leave and you don’t have to say the words for Doyoung to know exactly how you feel.

“How about his brother?”

“Well, they’re both really busy, he’s just… never had a chance I guess.” Now, he should do it now. Doyoung should barge in and take you away from this. Who are these women anyway to be cornering you with such invasive questions?

“So you’re saying in the 5 months you’ve been together, he’s kept you a secret… even from his family.” A secret? He hasn’t kept you a secret, he’s just been waiting for the perfect time.

“I don’t think I’m a secret.” Doyoung’s heart leaps in his chest and he suddenly feels hopeful because you’ve said the words as if you heard his thoughts.

“Y/N… I don’t know how to tell you this, but I think he’s going to break up with you.” the unkind voice declares with a tone laced with feigned pity. It makes Doyoung sick.

“Yeah, Sooji is right. Y/N, sweetheart… men don’t wait that long if they’re in it for the long run.”

There is a shuffling of feet and then the first voice says “I’m so sorry, Y/N, but it would be better this way I think. I know men like him. He’s had his fun so now you’re a liability. I think he’s going to cut you off sooner rather than later.”

Doyoung hears the ruffling of clothes and more shuffling of feet before it all turns silent. Yet, he finds himself unmoving, his mind racing, his body still. He notices that he’s holding onto the red tulips a bit too tight. Red tulips. ‘You are my perfect love,’ that’s what he remembers you teaching him about them.

So why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you defend him?

Doyoung can’t explain it, but all he feels in this moment is anger and betrayal. Why did you let those women talk about him like that? To talk about the two of you like that? Why didn’t you speak up and tell them to keep their noses out of your business? Why didn’t you tell them to knock it off because they don’t know about you, about how the two of you were together? Unless…

Unless you believed them.

Had he ever told you that you were pretty? Doyoung thinks, really thinks about it. He thinks back to your first date. You had closed your flower shop early for him, to protect him from prying eyes and unwanted camera lenses. You had turned the blinds on the windows down and showed Doyoung your creations. You had worn a white sundress with your hair down and when you had smiled up at him from behind the sunflowers, Doyoung had actually found himself a loss for words. He had never felt that before, the feeling of losing his speech because a girl had actually taken his breath away, simply by smiling at him. He remembered stupidly wondering if he had fallen in love at that moment or if you were really just that beautiful that you turned his brain to mush. Had he told you that he thought you were pretty then? No, he hadn’t. Not in so many words, your answer replays in his mind with a sting.

But did you want to hear it? Doyoung hadn’t thought so. You were far beyond the need for meaningless expressions, he had presumed. It’s why he was drawn to you. Being with you was as easy as breathing. You were okay about the fact that the two of you couldn’t go on dates… or proper dates, in the way real people did. You always seemed comfortable enough sitting next to him on the couch as you lazily browsed through Netflix. You were never in a mood when Doyoung forgot to text you back because he was in the studio, and you always met him with warmth even as you waited because his practice went on for a bit too long. Doyoung didn’t think you were the kind who’d wait around for her boyfriend to tell her she was pretty.

‘Of course she wanted to hear it,’ Doyoung thinks in a moment of crippling realization. He was a fool. What woman wouldn’t want her boyfriend to tell her she was pretty! What woman wouldn’t want her boyfriend to take her on dates, on proper dates where she could doll up and be pampered? What woman wouldn’t want a boyfriend she could take pictures with and post them for the world to see? He was a fool. He had taken your kindness to mean something else. Comfort. Contentment. Complacence. He was a fool.

And now these women had convinced you that he wasn’t interested in you. And you had believed them. Why else would you have fallen silent? Truth be told, he hadn’t done much to show you what you meant to him. Now that he looks back, it was always you putting in the effort. He was a fool. And now here he was. Hidden quite literally behind a curtain in a room he wasn’t supposed to be in, head in his hands. ‘You are my perfect love,’ the tulips mock him so he drops them. He gets out of there, only one conclusive thought in his brain: ‘She deserves better.’

You loved events like these almost as much as you loved running the store. Your fingers were stained from creating the floral sculptures and your back ached a little. But your heart was happy. You stood back and looked at how you took a simple venue and turned it into something magical, if you might say so yourself. You saw the gleam in your client’s eyes and you felt proud of yourself. You had done well. You took a deep, content breath and let it out in a happy sigh. Decorating for events like these reminded you why you loved your job. What you didn’t like was that inevitably, at times like these, you were met with so many invasive questions.

“You work so much, don’t you get tired, Y/N?”

“Is being a florist really worth it?”

“Don’t you ever want a real job?”

“Are you dating someone, Y/N?”

“I know a guy, I could set you up on a blind date!”

Over the years, you had learnt to tune them out. They didn’t bother you, not really. You were happy in the true sense of the word, and meaningless gossip didn’t change that. You had learnt to work in silence, usually with your Airpods in, letting them out only when your trusted employees came to give you a hand.

You stood in front of your creation one last time, committing it to memory. It had taken you about a week to create all these floral sculptures but now that you stood here looking at the finished product, you felt it was worth it. You spent some more time taking pictures of what you’d made and proudly posted them on your Instagram.

You felt a sense of accomplishment, as one would feel at the end of a project that ended in success. You wanted to celebrate, have this tiring week end in an exhale. And if you asked yourself, there was no one else you wanted to share this happy moment with but Doyoung. You smiled as you thought of him. You realized that your mind somehow sneakingly thought of him every time you felt a surge of joy. Surely, that had to mean something.

He had said he’d meet you today after you were done and the two of you could celebrate together. You were in a happy daze as you went into the changing rooms to get out of your stained clothes and into something prettier. Not even the women that bombarded you with personal questions while you changed could get you out of your blissful state. You swiped some color on your lips and let them throw questions at you. You answered them on autopilot, just to be polite.

When you were ready, you went back to your makeshift workstation at the venue and looked at the leftover flowers. White carnations and anemones, an odd combination, but these are the only ones that remained. You put them together anyway and tied them with a ribbon when you were happy with what you made. Doyoung always appreciated it when you brought him flowers. He had joked how it was supposed to be his job, but what could he do when he was dating a florist. So you did all the bringing of flowers in the relationship. ‘He would surely like these’, you thought to yourself with a stupid grin on your face.

You clutched onto the flowers as you took the bus to your boyfriend’s apartment. You wondered if he had eaten. He had been so busy lately. Maybe you’d get him food when you got there. As you neared his building, you had a sudden bout of self awareness on how you might look. You were dolled up, holding onto a bouquet of flowers, making your way to an idol’s building. You looked so foolishly conspicuous that you almost had to stop to laugh at yourself. You giggled, mentally smacking yourself on the forehead, and took a detour. In your early days, Doyoung had taught you how to get to his building without being seen, because as you would have it, there were always a bunch of people with cameras camped outside, ready to catch a glimpse of him. He had explained this to you so apologetically that your heart had ached for him.

You would never admit it to anyone, but you kind of enjoyed the thrill of taking a roundabout way every time you came to see him. It made you feel like you were the heroin in your very own spy thriller. You took the back door of the next building and made your way to the fire escape, eyes on the landing of Doyoung’s building. The leap over was narrow and you managed it every time without fail.

“Success!” You thought to yourself, as you landed, creeping in the shadows of his building till you were finally inside, keeping one eye on the group of people camped outside. “Don’t catch a cold, guys,” you thought, still grinning to yourself as you finally made your way to his apartment on the fifth floor.

He had told you to let yourself in, so you punched in the code and finally stepped in. “It’s me!” You called out to let yourself be known. You made your way in and saw your boyfriend leaning over the kitchen counter, head bowed over a bowl of something. ‘Good. He’s finally eating’ you thought and walked towards him, giving him a kiss on the cheek “Hi, babe.” you smiled at him, cupping his face from the side.

You could see that he was clenching his jaw a little and the fact that he doesn’t look up from his bowl of porridge makes you wonder if he’s had a tough day. “I got you flowers, let me put them in a vase real quick.” You say, not wanting to push him. Maybe in a while, after he had eaten, you could hold him and ask him if something was the matter.

You turned to grab an empty vase, one you had gotten him, and filled it with water. For a while, the only sounds are the gentle rustling of leaves as you place your arrangement in the vase and Doyoung stirring his porridge. Suddenly, you hear his voice, his tone low. “What do these flowers mean?”

“Hmm…? Oh, these?” you give him a warm smile. Doyoung would ask you this every time you brought him something. So you’d make sure to bring him something new each time. “White carnations generally symbolize innocence and pure love. And these anemones… they symbolize sincerity. Although this little guy is stained a little pink, so it could also mean forsaken love. But it’s not it’s true color, so I’m going to let it slide.” you try to joke to lighten the heaviness you feel in the air.

Doyoung looks pensive, like he’s thinking your explanation over. “Forsaken love.” he repeats, like he’s feeling the weight of the words on his tongue.

“Hmm… but the clients ordered white anemones, I guess this one got a little stained on the way.” you say, trying to keep the tone conversational, but you can feel the air getting tenser, burdening down on the two of you. So you reach out a hand to stroke his hair “Are you okay?” you ask kindly but the words have barely left your lips when Doyoung flinches away and turns to face you.

Your heart drops. Something has changed, that much you can sense, but you’re so confused. “Doyoung?”

He looks impatient, but not with you. You can tell you’ve found him amidst a battle with himself. Like he was working out his thoughts but you walked in and interrupted and now it’s all messed up. “Don’t you ever want a real boyfriend?” he asks suddenly, looking down at you, eyes distant.

“A real boyfriend?” you repeat, looking up at him. You can’t help the concern that shines in your eyes, even if you try to downplay it. You just want to reach out to him but you dare not; not when he’s protecting himself from you.

“A real boyfriend.” He turns the phrase over. “Someone who wouldn’t hide you like he’s ashamed of you.” There is venom in his tone now.

“But you’re not ashamed of me, Doyoung.” You say his name, wanting him to hear you pronounce it with love and kindness. “You’re not hiding me because you’re ashamed of me. You’re hiding me to protect me.”

He scoffs then, looking away and places his hands on his waist. Like you’ve said the most ridiculous thing in the world. “Doesn’t it make you worry that you haven’t even met my family yet?”

You take a step closer to him but he moves away and your heart aches once again. You can’t help the hurt you feel. ‘But that’s what he wants.’ You have to tell yourself ‘He’s trying to hurt me because he’s hurting.’

“Do you want me to meet your family, Doyoung?” You ask carefully, saying his name once again, this time to anchor yourself. You never could say his name with disdain.

Doyoung laughs. It’s cold, the way he stands there to mock you. But you know him too well. He’s trying to be cruel, to block you out, and a strange part of you wants to know how long he can keep this facade up. “Wake up, Y/N. Don’t you think that if I wanted you to meet my family, it would’ve happened already?”

You look up at him and this time, you can’t hide the confusion that contorts your face. You were trying to be patient with him, trying to keep your calm and kindness while he spat venom at you. You knew he was hurting. You just wished you knew what brought this on. “Doyoung… what’s wrong? Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” You walk towards him, wanting nothing more than to close the gap between the two of you.

“Don’t you think that if I wanted to keep you, I would’ve… I would’ve… Y/N, don’t come any closer.” He blocks with his forearms as you reach for his face, turning his body away from you.

“Doyoung, look at me, please. Please.” You gently plead, still reaching out for his face while he blocks you and keeps moving away.

“Haven’t you wondered why I’ve never taken you out on a date? Why I’ve never been the one to bring you flowers? Why I’ve never stayed the night in your bed? Why I’ve never kept any sign of you in my room? Why I’ve never introduced you to my family?” He’s spitting at you now with his words, one sting after another, but you’re fighting back. You’re still reaching for him and he’s still moving away, he’s still blocking you, he’s still protecting himself. But you can see his walls faltering, you hear the tremors in his voice.

“Doyoung, please, just let me--”

“--Y/N, have I ever even told you you were pretty?” At that, relief washes over you as you finally understand what’s up. Those women. Had they tried to corrupt his mind as they had tried to corrupt yours?

“Don’t you see it, Y/N? I don’t wanna be with you, I don’t wanna be…” he’s breaking now, and you can tell he doesn’t have the energy to keep it up any longer because his lies end in a sob and he’s doubling over, like he can’t hold himself up anymore.

And so you hold him. You put your arms around his neck and kiss him on the cheek “Doyoung. It’s okay. Baby, it’s okay.” You kiss his cheekbone, you kiss his jawline, you take his face in your palms and make him look at you. You press a gentle kiss on his lips.

“It’s not okay.” He croaks, his chest heaving from the sobs.

“Shhh… baby, breathe.” You coo at him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his forehead, combing his hair away from his face with your fingers. You kiss his cheek and then his lips tenderly, once, twice and a third time. You pull back to look at him.

He falls into you then, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry…” he sobs, and there is such sincerity in his voice that your heart breaks into a thousand pieces. You never wanted to see him like this.

You turn your head and keep pressing kisses to his temple while he remains buried in your neck. “Shhh, baby. I’m here. I’m right here.” You cradle the back of his head, run your hands across his back to soothe him till he calms.

He takes a deep breath and straightens, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand “I’m sorry.” He says again and you coo at him once more, shushing him, kissing him on the lips.

“You’re so cold.” You rub his shoulders as you notice him shivering. “Come, let’s get you to bed and warm you up.” He doesn’t protest as you take his hand and lead him to his room.

The house was quiet today and that told you no one was around. Doyoung’s room was as well kept as ever and you smiled as you saw the plant you had given him alive and thriving on his windowsill. ‘No sign of you in my room’ you scoff internally as his words play over in your mind. Doyoung was so bad at lying. You dimmed his lights and got into his bed, lifting the covers for him. “Come here.” You invite him in.

He obeys this time, like he doesn’t have the energy to fight anymore. He gets in, placing his head on your chest, throws an arm around your waist and a leg over your legs. You encircle him in your embrace. ‘He wants to be held.’ You thought and so you held him tight. Like you were trying to take his pain away. You tucked the covers around him, cocooning him in as he clung to you. You stroked his hair and kissed the top of his head over and over, wanting to let him know that he was loved. But you knew that soon you’d have to use your words.

So you took his hand in yours and pressed a kiss to the back of it before you said “I love you, Doyoung. So much. You’ve given me your heart. Don’t you know that’s enough?” But as soon as the words leave your mouth, you wish you hadn’t said them, at least not now, because a fresh pool of tears run down his eyes. You wipe them away with your thumb and kiss the top of his head, tucking it under your chin.

“It’s not enough.” He sniffles. “I can’t give you what another man can give you, Y/N. I can’t hold your hand and walk you home because I’d be worried someone with cameras would follow me. I can’t pick you up after work and take you to the movies because what if someone recognizes me. Fuck, I can’t even let you into my home by the front door. I have to make you jump between buildings and risk your safety like that because I’m such a selfish man and I need you. You don’t deserve any of this.”

Your poor, sweet boy. You press a palm to his forehead “I had no idea you had so many worries in this head of yours.” You muse, a smile in your voice.

“Any other man would show you off so proudly. He would take pictures with you and post them for the world to see. He would take you out to dinner, he would kiss you without fear of getting caught. He would visit you when you had an important day to cheer you on. I haven’t given you any of that. I can’t give you any of that. Do you know I didn’t even know how good you were at what you did until today? Because I can’t just show up to support you. It’s always you making all the effort. You’re the one that has to change your plans according to my schedule. You’re the one that has to come to me all the time. You’re the one that has to plan all our dates. You don’t deserve any of this.” There is so much regret in his voice, so much sadness that suddenly, you’re a bit irked. None of that means anything to you, so why is he feeling that way?

You frown at him now “Doyoung. What makes you think I want any of that? Do you think I’d be with you if that’s the life I wanted? If that was the kind of relationship I wanted?” you try to lift his chin to make him see your face so he knows your words are true.

He looks at you sadly then shakes his head “You shouldn’t have to settle, Y/N. Just because I can’t give you these things doesn’t mean you have to stop yourself from wanting them.”

You’re getting impatient now. Why doesn’t he get it? How could you possibly make him understand? You’ll just have to use your words. You sit up and pull him up with you so you could look at his face when you talked.

“Listen, you sweet, stupid, broody boy.” You smack him lightly on the head. “I don’t want any of that. I’ve never been one to like any of that. I don’t want a boyfriend that’s worried about performative grand gestures all the time. I hate that, and I know you know that about me. I don’t want fancy dates, I don’t want to post our pictures all over the internet. I never did that with any of my other relationships!” Doyoung makes a face when you mention this part, but you continue, “This,” you hold his hand in both of yours, “This is what I want. Just to sit next to you. To watch movies together cuddled on your couch. To come to see you at the end of the day and know you’ll be waiting for me. To sit together and talk about our day. To cook together and have Taeyong make fun of our failed attempts. To hold your hand and just… exist with you. This. This is what I want. Don’t you think that if I wanted something else I would have asked?” You didn’t expect it, but you are irritated at him. This was rare… this was something you hadn’t felt toward him before.

Doyoung’s expression has softened as he looks at you. He sighs “You have to bear so much because of me. I know people ask you questions. People wonder why you’re with me. They make assumptions about you. They spread rumours about you. You shouldn’t have to go through any of that.”

“Doyoung.” You say, and this time, he’s hurt your pride a little. He has underestimated you. So your voice is serious “Do you think that I’d be with you if I didn’t have an amount of determination? Do you think I lead my life worrying about what people say about me?”

He smiles then, a real smile, an amused smile and he leans over to stroke your head. “That you are. Determined and strong.” He tilts his head and kisses you and you kiss him back.

You pull back but keep his face in your palms. “Please don’t let other people’s opinions affect you, Doyoung. You know I love you. You know I am the happiest I’ve ever been. Who cares what other people say about us?”

He pulls you into his chest and holds you and lets out a deep exhale, like he was holding his breath this entire time and now the worst is past. He holds you contentedly, like he finally believes you are his for the keeping. He holds you like a relief and he can’t stop the swell of happiness in his chest or the smile that keeps growing on his lips. “What have I done to deserve a woman like you?”

“You must have been a saint in your past life. But for now, you can feed me. I’ve had a long day and all I want to do now is carb-load on Chinese takeout that my boyfriend will buy me.” You pout at him, narrowing your eyes.

He kisses the tip of your nose and says “I’ll get you everything on the menu.”

“That’s the spirit.” You pat his chest twice and get up “You make the order, I’ll go set the table.” You say, starting to move to the kitchen but Doyoung grabs your wrist to stop you.

“Y/N…” he says and stands up, making you turn around to face him. He comes closer and suddenly, your heart flutters. He tucks your hair behind your ears and looks at you so tenderly, you feel like your legs have turned to jelly.

“You are so beautiful.” he says in a voice barely above a whisper but it washes over your body like a thrilling chill first, followed by the warmth of spring sunshine. It’s stupid, the way you’re blushing like you were a silly teenager and you can’t possibly stop the grin that’s making it’s way on your face. Your eyes are sparkling as they look into Doyoung’s sincere ones. So this is how it felt. Maybe having your boyfriend tell you you were pretty wasn’t overrated after all.

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jechristine · 2 years

Note

I'm the anon who thinks you're infantilizing Zendaya. Again you twist the intention of the ask to serve your interest. I was saying Z is way more at risk of overexposure than Tom (a previous anon dragged Tom into it, implying sexism), because she's FAR more in the public eye than Tom. Simple as that. Nothing to do with "well it's the nature of her job", I mean literally this is my point, it wasn't foisted on her, she makes those choices to be massively in the public eye ... leading to risk of overexposure.

And the reason I said 9 months is because that's when the lockdown was lifting and Space Jam and public events were starting. Although I'll grant you i totally forgot about Uncharted when I said Tom had 1 project! And Tom's seasonal campaign with Prada is not remotely like Z's multi-year contract with Valentino, fact.

"Awards for being herself" means non-acting awards, awards for her as Zendaya the person in society. Tom won one too so don't get your knickers in a knot (although many people talk about Z and her well--planned strategy for awards of this kind and general fame, which Tom doesn't have). It's undisputed that Zendaya is an overall celebrity where Tom is "merely" an actor who happens to be famous.

Hi, Anon.

Okay, I follow your distinction: Tom is a famous actor who is focused on that one job only (or mostly), and Zendaya is more of an all-around entertainment personality, focused on getting famous from multiple avenues.

Re: Tom—

Tom comes on a Hollywood scene that has many more roles, leading roles, and blockbuster leading roles for white men like himself than it does for any women and certainly for any woc. This is why “Best Supporting Actress” is often the most competitive category for women at awards shows. Movies with woman and POC as protagonists are still by and large considered niche, despite some progress over the last decade (which, by the way, coincided with Zendaya’s rise). This makes achieving fame via what seems like a nobler path of just keeping his head down and doing good work easier for someone like Tom. Again, as I always say, this is part of Tom’s privileges but not meant to erase his talent and hard work.

Re: Zendaya—

As my anons and other tomdaya blogs have pointed out this week when news broke that Zendaya wouldn’t be attending the MET gala, she had a more tortuous path to achieving leading acting roles than she would have had if she had been, say, Tom or Timmy or Jacob Elordi or Austin Butler etc. She probably genuine loved/loves fashion, but especially in hindsight it’s becoming clear that she also used fashion, DWTS, and other side gigs to raise her profile so directors would notice her. I think it’s pretty clear that Sam Levinson casts for aesthetics and to get buzz, chose Zendaya probably primarily for those reasons, and then Zendaya used the opportunity to prove herself as a talented actress. (I suspect same for Spiderman, but the role for her in the MCU so far has sucked.) I don’t think it takes great effort reading between the lines of Denis Villenueve’s comments to understand that he even considered Zendaya at all for Dune 1 because of her high profile, then immediately saw in her what he wouldn’t have if he’d been able to continue simply ignoring her, then because of a some combination of her proving herself onscreen again and, let’s be honest, calls from entertainment media and fans to give her more screen time, wrote what seems like it’ll be a more significant role for her in Dune 2, a movie that’s primarily about another white man.

So I guess while I see your point that Zendaya is at greater risk of overexposure because she has a toehold in more entertainment sub-industries, I disagree with the implication that she this is a clear-cut “you reap what you sow” situation. Zendaya likely needed the exposure to get the acting career she’s got for herself. In fact, as I’m writing and thinking about what you said, I’m seeing another layer of racism and sexism, in which perhaps the very demands placed on woc to succeed are the source of their potential downfall, a lose-lose.

P.S. I do try to answer in good faith, so if I am misreading or misrepresenting your pov, it’s not an intentional effort to “serve my interests.”

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donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

Stevie's new beard

*gif by @marvelheroes*

Birthday shot #2 & Kinktober day 8 - Beard kink

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - You have some strong feelings about Steve’s new look.

Warnings - 18+ only please, smut(m/f), dom Steve, daddy kink.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x female reader

Word count - 2.5k

Masterlists are linked in the bio!

One more swift turn over the corner, your eyes squinting as you tried to concentrate, “That’ll show him,” grumbling under your breathe, pressing the scissors down, “done.” With a smirk on your face.

You had been working on cutting out Steve’s face from your honeymoon album. An album you had spent hours on, your blood, sweet and tears, literally, you must’ve gotten like five paper cuts working on it. But none of that mattered. You were mad.

No, you were fuming.

The previous year, you hadn’t been able to celebrate your birthday with Steve since he was called on an emergency mission. Which was fine at the time you had only been dating for a few weeks. And when he went to Siberia over a month ago, you thought he’d be back for your birthday for sure. Then you’d get to have him pamper you and baby you for the whole day, not that you needed such an excuse, but still.

It was one in the morning, your birthday had already started and you doubted that Steve would be able to make it. He had gone silent a week ago, for his teams and your safety.

Well, by the time he’s back you’ll have cut him out of all your pictures. Maybe you’d even go stay at your sister’s for a while. You missed her and needed a vacation and teach Steve a lesson. You wouldn’t be back until he’s growling on his knees - begging for your forgiveness.

Or maybe... he wouldn’t care. Maybe he’d be glad that you’re gone. You didn’t know what you’d do if that happened, you always seem to be weighing him down. You understood that being married to Captain America meant that you had to share him with the rest of the world. Most of times, you were alright with that. You didn’t care much for the Captain, he was fine but he was no Steve Rogers.

You sighed, giving up on your little project, thinking about maybe calling it a night. Hopefully your friends remember your birthday and do something special for you.

Slipping into Steve’s t-shirt – because as much as you were mad at him, you really did miss him. This was the longest you had been away from him.

Fluffing your pillow, keeping Mister Steebie next to you, you climbed on top of it. Ready to switch off the lights -

“Hey there, sweetheart,” you gasped when you heard the low rumble, clutching your neck, taken aback and panting.

Taking a deep breathe, you looked at your door over your shoulder, sighing when you noticed it’s Steve.

Except it wasn’t...?

“What the fuck?” you frowned and did a double take.

Getting off your bed and walking over to the door. He was still dressed in his dark stealth suit, his dirty blonde hair swept back, his jaw covered in a thick beard - a few shades darker than his hair.

You stopped a few steps away from him, taking in his new look. You didn’t know what to make of it but it did make you shiver - for some reason.

Your lips pressed in a flat line as you stared at him. He spread his arms out, in an attempt to hug you, probably, trying to close the distance between you but you took a step back. Eyeing him suspiciously.

“What’s wrong, doll?” he tilted his head to the side, giving you his Disney eyes.

“What’s wrong with your face?” you spat.

“What do you mean?” his eyebrows scrunched together as he rubbed a hand over his beard.

“Don’t do that!” you admonished him, folding your hands under your titts, perking them up.

“Do what?” scratching his beard, “You’re not making any sense, doll. Didn’t you miss me?”

“I did,” you huffed, “Do you know what date it is?”

“Yes, I do know. That’s why I’m here. I got back as soon as the mission wrapped up. Now come here and let me give you a birthday kiss,” extending an arm towards you.

“Nuh-uh,” you shook your head.

“Why?” he pouted. “I made it back in time, just like I said I would. I missed you, come on just one kiss... wait a minute. Is this about the beard?” You nodded. “You hate it? Tony said you would, I just didn’t have time to shave. I’ll go do it now then.” Since he was desperate for kisses and cuddles.

“No, don’t!” You pressed a palm on his chest, in an effort to stop him. “I mean, sure if you want to... but I don’t hate it. It’s kind of the opposite... I think. I just need time to process this.”

“Doll,” he exasperated, sighing, 'politely’ trying to tell you off. “I’m tired. And you’re really not making any sense.”

“I just fucking love your beard, ok!” you snapped. Your cheeks heating up at the brash confession. Clenching your thighs together. You shouldn’t like it as much as you did. It hides Steve’s beautiful face and makes him look so feral and dangerous. So not Steve.

“Really?” he quirked a brow, pulling you flush against his chest, “how much do you like it, puppy?”

“I - I don’t know...” Still embarrassed, you hide your face over his heart, rubbing your cheek against the rough kevlar of his suit. “I like it a lot, I think. Please keep it?”

He hummed, “But you won’t even look at me.”

“It’s a lot to take in, okay? It’s like, ugh remember when you saw me in my wedding dress?”

He'd never forget, he had cried like a baby. “This is nothing like that,” he rolled his eyes.

“It’s... give me some time. Small steps.” Bringing up a shaky hand to touch his soft fuzzy jaw, “Oh! Remember that time I bought that forties style nightie. And you went to town on me?” looking up at him, “This is like that.”

He nodded, finally understanding. “I get it, doll. But I’m afraid I don’t have time for ‘small steps’. I missed you so much,” Rutting his erection into your belly - as if to physically prove it. “And I need to make your birthday special. Treat the birthday girl right, huh?” He pressed his thumb on your cheekbone, caressing it, dipping his neck down to kiss you but you pulled away.

You hugged him again, standing on your tippy toes and nuzzling your nose in the crook his neck, his beard tickling you ever so slightly.

“I thought you wouldn’t make it. That I’d be all alone.” You whined. And then he comes back looking this good! Making it impossible for you to stay mad at him.

“Of course, I made it. Couldn’t let my best girl be alone. Now let me kiss you,” you shook your head again, “fine then. We can do your small steps. Let me eat you out,” biting the shell of your ear, “I’m hungry, doll.”

There was no way you could say no to that. “Oh - okay,” you gulped a huge lump of air.

Suddenly, he swept you off your feet, throwing you over his shoulder, his hand kneading your ass before smacking it, “Missed this sweet ass too.” he said, throwing you on top of the mattress. “I like this shirt on you, pup,” he smiled, his heart swelled as he felt strangely possessive of you, hovering above you, “But it had to come off.”

With a lack of finesse, his greedy hands ripped the poor clothing to shreds. He hadn’t gone so long without you. He needed to be inside you as soon as he could.

“Stevie!” You tried to chastise him.

He threw the shirt away, growling at the sight of your naked breasts, your hard pebbles, your hands coming up to cover them from his dark eyes. That won’t do, he pulled them away, pinning them beside your head. “What do you think you’re doing?” he frowned

You shuddered. Really, a beard shouldn’t make that much of a significant difference but it made him all the more intimidating. “Sorry, daddy.” You pouted. If nothing else, the D-word always worked.

He shook his head, capturing a nipple in his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. He made sure to run his beard over your breast. Letting go of your twisting hand as it clenched on the back of his head. Your back arching, pushing more your body to him.

With a loud ‘pop’ he let go of your hard nub, shoving two fingers in your mouth and ordering you to suck and like he obedient doll you were - you followed.

He pulled his fingers out, snaking his hand between your legs, dipping them in your heat. Then he noticed it and frowned.

Looking to his side, a sack of flour? No, looked fluffy enough to be cotton. “What is this?” he wanted to know.

You were too far gone to even register his words but you vaguely heard him. You bit your lip, following his eyes. “Oh, that’s Mister Steebie.”

“What?”

“That’s you. I missed you and I needed a cuddle buddy. So I stuffed some cotton in a sack, dressed him in your flannel and drew your face on him.”

His 'face' was just two dots with a blue sharpie, golden hair on his head and a pink mouth. “It’s cute.” he chuckled, grabbing ‘Steebie' and putting him on the floor, “But you don’t need him. You have the real thing now,” he reminded you, trailing kisses down your body, pushing your thighs apart to make room for him and settling between them.

“I suppose I should upgrade him now. Draw the beard on. I wonder if I have a brown sharpie,” you mused, yelping when you felt his teeth grazing over your clit. “God!” you heaved, propping yourself up on your elbows you looked down at him. A few strands of his hair had fallen on his forehead, he looked ethereal. “You’re so pretty, Stevie.” Your hand caressing his face.

He leaned into it, having been touch starved for over a month. “You’re the pretty one, pup. Now, will you be good for me? Let me treat my birthday girl right?”

You nodded. Laying back down, running your fingers through his longer locks.

“Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” he asked

“No, I followed your rules.”

“Good, I didn’t either.” Not that he had the time or space to anyway. But he wanted to save himself for you.

“Thor told me, women like a nice thick beard,” rubbing his face on your inner thighs, “he’s a bit of an oversharer. But I knew you’d like it too. Guess I was right.” He was smug about it too. He knew you inside and out. More than anybody else, maybe more than you know yourself.

He pushed your thighs apart as you squirmed above him, trying to clamp them on his head. “Now, sweetheart. I thought you promised to be good. Do I need to tie you up?”

You furiously shook your head. “No, please! I’ll be good.” Normally, you’d love to be tied up. But you needed to touch him, his face and his hair.

“I know it’s hard, pup, just try a little harder,” He tongue nudging at your entrance. His fingers spreading your lips apart, “such a pretty pussy,” he praised.

Wrapping his mouth around your clit and pushing his fingers in your pussy. He made sure to gather as much of your slick over his beard as he could, to make a mess of it.

You threw your head back, trying your best to stay still, it was too overwhelming, too good, “Stevie! Stop, stop please,” you begged, pulling on his hair.

He immediately pulled away, hovering back over you, inspecting you for any distress.

“I want to come with you inside me. Please.” you said, fluttering your lashes.

He sighed, “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Come on! It’s my birthday. You have to do as I say,” you giggled.

“As you wish,” he shook his head. He would’ve given in even if it wasn’t your birthday.

His fingers scrambling to get his dick out of his suit. Kissing your neck, sucking on your special spot, he pushed inside you. Digging his fingers in your hips, he bit your neck, “So fucking tight, doll.” He groaned, he was at the end of his rope, he couldn’t take it anymore, snapping his hips with a swift thrust he buried himself inside you.

“Stevie,” you mewled, feeling his tip pressing against your special spot. “Right there!”

Pulling his cock out and then pushing back, “Here?” he wiggled his hips, pressing his lips to your jaw.

“Yeah,” you gave a shaky reply. Already on the edge as he kept ramming in on your g-spot. “Steve, kiss me please?” You needed to feel his lips on yours, to feel his beards on your face.

Circling a hand under your waist to pull you up and closer to him, his hips setting a punishing pace, he crashed his lips on yours. Clashing your teeth together. He moaned as you pulled his bottom lip with your teeth, before kissing him again.

Letting go of his lips, just for a second to pepper kisses all over his beard and then kissing him deeply.

You clenched around his length, pulling his hair, biting the hilt to his jaw to stifle your scream. Waves of pleasure crashing over you one after another.

He came right after you, with a few more thrusts, filling you to the brim. He collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you.

He laid beside you, on his side your bodies still connected. He couldn’t have any of his spend escaping your tight cunt.

He kissed the crown of your head. “You liked your first gift?” he asked as you hummed. “Don’t worry, I got plenty more for you.” he smirked already feeling himself get hard again in your pussy.

When you were quiet for a while, so unusual for you, your fingers playing with his beard, “What’s wrong, pup?” He tilted your face up so he could see it.

“Nothing,” you shook your head. Suddenly feeling guilty for ruining your precious pictures. “They need you more than I ever will - your team and this world.”

“That’s... true. You don’t need me. You’re a strong woman, if anything I need you. But that’s a good thing, sweetheart. You want me. And that's enough for me.”

“Really?” Your lips curling up in a big grin as you nuzzled his beard, feeling awfully proud of yourself.

Steve’s heart was big enough to share him with the entire world. That he could still love you more than you could even begin to comprehend. And always make his way back to you. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

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#steve rogers x reader #kinktober #marvel kinktober #berrysbirthday #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #steve rogers x female reader

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

Walk Me Home Tonight (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, songfic

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 4700

Summary: Sometimes it’s hard to be in a celebratory mood when all you can think of is that life sucks and that being left on your own to drown your sorrows is for the best.

Sometimes people who care about you know better than yourself and come crashing your party of one.

Sometimes, despite the popular belief, you do realize how lucky you are having been introduced to Steve Rogers.

Warnings: mention of blood and violence and death, mention of alcohol, angst, fluff and language

A/N: P!nk’s Walk Me Home just does something to me, alright? Music video included - it’s soooo beautiful.

*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･

You stared at the amber liquid, lazily making it roll in the glass with idle motions of your wrist. It reflected the rather soft lights of the bar, an exquisite game of colour you found fascinating enough to dull your mind and muffle the noise of the party.

It wasn’t that you were a party pooper, not usually anyway; just… the timing wasn’t ideal.

Of course, Sharon could hardly move her birthday to make it more convenient for you, less so a party her colleagues had decided to throw for her. You knew Agent Carter for quite some time now; she had joined SHIELD about the same time as you, going through the same tough training. Except unlike you – and initially without your knowledge – she had an image to live up to.

You might even call her a friend, your chest bursting in pride for her when her hard work had finally borne some fruit and she had been promoted to an assistant director of the intelligence agency. Among other things, it earned her a lot of new potential friends.

You were hardly acting like one tonight, much to your own annoyance. But for some reason, you found it difficult to leave your momentary emotional baggage at the doorstep, slipping it off as easily as your coat. You had wished her all the best, conversed for a tiny bit and then happily made space for others, for the forming line of guests waiting to celebrate with her as well.

Then you retreated to your spot at the bar, possibly annoying the bartender, who would have been more delighted seeing some heavier drinker occupying your seat, tipping generously, instead of having you nursing each glass of alcohol for about two hours.

You weren’t even sure why you were still here; you had given up on the attempt on small talk with anyone, apparently unwittingly chasing away any potential company. And here you thought misery did love company – perhaps you were wrong, at least when it came to birthday parties of gorgeous women loved by everyone. You might as well pack up your bottom and sulk at home.

You were stubbornly shushing the voice in the back of your skull, whispering about knowing precisely why you remained in your seat; about feeling less alone here, despite being a literal loner in a crowd.

You downed the rest of the bitter scotch, basking in the burn which it left on its way down your throat, your eyelids slipping shut in content, the noise in your brain falling silent completely for few blissful moments.

“Party of one?” a male voice gently asked, the tinniest note of teasing in it and while your heart skipped a startled beat at being addressed, you felt the burn in your throat slip lower, warming your chest and causing the corners of your mouth turn up just a fraction.

There's something in the way you roll your eyes Takes me back to a better time When I saw everything is good But now you're the only thing that's good

“Felt like crashing it?” you hummed in response, side-eyeing the intruder and found a pair of cerulean eyes staring back. He blindly waved off the eager bartender who was about to offer him a drink.

Ah, poor guy. No tips for him tonight.

“Well, I didn’t get an invitation. Looks like crashing was my only option.”

You sighed tiredly despite Steve’s kind teasing. Tonight was just… so exhausting. Tonight. Today. This week. Gah, this whole month. This fucking year--- okay, maybe you were exaggerating, because you were simply crossing the line, moving from relaxed buzzed drunk to a miserable one.

Battling with yourself, arguing whether you should send him to hell – nicely, because Steve was nothing but kind, he was always so kind, goddammit, gentle humour spiced with the ability to become an utter troll, still benign though, that was why you usually enjoyed his company so much after all-… – or call it a night.

Or should you order another drink? Was there a point? You might cross the line to a clingy drunk eventually and you weren’t certain that was a good idea.

It was probably about as good of an idea as coming to a party despite feeling like shit on an emotional roller-coaster, dangerously inclining towards a very bad mood to put it mildly.

You tilted your head to side as you looked at Steve properly, tight blue shirt flattering his supersoldier frame, black pants with desperately needed leather belt considering his thin waist, his blonde hair a mess, gaze fixed on you, observing. Always observing to read people, to anticipate behaviour, evaluate the threat; sometimes simply to be considerate, to… to be compassionate.

Dammit, Steve.

“Must have got lost in the mail then,” you said eventually, offering a weak smile. “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s alright,” he shrugged it off, the curve of his lips more distinct than yours. As if he was offering to cheer you up. Sweet, but possibly vain effort tonight. Sometimes, things simply piled up and there was no escape. Such was the fate of a government agent. And human, for that matter. “Doesn’t look like much fun and I think it’s about to end anyway.”

“I guess…”

Tryna stand up on my own two feet This conversation ain't comin' easily And darling, I know it's getting late So what do you say we leave this place?

This time, Steve actually made an eye contact with the bartender, who eagerly rushed to him at instant. His excited expression fell when he noticed you were pulling out your wallet to close your tab. You didn’t have the strength to shoot him an apologetic smile.

Steve’s eyes were on you the whole time, you could feel them, and you wondered why. Until he spoke again, as soon as the other man left.

“Come on. I’ll walk you home,” he offered gentlemanly, coaxing you into saying yes, possibly unaware of the effect which such tone had on people.

Or perhaps he knew, using exactly that when he was trying to talk someone down, to calm them, gain their trust. The joke was on him, because it was a vain effort; you trusted him fully already. Surely, he knew that.

Right?

Trust was the solid base the team of Avengers needed and since you somehow found yourself with them, it involved you too. The team stood and fell on trust and mutual respect. But it meant so much more – they were friends. They cared about each other, about their well-being.

Right now, Steve was being a good friend and a good teammate.

And you were being exactly that too when you turned his kind proposition down.

“No, it’s fine. There are still some people who are actually able to speak coherently with you. Go enjoy yourself. I’ll be okay.”

“It’s three in the morning,” he pointed out, as if admonishing you for not noticing. Your eyebrow rose deliberately.

“…and?”

“And I’d feel better if you weren’t walking the streets alone,” he replied easily, ignoring the hint of snark in your comeback as you made your way to the coat-stand.

Still walking on the line of miserable and pleasantly buzzed, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mean to him for such patronizing approach. He had been raised this way and despite his open mind and admirable respect to women, he slipped sometimes.

“Steve, I’m a SHIELD agent basically turned Avenger. I can take care of my-“

“But you don’t have to. And-” He gestured subtly back towards the bar and a metaphorical lightbulb flickered above your head.

Not patronizing then, god forbid chauvinist; Peggy Carter would rise from the death to beat him with his own shield, with Natasha’s enthusiastic help, if he was showing any sign of aforementioned qualities and he was well-aware of that.

Just mother-henning then, the way Steve excelled at.

It brought the first honest smile of the night to your lips. You made sure to face him so he could see how wholesome his company was for you.

“I’m not too drunk, Steve. I had like two glasses of scotch,” you assured him, gently brushing his forearm before reaching for your coat and scarf. “And two beers.”

“I know,” he stated, stealing your coat only to hold it out for you to slip into it.

God, the woman who would once win his heart was about to be one lucky bitch.

Jim has never done this for me, flashed through your mind and you instantly shushed the whining voice in your head. Instead, you went over what he just said, blinking in surprise.

Huh? He… knew?

“I… might have kept an eye on you,” he admitted tentatively, the tips of his fingers brushing your shoulder before retreating and letting you to cocoon in the fabric.

“Why?”

Why would he keep an eye on you? Sure, teammates and friends and all that, but for some reason, you doubted he kept an eye on Tony, the only other Avenger (beside Steve, not Steve and you, you don’t count, a voice hissed in your mind and you winced) who attended the party, not being on any mission at the moment.

Why did Steve feel like you needed a chaperone?

No, that was too harsh of a word for him, you were certain his intentions were everything but malicious, but… why?

Walk me home in the dead of night I can't be alone with all that's on my mind, mhm So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on outside

The genuine wonder must have been audible in your voice, much like your shock must have been clear in your expression, because Steve seemed sheepish all of sudden, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Well, I mean, I know that you probably wouldn’t-“ he started, only to grimace. “It’s not that I think you’re an alcoholic! It’s just that... you--- and it’s only been-…“

-four days since you got dumped, you finished the unspoken sentence and tried your best to ignore the cold seeping into your bones at the reminder.

One of the reasons why you had been in a sour mood and deciding to drink alone. Your amazing asshole of a boyfriend had dumped you, metaphorically kicking you while you had already been down. Lovely.

“-I was worried. But you didn’t look like you were interested in having company, I didn’t want to be a bother and-“

You pulled Steve out of his misery by placing a hand over his forearm, which stopped the words spilling uncontrollably from his mouth.

He was actually being very sweet and thoughtful. It kinda made you feel bad, because… you weren’t looking for dragging someone down with you. As it was, he had his own reasons to not be happy about partying tonight, but feeling like he had to keep an eye on you probably didn’t help to lift his spirits.

“-and you had to spend some time with the woman of the hour,” you finished instead of him slowly, hoping you sounded at least half as thoughtful as he did and that you didn’t appear to be the greatest bitch, stealing attention from Sharon. “That’s understandable, Steve. It is her birthday party and I’m the one being antisocial.”

You bit down your lip, lowering your gaze, because the infamous worried wrinkle appeared on Steve’s forehead and you just knew he was about to protest and you… honestly felt bad about your behaviour and the welcoming colour of his eyes was not helping to make you feel any better, because of course he probably thought it was perfectly normal to look out for you instead of allowing himself to enjoy the night and- ugh.

“You… you shouldn’t have to look out for me. Your attention could have been fully on the birthday girl.”

Naturally, Steve Rogers basically shrugged it off. Covering your hand on him with his large palm, he slouched to look into your eyes once more. Insistent bastard, no doubt aware of your inability to say no to his amiable face.

“That’s what friends are for. Now, can I walk you home?”

You shook your head with a sad smile, rising your gaze towards the ceiling, hoping it came out as an exasperation at his stubbornness and not as it truly was – you in fact attempting to keep your tears at bay, because, miserable drunk, dumped four days ago apart from other things and there he was, asshole perfect, Steve fucking Rogers, gentleman and friend extraordinaire, caring for your well-being more than Jim ever had.

A twinkle appeared in his eye when he recognized he won and you chuckled, sealing his victory out loud.

“Yes, Steve. You can walk me home. It’s conveniently located on the way to yours.”

He smirked when he shrugged on his own coat. “Happy coincidences…”

There's something in the way I wanna cry That makes me think we'll make it out alive So come on and show me how we're good I think that we could do some good, mhm

Once you left the bar, silence fell on you, feeling heavy as did the cold November air.

Heavy and awkward. While you could tell with certainty you were barely affected by the alcohol you had drunk, your steps were wobbly, knees shaky as if you were a baby horse trying to stand up for the first time.

Steve walked by your side, majestic in his thigh-length coat, hands snugged in its pockets only halfway as if he was waiting for you needing his support. It irritated you as much as it warmed your heart.

On top of everything, you would swear every lone person you met stared at you, staring you up and down until they seemed to register Steve’s imposing frame and quickly went back to their business. It annoyed you to no end; it was just proving Steve’s point that you shouldn’t walk the streets alone at such hour, government agent or not.

“I would have been fine, you know,” you hummed, cautiously breaking the relative quiet.

It was never truly quiet in New York City, only rush hours alternating with calmer ones. You didn’t mind it; you enjoyed the city. Sometimes quiet meant that thoughts won the opportunity to become too loud; tonight, for some reason, despite the silence, Steve prevented that ever since he joined you.

It dawned to you then, how ungrateful you sounded and you quickly added “But thanks.” – a whisper full of honesty.

“Uh-huh.”

Perhaps the silence weighted so much because your mood wasn’t the only cause of it.

Steve was showing you that he worried; surely, you could as well? Because you did, worry about him that was.

“…are you? Okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked distractedly, but you could hear the frown on his face, the image of his nose scrunched in confusion painted in front of your eyes even without looking at him.

“Just… today-” you nudged him once more and vaguely eyed your watch only to be reminded that ‘today’ was a confusing term. “Or, more like, yesterday…”

A sharp inhale was drawn at your side and you could sense as he started closing off, putting up his walls so no one would catch a scent of his weakness. You hated when he tried to do that. You would have thought you were past that. You liked to consider you two friends at least.

Tonight was simply not your night. Of either of you, apparently.

“What about it-?“

You sighed, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. Were you truly such a crappy company, an insensitive friend or was there something sorrowful and cranky in the air, preventing your communication channels from tuning to the same frequency?

You were aware what the day meant for him – another painful reminder of what he had lost with crashing the plane in the forties only to wake up in a new millennium.

Though this particular loss – of his mother – haunted him even back in what some people called his days. It was an utter non-sense. Steve belonged there as much as he belonged here. He was brave enough to try and stubborn enough to succeed in fitting in.

“Nothing, I guess,” you sighed once more, this time rolling your eyes. “…Mr. Nothing Can Touch Me.”

The wry nickname hung in the air for a while, the faint noise of the night city washing over your pair. When Steve broke it again, there was a barely audible crack in his voice.

“I… I’m okay. I think. I… should be. It’s been so long. Decades,” he mused, turning his gaze to the sky. His eyes glistened and if you didn’t know him, hadn’t witnessed his walls lowering before, you would have thought it was just the streetlights reflecting.

You knew better. Tentatively, your fingers brushed his, not remembering when his hands had left his pockets. You were grateful for it now, especially when he didn’t retrieve from your touch instantly.

“Not for you,” you pointed out quietly, rewarded by the softest squeeze of his warm hand.

The heaviness and tension you had felt before resolved with the gesture. Something finally fell into place and you were almost you again and he was almost him.

Two figures, carrying their griefcases, but functioning and… harmonizing once more.

“How did you know?”

“That’s what friends are for, Steve,” you echoed his earlier words, sending a tiny smile his way, meeting his glassy gaze. “They remember important dates, good or bad.”

“No one else did. Not that I can actually hold it against Buck, of course... but no one… you…” his voice trailed off as he lost his train of thought – or perhaps he had never truly directed it to the station in the first place.

Your shoulders moved a fraction, a hint of a shrug-off. His hand wrapped around yours tighter in silent appreciation, not showing any sign of intending to let go.

And you were alright with that. More than alright.

Walk me home in the dead of night I can't be alone with all that's on my mind, mhm So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on outside

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

His presence was always immense, overwhelming even; yet so comfortable you didn’t have the slightest problem with opening your heart to him, offering it to him even when it was bleeding. And now, finally tuned together, it was no different.

You bared your heart to him, even if it hurt.

“She didn’t make it,” you whispered, voice pained in the dead of the night and he didn’t react, letting you to gather strength to elaborate. You cleared your throat as the lump grew in it. “Kayla, one of the kids… from last week’s mission. I found out yesterday… she-she didn’t make it, she had too many injuries. Word is that perhaps it was even a blessing. A relief.”

“I’m so sorry,” Steve repented, his grip growing stronger just a fraction, enough to make your chest and eyes burn.

“Yeah, so am I.”

Whatever he heard in your voice, it caused his fingers twitch in your hand, his footsteps slowing down. “You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

“Wasn’t it? If I was faster, if I-“

Steve stopped in his tracks completely, pulling at your hand to make you do the same and face him.

You closed your eyes when his blue ones met them, unable to stand the urgency in them. His free hand curled around your shoulder, caressing in attempt at comfort.

“Hey, hey, don’t do that to yourself.” Hypocrite, you threw back at him in your mind, stubbornly keeping your eyelids shut, simply knowing that if you saw the sincerity in his gaze in addition to the fervour he spoke with, you might actually believe him. “You did your best. I know that, Nat and Buck know, everyone does. A monster you helped to put behind bars hurt the kids. Not you. You saved so many lives.”

You shook your head with a sigh, staring straight ahead as you turned on your heels and continued your path. Steve, never letting go of your hand, followed reluctantly.

“Sometimes I think he might have been right, you know?”

Peripherally, you saw him frown again and you cursed yourself for drinking – it untangled your tongue and his stupid face made your spill your guts to him, vomit emotion. You weren’t too secretive about your feelings most of the time, but damn, you hated how alcohol pushed your boundaries of sharing them.

“… Jim. He said that maybe I should give it up. That I’m just running alongside you, heroes, pretending to be one of you, but in the end, I’m not even close to being as good-“

Steve’s feet took roots in the ground, his steely grip forcing you to stop – as long as you wanted to keep your hand attached, which yeah, you kinda did.

“I feel like taking a detour now,” he muttered darkly and for a short moment, confusion was everything you felt, blissfully overtaking the anger, the sorrow, the helplessness and the feeling of utter uselessness.

“Huh?”

“Where does Jim live?” Steve spitted out the name venomously and you couldn’t help the wave of affection washing over you. Affection towards this treasure of a man who apparently wanted to punch another human being because it offended his friend. “He has no business saying something like that. Especially if his bullshit actually affects you-”

“Steve, he wasn’t wrong, I’m just-“ you sputtered, caught off guard when you registered the fire in his glare.

“We all make mistakes. But that’s beside the point, because you didn’t even make any that day. I read the report, and I know you, you put everything you got and more into the rescue mission. How can he-“ he hissed, literally taking a calming breath as both of his hands balled into fist.

Well, one of them only nearly, since it was still holding yours. It actually stung a bit, the bones in your hand close to grinding against each other.

“-I haven’t met him many times, but if he said that instead of comforting you after an incredibly draining mission, then I’m glad that that asshole is gone from your life. … though I would still appreciate his address.”

Blinking away the few stray tears that welled up, you forced a smile as Steve’s strict glare found yours. It felt good, seeing his indignation; having someone else exasperated on how Jim had reacted. He should have given you a hug and hold you tight; that was what you would wish for. Instead, he told you to stop complaining and when you accused him of not supporting you, he called you a whiny bitch who should make up her damn mind and broke things off.

You deeply appreciated Steve’s display of chivalry, hell, you half-considered giving away the address just so Jim would hear someone else agreeing with you, but you were honestly just tired. And you had a feeling Steve wouldn’t stay only at words and seeing any more blood, any more aggression would have been too much for you tonight.

Tonight, you… you needed serenity and comfort.

“…thank you. That… that means a lot. But… maybe just walk me home? Please? Could you walk me home, Steve?” you pleaded softly, barely audible, not caring it sounded like weeping of a needy child.

Unbeknownst to you, that was the last thing you resembled in Steve’s eyes. Your imploring gaze, vulnerable and open, it moved something inside him, his anger silenced for the moment, leaving him defenceless, unable to say no. Not that he had an intention to do so. He always had trouble saying no to you.

So he forced his fists to relax, running his thumb over the back of your hand and whispered the only word that made sense.

“Always.”

You settled back to the comfortable silence after that.

Walk me home in the dead of night 'Cause I can't be alone with all that's on my mind Say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on

You reached the Tower hand in hand.

Neither of you released the other. Not during the elevator ride, not when you walked the halls lined with doors leading to each’s private quarters.

You were still holding onto each other when you came to a stop in front of your door; rest assured, Steve Rogers would lead you right to your door even if his was only at the end of the very same corridor.

Standing nearly chest to chest, his eyes bored into yours with seriousness that surprised you.

“For the record, you do a great deal of good,” he reassured you, saying it as if he truly meant it. It tugged at your heart, sweet and bitter. “You’re amazing and you’re the most authentic of all of us. I admire you.”

That claim caused you to chuckle. Now he was laying it on a bit thick, downright exaggerating.

“You admire me? Steve, that’s really nice of you to say, but don’t be ridi-“

Your words died in your throat when his large palm splayed over your cheek, cradling it gently. When the paddle of his thumb swiped over your other cheek, soft smile playing on his lips, his irises bright with a promise, time seemingly stopped along with your heart.

“And you’re a great friend to the whole team, a wonderful person. Do me a favour and finally learn to accept a compliment,” he asked of you in hushed voice, the electric blue and green of his eyes locking you in. “If he didn’t praise you enough for you to get used to it, he was doing something wrong.”

You gulped, a silly association with the word ‘praise’ allowing you to break from the cage of his gaze that had previously had your mind gone blank.

“I’m not a dog to be praised, Steve…”

One corner of his lips – and when did they got so close anyway? – twitched. And then a tender kiss landed on your forehead, just the softest brush of lips against your skin. The gesture, utterly incomprehensible for you, had your eyelids flutter shut.

“I’m very much aware. Believe me, doll, I know. Thank you for letting me walk you home.”

You only nodded at the ridiculous statement – why was he thanking you? – too perplexed at the fact his lips had made contact with your skin. When did you cross the line towards the delusional drunk?

His fingertips caressed your face as he let go, wishing you to have a good night. Too baffled, you were unable to respond until he had already made his way to his door and you suddenly missed the warmth of his presence.

Breaking free from your haze, you acted on impulse, apparently startling him when you called his name out of blue so urgently.

“Steve!”

Whipping his head around to look at you, you felt your heart jump into your throat.

“Uh… are you ready to go to bed or… or maybe… would you like to watch a movie or something?” With me?

I don’t think I’m ready to be alone. Ready to be without you.

Even from the distance, you would swear you saw his lips spread in a slow honey-sweet smile.

“I think I’d like that,” he called out lowly. “Ten minutes? I’ll get the blankets. You pick the movie.”

“See you in ten then.”

You pretended that your heart didn’t flutter, sending a wave of familiar tingle through your chest and to your fingers, as you slipped inside your room with your mouth curled up in a content smile.

Walk me home in the dead of night I can't be alone with all that's on my mind So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong There is so much wrong There is so much wrong going on outside

*✧･ Bonus *✧･

If Tony found them two and half hour later, closing credits rolling, the pair curled up and cuddling on the couch, you fast asleep in Steve’s arms, and he noticed that the supersoldier was in fact only faking to avoid an interrogation from the Ironman himself, he didn’t mention it. He just whispered to FRIDAY to turn off the TV and turn off the dimmed lights completely.

He hoped Rogers would treat you the way you deserved, unlike the man who now had farts announcing a received e-mail or texts, unable to change it, and a laptop turning on randomly, dead-pale children staring at him from the screen with hollow eyes and in clothes dripping water. Tony would hate to have to hack more tech again just to avenge your broken heart without your knowledge any time soon.

He’d rather suffer watching the two of his friends being disgustingly sweet on each other.

Probably.

*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･

S.R. masterlist

*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･

Silent thanks to the person who came up with the word ‘griefcase’ as an alternative to emotional baggage.

Also, I’m pretty sure songfics aren’t supposed to be so long... oops?

Thank you for reading!

#fanfiction #songfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #hurt/comfort #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #avenger reader #shield agent reader #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #walk me home tonight #anika ann

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mcheang · 3 years

Note

Hello. :) Lila is mistakenly identified as the person who committed a detention/suspension worthy offense. Her lies are revealed during the investigation. Marinette is the only person who believes Lila is innocent. Whether Lila is proven innocent is up to you. Redemption optional.

Where’s your evidence?

What are Lila’s current crimes?

Theft, truancy, lying, bullying

But now... blowing up the science lab?

Miss Mendeliev warned the class to be serious and pay attention to detail since they were experimenting with volatile chemicles.

She confiscated Rose’s perfume and pretty much all cell phones.

Lila even bragged about having done harder experiments. This blew up in her face quite literally. Everyone knew the explosion came from her desk.

Cameras proved it as well. It didn’t help Lila’s case that she was more focused on whispering stories than listening to Mendeliev.

Lila protested she did exactly what the instructions said. Do you think she would have wanted her looks to be ruined by an explosion? (Mostly everyone escaped unharmed but Lila’s face had minor burns and her hair was singed)

No matter. Lila will be suspended and her mother will have to pay for the damage to the lab.

Mrs Rossi was called over and told of the incident. She tried to appeal for a lighter punishment. Honestly, with the school being shut down for months, (online classes notwithstanding) is it really a good idea for Lila to miss more school?

Damocles: shut down?

Lila’s brain: oh crud

Bustier: what are you talking about? The school has never been shut down for more than a day. Ladybug and Chat Noir defeat the akuma within the hour. 2 at most.

Mrs Rossi: that’s not what Lila told me. It’s why she’s been at home for months now, with all these akumas around your school

Damocles: I do not deny Dupont is an akuma hotspot, but we have not been shut down for months!

Bustier: in fact, Lila told us the reason for her absence was because you were taking her to Achu on another diplomatic mission

Mrs Rossi turns to stare at her shrinking daughter. “I have never even been to Achu. Lila, have you been playing truant for months? Why?”

Knowing blaming Ladybug will get her nowhere, Lila claims to be afraid of being akumatized again after her Volpina incident. Or around akumas.

Mrs Rossi: that’s no reason to lie to me! I could have just tranferred you to a different school!

Bustier: out of curiosity, does Lila have tinnitus? Or even knows Jagged Stone?

Mrs Rossi: what does that have to with anything?

Bustier: Lila has been claiming numerous ailments in her efforts to help charities and from hanging out with her celebrity friends

Mrs Rossi: well, while I know Lila has mentioned being part of charity events, I can assure you she is perfectly healthy and all her friends, except her boyfriend Adrien, are not famous.

Bustier: Adrien is still single and is most assuredly not dating Lila.

Damocles: perhaps it’s her lying disease acting up. The one that makes her lie uncontrollably

Mrs Rossi: ...that’s called compulsive lying, you egghead!

Damocles: but...wouldn’t that mean she was lying about Miss Dupain-Cheng?

Bustier: I’m afraid so.

Damocles: I’m going to have to apologize to her again, aren’t I?

Both women: obviously

Needless to say Lila is expelled instead of suspended, though Mr Damocles decides to conduct a proper investigation before making it official

Lila is forced to confess in front of the whole class.

Kim: so the explosion was probably some attempt to make us feel sorry for you!

Lila: are you kidding me? If I wanted to make you feel sorry for me, I wouldn’t actually hurt myself to do it! I am telling you for the last time, I followed those lab instructions and no, I did not misread the chemical labels.

Alix: probably too busy bragging to bother checking

Marinette: i cannot believe i am saying this, but I think Lila is innocent about the lab explosion

No one misses the irony of the situation. After Lila herself framed Marinette, and the latter kept on calling her a liar, now Marinette is the only one defending Lila and insisting the latter was framed.

Alya: girl, I know you like to forgive bullies and all, but this is a bit much

Marinette: i haven’t forgiven Lila. I’m just being logical. Vain as she is, do you honestly think Lila would risk injuring her appearance? She favours fake injuries not real ones. Even if she can’t stop talking about herself, she knows when to pay attention.

Mendeliev: be that as it may, the proof is in the footage. Lila used the wrong chemicals and now the lab still smells of smoke

Marinette: maybe the labels were mixed up?

Pause. Ok, that could be true, except...

Mendeliev: impossible. It wasn’t only me who checked the lab preparations. It was double checked by lab assistants and triple checked by Caline.

Caline nodded. “It’s true. Everything had been labelled correctly. I am sorry but Lila has to take responsibility for her carelessness.”

Lila: oh for crying out loud, if I lie and said something glamorous, would you believe I am innocent then?

Lila was taken away. It would take time for her mother to find a new school that would accept such a troublesome student, but in the meantime, Lila would need to find a job. Her allowance has been cut off and the damage costs were paid out of her own funds.

Marinette talked to Tikki about this. The former still believed Lila was innocent. Tikki herself decides to give Lila the benefit of the doubt, but the evidence is hard to deny.

Marinette: we could see Lila reading the instructions and labels in the footage. I wonder what’s really going on.

That night, as Marinette slept, Tikki confronted Plagg.

Plagg: so I switched some labels. It’s not like anybody saw me.

Tikki: that was really dangerous

Plagg: please. You’re talking to the kwami of destruction. Like I don’t know how to mix chemicals. Pfft.

Tikki: but why now? After all the horrible things Lila has done, why now?

Plagg: after a couple of joint photo shoots, she complained that Adrien stinks of my cheese to his dad, and now I’m stuck with plastic-wrapped cheese sticks.

Tikki sighs. Of course.

Plagg: besides, think of the good it did. Liar girl is exposed and out of our lives. (True. Lila has decided to move on from Dupont)

Tikki: I still feel sorry for her mother having to pay for the damage you caused

Plagg: think of it as the cost for not properly raising her daughter.

Tikki: you could have caused an akuma.

Plagg: but i didn’t.

Tikki: actually why didn’t we see any butterflies? There should have been enough negative emotion for Hawkmoth to send one.

Plagg: gee, maybe because the riot across the city was angrier than a school issue? (Lately the akumas came from them)

Tikki: oh yeah.

#miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #Lila is exposed #Lila gets exposed #Lila salt #ml salt fic #boy who cried wolf #Lila is innocent #Lila moves on #Marinette défends Lila #post episode ladybug #post ladybug episode

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symeona · 3 years

Note

Idk if this is something you're even interested in hearing about, but for the majority of my very american white bread life, I thought that all of the stories like PJO and LO were cool and fun ways to spread greek mythos, while not really knowing myself the inaccuracies and disrespect these series both carry, not only to the values they claim to espouse such as anti-racism, spreading mental health awareness, and feminism, but just how wrong they get the Greek side of things too. I just feel/see more and more how majorily Americans refuse to believe that taking Greek culture and misrepresenting it, bastardizing it, and hollywood-izing it is a bad thing, and how it deserves some respect for the ancient culture it is beyond "hardy har zeus scum cheater man" and "uwu rick/smythe are the final opinion on greek mythos". It's become such a mainstream thing here for people to use LO and PJO as literal scholarly interpretations of myths and the entire reason Greek mythology is as popular today while simultaneously ignoring the work Greeks have done to make their culture known, and I myself don't know the half of their efforts. The entitlement to tell someone, from my own personal experience, that they have the right to retell and change myths to their own will just because greek myths happened to be taught in their history class therefore making it fair game for Americans is just... how can so many people who claim to be on the left not realize their own imperialism right there? And then, god forbid you ask them about anything about greek history or culture that isn't Alexander the Great or the Illiad. They know nothing of Greece's roll in WW2, or what the Ottomons did to them, nothing at all.

Sorry for the rant, but I felt you would have an opinion I haven't heard on it before and I'm trying to see how different people view this issue.

Aaaa oof. Okay..

One issue with "Greek myths" is that the version most ppl know now, was published by archeologists who interpreted the stories through their own lenses almost 100 years ago. Zeus wasn't the 'King of gods', that's some christian bs right there. The largest Temple ever found is the one for Hera in Samos. But still, all gods were equal. And myths are so different from place to place that I don't think you'll ever find the "original" story.

And don't talk to me about the Great Alexander, that monster. How ppl have hero worship for that prick is beyond me. Ironically his horse was called Bullhead.

So, you mentioned the Ottoman occupation.

⚠️ I'll mention violence.

We called it 600 years of enslavement by the Empire. And it was. The scars from that time are still with us today. When I say 'entire islands and cities were burned to the ground' I mean it. This year marks 200 years of liberty which is cool, but yeah I can't tell you what a kid feels when they look at their history and all they find is bloodshed.

Victims from Smyrna are still alive today. And if you read what happened there please be warned.

So Greece went from 600 years of occupation and slavery, to the Balkan Wars, to ww1, to civil war, to ww2, to more civil war, to martial law/ dictatorship in the 1970s, and now .. well, let's say, we've had democracy for 50 years. My dad was a kid during the Polytechnic Uprising where tanks ran over children in front of their parents.

I hesitate to say Greece is part of Europe or 'the Western world'. Because during each one of these tragedies the Allies watched my people burn and die. Should they have the authority to claim our history as their own? I don't know.

Anyway, I hate to leave you on a sad note so I'll just add that, during the wars Greece let women fight, look for Bubulina and Manto Mavrogenous. Those two were high ranking officers.

And for a funny (kind of) anecdote: Greeks celebrate the 28th of October as "Ochi day". And the story is that during ww2 an Italian ambassador told our prime minister "hand Greece over to us and there won't be war". Our prime minister simply told him "Ochi" which means "No." Though actually, he said "Alors, c’est la guerre." (So, it's war.) And then people ran out in the streets chanting "Oxi" cause you know... Fuck Mussolini. We actually won the battle with the Italians so sksksksk

I love this story cause it's so.. Greek. We said "Nope." And then celebrate it every year by singing very offensive songs about goofy fascists. It's great. If anyone wants to write a story in modern Greece, please know that every kid knows this song by heart.

youtube

Here are the lyrics translated, though I realize it's hard to comprehend. We have too many creative words. Macarona literally means Macaroni-man for example.

#ask #long post #greek history #tw violence #as always feel free to google these if you have more questions

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2lim3rz · 3 years

Note

I know I keep bothering you but I have no one else to turn to when it comes to WH, and now I’m creating head canons because of you. Like, imagine getting close to the primarchs and the emperor to the point that you can like walk up to them during a free moment. Gently usher them down to your height before cupping their cheeks and giving them one of the softest look, one of pure adoration and love. Like they planted the stars in the sky type look before pulling away, fixing their armor or hair back into place and walking away to continue your job. Just…I know there is a lot of angst, but come on, just something soft.

NAAAAH DUDE! SPAM ME WITH THAT SHIT! GO FOR IT! I LIVE FOR IT!! ANYHOW!

Yes. I love this. Just.. so cute..

So.. here you go:

GENTLE MOMENTS WITH VARIOUS PRIMARCHS [AND THE EMPEROR OF MANKIND]

Order of characters based on whoever I think of first

LORGAR AURELIAN

Any time you did that, his mind would be blank. Which is a surprising thing to do to a primarch considering how primarch minds work.

Tbh, probably even thinks you're gonna give him a lil kiss, but the moment you open your eyes from blinking, he's kinda glad he didn't

Just, that look in your eyes. Such a gentle look that he had never seen before, a look that almost seemed to tell him that he's alright and will be okay. The last time he can remember an even vaguely similar look is.. from before Kor Phaeron found him.

All the same, just picture the smallest, tired little smile on Lorgar as he half closes his own eyes [he'd close them completely, but he enjoys that adoring look you have too much]

Of course, when all you do is gently hold his face, one of your thumbs running over his cheek bone, he'd sigh softly and watch as you let go to let him continue with whatever he had to do

LEMAN RUSS

I wouldn't say Leman Russ tolerated you, but he certainly pretended that he did, he may be a friendly [comparatively] primarch, but he liked to hang out with his brothers and Space Wolves more in his downtime [what little there was] [alsomostly because he could rough house without having to worry]

So, when you usher him down, he makes a show of it. Rolling his eyes and making a sort of grumbling growl as he kneels and leans down enough to look you in the eyes properly

I also wouldn't say that you don't surprise him, but you do. You catch him offguard every time because he lowkey doesn't expect that of all things. He's used to roughing around, even the women on Fenris are rough around the edges. It's all in his culture

When he sees you look at him like that, like he isn't some giant pinnacle of man. Like he isn't some born leader literally raised by wolves, he feels cherished. A different sort of cherished than when he's out-drinking his Wolves and brothers. A gentle feeling of being wanted

Of course, when all you do is gently hold his face and fix one of the braids in his hair, he can't help but chuckle and ruffle your own hair before continuing with his business

HORUS LUPERCAL

Gentle moments with Horus? Few and far between. Literally all work, little play, so it's hard to catch him when he's not overly busy. Well "overly busy", which really means you manage to corral him in a moment alone.

It's a mix of you standing on something and gesturing down and, like Leman, he's warmly laughing at your shenanigans and kneeling down. Asking what you're doing.

Horus gives you a very wide grin as all you do is gently hold his face and look at him. You close your eyes and then look up at him with a face that tells him all he needed to know, though he wish he was a mind speaker so he could tell you all those silent feelings too.

He'd close his eyes and sigh, leaning into your touch and chuckling as you gently adjust the wolf fur cloak on his armor and let him go. Opening his eyes, Horus would smile and give you a gentle touch of his own onto your face before resuming whatever he was doing with a parting goodbye

THE EMPEROR OF MANKIND

Finding a moment alone with the Emperor takes a special kind of determination. Even then, he's still technically not alone because of his Custodes. Oh well, you take what you can get Or in this case, give

So, in the soonest moment you manage to wrangle yourself a moment with the Emperor. He's grumpy [when is he NOT when not celebrating victories?] and asks you why does he need to kneel and so on, so forth. When you convince him to get down, he's looking at you with surprise as you just.. hold his face [Of course, it's slightly difficult with how the Custodes are blatantly standing at ready, but shhh]

Either way, you have the Emperor's attention as you look at him adoringly. There's something different about it.. something.. honest. He's used to the adoring looks of billions and trillions, but not this sort of honest love. It makes him feel odd as he leans into your hands.

You surprise him a bit [and also disappoint him] when one of your hands move to push a strand of hair behind his ear and let go. That's it? All that effort for just a little tender touch?

It makes him feel a little more human, honestly.

#2lim3rz chats to anonymous #emperor of mankind #horus lupercal #leman russ #lorgar aurelian #emperor of mankind x reader #x reader #lorgar aurelian x reader #leman russ x reader #horus lupercal x reader #2lim3rz writes #headcanons

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faunusrights · 3 years

Text

what is going on with all the bias on robyn hill’s wiki page, anyway? - an aside

As someone who uses the RWBY wiki with some degree of frequency - often because I’m looking for art references, or Semblance and weapon names - I’m used to... some amount of bias in the articles for different characters? Like, let’s be real, it’s not a perfect wiki! Community-maintained stuff isn’t easy to all keep on the same track! But, generally, it gives the facts well enough and doesn’t do too bad a job keeping all the balls in the air when it comes to new information from all four corners of this franchise.

Well, until you open the article for Robyn Hill, and realise it’s an absolute disaster. Like, really; the impartial voice just plain doesn’t exist for her, and almost all of her wiki is written in such a way that she reads as being an absolutely insufferable, hostile, hard-to-like character. Even if you aren’t a fan of Robyn personally, you have to admit that if you hadn’t seen the show yourself, you might very well come away from her article presuming she’s a major antagonist of Volumes 7 and 8.

Like, for instance, let’s take a look at the first paragraph of her Personality section:

Robyn has a direct and confident personality, having no trouble being confrontational with Atlas personnel, including the Ace Operatives. Robyn also seems to suffer from overconfidence and arrogance, shown in her encounters with Ruby and celebrating her election victory before it was verified. She is aggressive and hostile in nature, quickly jumping to conflict without thinking through consequences. However, she is also shown to be reasonable when the situation calls for it.

And, for good measure, here’s another paragraph from the same section:

In "With Friends Like These" Robyn displayed a rather impulsive side of her personality, when upon hearing that James Ironwood's plan to abandon Mantle and arrest those against him, she started a fight between herself, Clover Ebi, and Qrow Branwen onboard a Manta with Tyrian Callows in custody. Despite the fact, there was no order or her arrest. Her brashness led to Tyrian breaking free and crashing the Manta as well as her becoming unconscious.

(Taken from Robyn’s RWBY Wiki page. Bolding is mine.)

In every instance here, all of the “negative” aspects of her personality take centre stage; she’s confrontational. She suffers from arrogance. She is aggressive and hostile. She started the fight. Her brashness led to the crash. All of this is only compounded when her positive traits trail behind as an afterthought; she’s direct and confrontational, overconfident and arrogant, aggressive and hostile, impulsive and jumps to conclusions... but hey! As least she’s reasonable when the situation calls for it.

The way that this information is presented to the reader is quite literally on par with how the wiki presents the personalities of the actual literal villains who appear throughout the show. Let’s take, for instance, the Personality section of Cinder Fall:

Cinder is ruthless and sadistic, as demonstrated when she delivers a killing blow to a clearly defeated Pyrrha Nikos in "End of the Beginning" and when she throws a spear at a defenseless Weiss Schnee in "The More the Merrier." She is relentlessly driven to gain power and determined to cross any line to obtain it. Cinder demonstrates a cunning that shows in her successful manipulation of events and people throughout the first three volumes. Cinder is also arrogant and egomaniacal, and as such, relishes in dominance and gloating, displaying shameless pleasure in the misery she has caused others.

Or, the Personality section of Raven Branwen:

Raven is cynical, patronizing, selfish and stubborn. She believed her act of "kindness" of saving Yang's life from Neopolitan was sufficient despite having left Yang at a very young age and refused to protect her daughter when in need after that.

Raven is also very prideful and hypocritical, refusing to acknowledge her faults and always trying to justify her actions both to others and to herself, often putting the blame on others for them even if she feels real guilt about them.

It makes sense that for an antagonist, the primary faults and flaws of their personalities will come first, as to better represent them as the villains to clarify to the reader who they are and why they act as they do in their storylines. However, the fact that Robyn arguably has an even more caustic write-up then Raven, despite not being an antagonist, goes to show the lengths this writer has gone to present her in a significantly more negative light than she ever appears in the show.

If this doesn’t seem convincing, let’s look at a more direct comparison; what does the wiki say about Ironwood? He’s present in the same seasons, and has now become more of an antagonist in the latter episodes; is the wiki quite as blunt about his flaws?

Ironwood is courteous to his allies, as shown by his first onscreen interaction with Ozpin and Glynda Goodwitch. He is also far-thinking and tactical, wondering about the future, as seen when he speaks to Ozpin about Qrow Branwen's message. He also has a jovial, friendly, humorous and proud public persona, which he uses as a spokesman for the weapon manufacturers of Atlas.

However, as courteous Ironwood may appear, he can also be incredibly blunt, often preferring the direct approach. When he feels necessary, Ironwood is not afraid to bring the full might of his military command to bear, which sparked disagreements with both Glynda and Ozpin. Nevertheless, Ironwood is extremely loyal to his comrades, and however questionable his methods may be, he seems to have genuinely good intentions behind them.

Uh, no.

Instead, when his flaws are mentioned (for example, being blunt), it’s written in a significantly less... abrasive manner. It’s referred to as the direct approach, versus Robyn who is described as confrontational. Even then, his flaws are folded in to his (alleged) positive traits; he is not afraid, extremely loyal, and has genuinely good intentions, despite the fact that the show has now proven that Ironwood’s flaws greatly outweigh these. It reveals how thoroughly all of Robyn’s actions are presented as the work of an arrogant troublemaker, whilst Ironwood’s actions are presented as the efforts of a man working towards some greater good.

Also, I’ll add that in both examples, I used the first two paragraphs of their Personality sections. These are both the first two things you read about these characters, yet look at how differently they’re summarised.

What is interesting, however, is that despite this bias being extremely self-evident, the comments on her page generally chime agreement, referring to her as “overconfident, arrogant, impulsive and hotheaded to the point of being unlikable”, and claiming that she’s “literally the worse character in the show next to cinder, blake and yang”[1]. Someone mentions that Robyn has earned quite the hatedom... but why?

Broadly, my experiences of Robyn Hill’s writing in the fandom has been through a queer lens, and the vast majority of writers who’ve covered her and the Happy Huntresses have been women, or queer, or trans, or all the above... basically, the people who are usually responsible for a vast majority of fanfiction, let’s be real. These writers love Robyn, and have explored and extrapolated on her character to marvellous degree. Yet, at no singular point have any of these flaws ever been written quite as strongly as the wiki implies they are, nor have I seen much evidence of them myself in the show. For instance, let’s take one of the more serious points in her Personality section; she started a fight between herself, Clover Ebi, and Qrow Branwen [...] her brashness led to Tyrian breaking free and crashing the Manta as well as her becoming unconscious.

When we watch this scene again, Robyn did initiate the fight... because she was rightfully aware that Clover would obey his orders, even if they were wrong. Despite everything that happened prior in the entirety of Volume 7, when given orders to bring Qrow in alongside RWBY, it was clear that Clover fully intended to follow it through, which Robyn knows from prior experience with the AceOps:

[image ID: two images of Clover, Robyn and Qrow in the dark-grey interior of the Manta ship. Robyn has her weapon aimed at Clover as he stands in front of Qrow. Clover is saying “Only Qrow is under arrest [...] please don’t make me arrest you too.”]

Her knowledge of the AceOps means that she reacted accordingly; trying to stop him from taking Qrow in and obeying Ironwood’s plan the only way she knows the AceOps respond to. Her reaction isn’t unwarranted. However, my point isn’t to argue that Robyn was right or wrong, but rather that regardless of who started the fight, the way the wiki explains this specific incident is that it’s solely Robyn’s fault that Tyrian escaped and crashed the Manta, but we know this isn’t the case. Robyn and Qrow both fought Clover, and it was Clover’s good luck (or Qrow’s bad luck, depending on how you view it) that allowed for Kingfisher to break Tyrian’s bonds. Her brashness is blamed for the outcome, but in reality, this outcome could have been avoided together if Clover had not chosen to follow his orders and bring in an innocent man. Also, she didn’t crash the Manta! That was all Tyrian! The intentional tying together of these two events as her fault, however, are a neat package of blame.

In these instances on the wiki, Robyn’s personality appears amplified, focusing specifically on her flaws and exaggerating them to the extremes that, as noted earlier, matches the language used to define the very villains of the series. Yet, the people who enjoy her and the Happy Huntresses often perceive those same flaws to a significantly lesser extent, or even see those flaws as actually being boons of her character; for instance, reading her alleged arrogance as passion. So, why such division?

Before, I mentioned her “negative” traits, and I put this into quote marks because traits don’t always align nicely into good and bad. All aspects of a person can vary on how positive they are based on context - even the show proves this, with protectiveness becoming paranoia (Ironwood) or loyalty becoming subservience (Winter). Even a character that is broadly composed of more unfavourable traits can have this contextual shift; Cinder’s stubbornness to her goals makes her a fast learner and a tenacious opponent.

Yet, why did the writer (or writers) choose to highlight almost every aspect of Robyn’s character as a bad thing? Why did they frame her decisions as such? I have a suspicion it’s to do with her character at large; she’s a bold socialist politician who believes in equality and fairness for all, who refuses to stand for incompetence and obedience towards evil causes. She’s outspoken in her views, and reacts strongly to those who threaten to overturn her work. Also, she’s a woman, in charge of a group of other women, at least one of whom is canonically trans. To those who agree with her in real life, Robyn appears as a great character! We admire her work ethic and we support her ends. To those who may not... well, it’s not hard to see how they might perceive her as more of a cocky, authority-defying upstart. Of course, the core text of RWBY doesn’t quite believe the latter; RWBY has always placed Robyn as the direct counter to authoritarianism, whether it be Jacques, Clover, or Ironwood, and even the article admits that she is a potent voice for the people of Mantle. Still, it’s clear that there’s plenty of people in a vocal minority who are deeply dissatisfied by Robyn, and aren’t afraid to make their stance on the matter exceedingly clear.

So, what does this all mean? Well, here’s what we can say for sure; Robyn’s article is, and has always been, stringently biased against her character, and often misconstrues her motives and decisions. This is maybe the more obvious part, but how should her article be worded to make this less so? Likely, I’d rephrase a lot of it to be less damaging to her character; she isn’t hostile, she holds people accountable. She isn’t quick to jump to conflict, she is familiar with how Atlas responds to anti-authority with violence. She isn’t arrogant, she believes in the power of the people as being the right thing to fight for. Even this makes it clearer that her character is about resisting the oppression inherent in Atlas, and is a much clearer outline of her personality as a whole. People may disagree with this phrasing and summary also, but given her character is based on Robin Hood, it’s also not far from the mark in terms of what she should represent.

TL;DR: Robyn’s wiki page is written with a deep bias against her character and what she represents, acts upon, and chooses to do in the show; I have no doubt that in canon, this sort of language would probably be used by Jacques himself as a smear campaign, haha. Whilst I can’t speak for the author and their motives, I have a distinct feeling that this article was written, or edited, by someone who is either:

not a fan of Robyn

not a fan of a new female character

not a fan of a new female character in a position of power

not a fan of a character with socialist/communist/antifa ideals

all of the above and then some???

Even though I’m not going to edit her wiki page (I’m very shy and I’ve never done it before), I think it’s worth analysing this if only as a reminder of the inherent biases of an author even when people are trying to present a character’s information impartially. This isn’t the first wiki I’ve seen misconstrue - or even make incorrect assumptions on - facts about a character, and it won’t be the last. In the meantime, though, I leave you with this fact:

Robyn Hill slaps huge nuts and I love her.

[1] I’m not naming the users who posted these things here, because it’s unnecessary. You can find them for yourself at the bottom of Robyn’s wiki, but there’s no need to respond; some people just don’t like Robyn, and that’s fine - I’m just explaining how bias leaks into wikis like water into a sponge. It happens!

#rwby #rwde #robyn hill #murphy's thoughts and vibes on this shit (again)#is this a new tag #i haven't really written this well and it was sort of off the cuff so sorry if there's mistake #*mistakes #LMAO #i just wanted to lay my Thoughts out #i swear if even one person msgs me like 'but robyn DOES suck' im banishing you to the Spray Cheese Hell Dimension #also im tagging as rwde but its not rwde against the show (FOR ONCE??) so

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klaineownsmysoul · 3 years

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D is only celebrity ive seen that stands with his hands in front of him whole his 'other half' hangs on.. any couple and not just celebrities don't stand like this.. heck even friends never stand like this.. it's only D and only with her.. of course still we start commenting on it and then we get a nice lover dovey pic...

What - you didn't know? That's the official seal of special togetherness. That's how every couple who's been together since the dawn of time and can't bear to be apart even for a moment looks when standing on a red carpet together. Or when posing for a pic or sitting next to each other. You just aren't aware of it because no other known couple has the sublime and true love that makes up special togetherness. I mean any old couple can look happy and content to be in each other's presence. When one half of a couple looks like they'd rather be literally anywhere else or with anyone else - well, that's just the stuff dreams are made of. We can all only hope to one day be in a relationship like this one.

I'm still waiting for a legit reason for her to even be included in these moments. Why does the non-famous, unemployed plus one sometimes guest who didn’t want to be part of a public relationship of a celeb necessitate red carpet pics in the first place? Its the DEH red carpet scenario all over again: he's doing fine on his own, then she scurries over, assumes the position, and then is whisked away so he can finish up by himself. She has a standard pose, its only fair that he would have one too: body facing completely away from her and towards the camera, hands folded in front of himself as he wears the world’s most “JFC here we go again, I am so uncomfortable” expression on his face. He barely acknowledges her presence next to him and makes no effort to touch her in a way that looks like he’s in love with her. Or even in like with her. Or wants her there. Any physical contact comes from her - she’s grabbing his arm or hanging a possessive claw around his neck or on his shoulder as she did here. Not a thing about it looks natural. Forced affection never does. He’s a thing to her and not a person; its all about what he can provide her - admission to events like this, red carpets, notoriety as his wife. My favorite part here was the pat on his shoulder at the end: it was the most obvious “thanks for the promo, dude” you’ll see as she’s dismissed. Then once she was gone he livened up and we got a little bit of personality from D. And of course there will be some extra affectionate coupley pic released to counteract his stoic silence here because his goddamned team is so fucking predictable. Its more important that they look like a couple than their client be happy.

Those memorial day pics? The only times he looked happy or was smiling was when she wasn’t next to him. We’ve seen him in pics with lots of other women and he’s got a great big smile on his face in those. When your husband looks happier in pics with fans who are complete strangers than he does with you, well, I’m not going to say it...

Its awful to watch and I hate seeing him being used like this. I hate the fact that I dread him doing things because she’ll most likely be there too, hanging all over him with that fake Joker grin plastered on her face, possessive grip on his body, and her fake engagement ring still prominently displayed. Its been over 2 years now since your great party - FFS move on already.

#I'm not even bringing up the fact that she was at a pride event with him to reinforce his straight image #but that's all she's there for at anything he goes to

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madsdefencesquad · 3 years

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The semi-companion piece to Kevin's one and it's all about Mads, of course. Dedicated to Kevison Nation (every single fudging one of you) and to @flythesail and @penny259 (your comments have me weeping haha 😚). Also on ao3.

A little into Madison Pearson by x (with additions) Summer 2026

I first met Madison Pearson a year ago at George Clooney’s 65th birthday celebrations in Perthshire, Scotland in a fashion closer to that of long-travelled friends who haven’t seen each other in years than that of complete strangers who just so happened to enjoy the same foodie indulgence (bacon-wrapped dates, anyone?). Despite the grandeur of the guests present at the lavish affair – politicians, laureates, philanthropists and A-list celebrities (including her own husband actor Kevin Pearson) – Madison Pearson had the kind of invigorating energy that just drew absolutely anyone in.

Perhaps it was the enchanting mix of contained excitement and understated class she exuded that will warm you upon beholding up close, or perhaps it was the charm of a more loquacious woman of California mixed with the rare intelligence of a world-traveller. Either way, despite the taxing social waltz her husband took her throughout the night bumping elbows with the elites, Madison was one of those people who truly left a lasting impression.

Squeezed next to her in the back of a cab, Madison is head-to-toe in Temperley London x Axel Arigato (vintage-inspired nautical jumpsuit and platform suedes) en route to a baking class where her five-year-old twins Nick and Franny are waiting for her to join them along with their father.

“I was supposed to get changed,” she says, lamenting on her attire worn for a meeting with some West Chester development executives that’s perhaps too luxurious for an afternoon of mixing flour and butter and sugar. “But you have to make at least a bit of an impression, right?”

Madison has been the powerhouse head honcho of the Pearson family business, Big Three Homes, since its establishment three years prior. With a solid background in business management and a surefooted ability to navigate the mores of an ever-changing property development landscape, it was no question that Madison would rise up to the challenge of breaking into the market with a business model founded on family, philanthropy and sustainability.

Despite growing up largely independent without people close enough to call family, Madison has also found the means to speak about her experiences in an effort to encourage and give hope to the younger generation of girls and young women who may be going through an ongoing battle between themselves and their self-worth.

“I never felt enough,” she says of the origins of her battle with her eating disorder that began when she was still in middle school. “I look at Franny and she’s so small and carefree and I want to give her everything I never had, but I know that even that won’t be enough unless she herself realises how worthy she is of all the good and all the love that she deserves.”

We pull up outside the baking studio and she brightens at spotting her husband and twins’ silhouettes behind the frosted glass windows. Nick and Franny almost topple over their stools as they rush to overwhelm their mother while their father scrambles to keep his heart rate down—a close call with their foreheads hitting the edge of the marble benches as they got down will just about do it.

Even with her petite frame, Madison carries the twins like she’s just holding a bag of groceries. Unsurprisingly, both Nick and Franny are as enamoured of their mother as she is of them and are on the verge of complaining when put down just as Kevin, grinning ear to ear, envelops Madison in his huge arms—to be fair, he’s always been quite remarkably chiselled but the Tom Ford sweater and those tailored jeans (chosen by his wife “of course” as Kevin credits) is a different level altogether. He leans down to give her a kiss.

Back in Perthshire a year ago at the Clooney extravaganza, I caught up with the married couple the day after the festivities over a traditional Scottish breakfast as we overlooked the highlands of the Gleneagles.

Perhaps unlike the Clooneys, who were still entertaining their guests from all over world, the Pearsons were much more relaxed within their own family bubble. Having just celebrated Kevin’s twin sister’s wedding three days prior with close family and friends, the pair was grateful to spend some quality time with each other and their twins without the need to be anything but present.

From my perch, Kevin and Madison were the kind of couple that were very much “old souls”. They held an affection for each other that is rooted from sincere fondness and adoration for each other—they converse like deep friends and trade wits like secret lovers. And despite the media attention of the adorable moments shared online (often by the social-savvy actor), Madison is uncompromising when it comes to the privacy of their children.

While the twins dipped in and out of the table pilfering scones or taking over their mother’s green juice, neither one of their parents were the least bit bothered by the constant attention they need to provide such a rumbunctious pair.

“They’re so funny,” Kevin said, a careful eye on little Nick who was staring at the whipped cream on his tiny finger like he was contemplating on wiping it on his dad’s face.

I do recall having a good laugh when I accompanied the family on a tour of a nearby 17th century castle and little Franny, a copy-and-paste of her mother, pointed at a wood-cut table decoration of what looked to be intertwined lovers and confidently yelled, “That’s mommy and daddy!”

The fierce mama bear of the Pearson household of four (Madison sometimes calls her husband “kid number three, but don’t tell him that or he’ll get ideas of trying for another!”), remarks that forging her own path away from her husband’s spotlight had been remarkably easy, and she gives much of the credit to the rest of the Pearson clan who all treasure family more than anything.

Even with the notoriety of her brother-in-law, rising political star Randall Pearson, who currently serves in the Philadelphia municipality and is on track for a career in congress, Madison says that quality time to rest and recuperate is a must.

“[My sisters-in-law] and I have a girls weekend every other month when we can where we literally book ourselves a gorgeous Airbnb and just glamp down. I’m talking sleep-ins, endless mimosas, spa sessions… you name it! It’s the kind of getaway that [our husbands] get really jealous for.”

And upon being reminded, Kevin, now sporting Franny’s tiny chef’s hat, shakes his head at his wife conspicuously as if in reprimand that he most definitely should be included in the gals’ next glamping session despite him being, well, not a gal.

While Nick proudly counts five of about a thousand sprinkles that are scattered on his side of the bench, Madison congratulates him with a warmth and pride that is infectious enough to make you think that she’s proud of you too. And despite her husband’s very obvious possessiveness over her—you could count only one occasion where the actor is not at arm’s length from her—when Madison focuses her attention on you, it’s not difficult to believe that this powerhouse woman could truly do absolutely anything.

“She is that and more,” Kevin says about his wife. “Sometimes I can’t believe that this is my life. Our life! Like, she’s mywife, and these two are our kids. It’s just wild! I’m grateful, just grateful.”

Despite the doubts and fear that had been Madison’s constant companions for most of her life and especially going into adulthood, there is a fierce resilience in her that she could only credit her dear grandmother Frances—her own daughter having been named after her.

“She always believed in me,” she recalls, an eye on the twins squatting by the oven watching their creations rise. Despite the deep grief and loss that are quite intimately shared by the married couple, Madison says that it has only made them more resolute in loving their children and each other as best as they possible can every day.

“You just don’t know when it’s your time,” she says. “So, Kev and I make sure that there are no ‘next times’ when it comes to our family.”

When I had asked Madison about Big Three Homes back in Scotland, she squealed at the origin story of its founding, which started with Kevin’s late father Jack Pearson having asked his wife Rebecca to start the business together as partners.

Although Jack’s tragic and unexpected passing put an indefinite hold to this dream, its fulfilment through his son Kevin and through Madison is a testament to the kind of legacy that Jack Pearson had begun through his kids.

“I mean, it started off as more of a passion project for Kev,” Madison says. “But we knew it was always going to be something really special. Especially because his first project was the house that Jack had wanted to build for his mom. And when Kevin had this wonderful idea of bringing the family together to start the business and he asked me to be a part of it, how could I have said no!”

Kevin makes a point to say though that even if the idea of Big Three Homes originally came from his parents, its fulfilment is as much a part of his and Madison’s own story as it is his parents’. And choosing to have Madison work alongside him wasn’t just the best choice (given how much of a boss she is), but it was the only choice he ever wanted or considered.

“I know this is cliché, but I can’t stand not being with her,” Kevin says. “I made a point of this when our twins were born, and I meant it!”

Madison and the family split their time between California and Pennsylvania both for Kevin’s work and for the business, but nowadays, it’s more of an 80-20 split in favour of the east coast.

When asked about a career path carved away from her hometown in California, Madison says fondly, “It surprises a lot of people when I say this but I’m actually an east coast girl.”

This fun fact translates quite well in Madison’s day to day. She could turn any conversation into an erudite discussion, and she will utterly beguile you with her knowledge of books and literature—her constant companions when she can sneak away to her own personal Taj Mahal, a stunning Japanese garden in the backyard of their Pennsylvania home which Kevin built especially for her.

As the Pearsons continue to make a splash in the world of construction, politics, arts and entertainment—a rare mix indeed for a family in the spotlight—Madison is determined to continue writing a story with her husband and her children that she never had growing up.

With the twins happily destroying their creations by the mouthfuls, Madison promises that another visit is a must and perhaps this time, she can show us a collection of Kevin’s baby photos coupled with her own personal commentary to boot.

And who would say no to that.

#kevison #kadison #kevin and madison #still not over that kadison tag but loving it coz yes to more madison yeeeeee #I tried to not let Kevin get away with being gushy but he keeps taking over!!#lezbereal he's in too deep we get it boyy #I need to do a combined one because Uncle Nicky and some of the fam has to feature am I roighttttt #anywhoo hope y'all enjoy this <3 #this is us #tiu #kevison fanfics #kevison fanfic #tiu spoilers #I know most of the deets won't be canon after season 6 but whatever I do what I want #kevin pearson #madison this is us #madison pearson

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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 4 years

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Imagine being Lin Beifong's only daughter and developing a crush on your fellow officer Mako. You finally managed to get the firebender alone but your family keeps accidentally ruining your efforts making for a very awkward night.

Being a part of Republic City’s elite defence you’d seen the avatar and her friends often and sure you’d noticed the handsome firebender she’d dated but that wasn’t all you’d seen. You’d seen the way Mako had treated Korra and Asami and it angered you but it wasn’t your place to judge. So you treated him as you did every citizen, formally and with respect, the few times you had to interact with him and it was all fine. Until Mako asked your mom for a job. When Mako joined the force you were determined he wouldn’t be able to use his good looks and celebrity reputation on the force and were extra hard on him to compensate any favouritism he might recieve. You gave him the hardest assessments, most boring shifts and worst cases and yet he beat all of your obstacles. It annoyed you at first until you realised you weren’t really annoyed. You were mad at him, for being such a redeemable guy when his previous actions didn’t indicate that. Sure he’d apologised and Asami and Korra had forgiven him but still that didn’t mean you had to trust him...but it didn’t stop you liking him. You struggled with your growing respect for the man and even more so with your admiration of him. On stake outs he genuinely seemed smart and sweet. You tried not to develop an interest in him but you couldn’t help it. Mako seemed to take an interest in you too and soon you were working cases together by choice. You were efficient and had similar thought processes so were a match made in heaven (detective wise atleast). You were working on the new airbender case together when your mom told you she wanted you both to accompany the avatar on her search for airbenders and protect her together. You nodded your head professional and composed when on the inside you felt all warm and excited. The time spent travelling with Mako and his friends was the best tine of your life. The avatar and her friends were so nice and you’d quickly bonded with them all, especially Asami and Korra, which shocked you as you didn’t usually get on well with other people. Becoming friends with two intelligent women had it’s set backs and it didn’t take long for them to notice your interest in Mako. You thought they might be judgemental but they were so sweet and sometimes annoyingly infavour of your crush sending you smirks and grins anytime you and Mako interacted. Korra and Asami made it their mission to get you and Mako together before you returned to Republic City and you were on board, when it came to dating you needed all the help you could get...

Asami came up with the idea of you getting some alone time with Mako by organising a movie night. Bolin was always begging Mako to watch his movers and he hadn’t gotten around to it. So Asami bought them for you and told you to ask Mako to watch it with you. Her and Korra (mostly Asami) coached you on flirting and what to say until you felt ready. Judgement day here and Asami hiding behind a wall after shoving you towards Mako you approached him nervously. “Hi Mako” you called and he smiled “hey y/n, what are you doing out here? I thought you were guarding Korra”. “No my mom’s got that covered” you explained and Mako nodded “ow good”. Silence fell and you resisted the urge to run away and carried on. "So" you said getting the speech you’d prepared ready "i recently bought Bolin’s mover to see what it’s like and i wondered if you wanted to watch it too, with me...". Mako looked at you and you felt your cheeks redden "don’t worry if not i just thought it’d get him off your back if you’d actually..you know seen it". "No that actually sounds like a really good idea" Mako smiled "thanks y/n". You blushed but nodded "no problem...so when do you wanna watch it?". "How about tonight?" Mako asked and you panicked. Tonight? That was so soon! You weren’t ready! Asami had only coached you up until this point not the actual date! "Or not..." Mako said seeing your reaction and you shook your head feeling brave suddenly "no tonight’s fine i’ll just have to move some things around and tidy my room cus it’s a bit of a mess". "Well we can do it in my room?" Mako asked "Bolin’s got a date with Opal so we'll have it all to ourselves" he smirked slightly and you felt your stomach dip. "Yeah that sounds great thanks" you blushed and Mako smiled again "great so i'll see you tonight". "You will see me there" you agreed and then cringed inwardly. How were you literally more cool in a chase or fight than chatting to a cute boy? Mako just chuckled slightly when he looked behind you and straightened "chief" he said and you jumped to see your mom right behind you. Your mom had turned up at Zaofu claiming to help but you thought she was probably just checking up on you and Mako. Needless to say your mom’s presence had not helped the situation with Mako. Reminding Mako not only was your grandmother the greatest earth bender who ever lived but your mom was his boss who could and would fire him for any mistake...such as dating her daughter for instance was not great romantically. "Mom...i mean chief" you saluted her and she looked at you confused. "Erm yeah hi y/n". "We were discussing official police buisness, can we help you with anything?" you said awkwardly and your mom narrowed her eyes "no i only needed Mako so you could go sleep or eat or whatever just fix what’s causing this" she said gesturing to your weird behaviour. You laughed awkwardly and hurried away to Asami who looked as mortified as you.

Asami and Korra told you sooner was better and so you tried to absorb all their tips on dates as they helped you dress and gave you a confidence boost. They left you with smirks and giggles outside Mako’s door and you sighed before knocking. Mako opened the door and you got the familiar warm feeling whenever you saw him. “Hey right on time” he smirked “come in!”. You walked inside cautiously and looked around. There were two beds, one very neat and one with lots of clothes and stuff piled on it. “Sorry that’s Bolin’s side of the room” Mako said following your eye “he’s not very...neat”. “It’s okay” you smiled and Mako nodded “so let’s get started”. He set the projector up against the wall and turned the lights off as you tried to act natural sat on his bed. Mako sat next to you and played the movie. “You know you don’t have to sit on the edge” Mako commented seeing you perched on the edge of the bed and you blushed “ow okay” and moved closer. You and Mako sat beside one another and it felt awkward at first but soon it felt more normal and you found yourself laughing and enjoying the movie, sharing popcorn with Mako, when the door went.

You and Mako both looked at one another. "Are you expecting someone?" you asked and Mako shook his head "Bolin said he wouldn’t be back for hours" Mako said getting up to go open it when the door burst open. "So you are watching Nuktuk!" your cousin Wei cried "why didn’t you invite us?". Your counsins Wei, Wing and Huan all stared at you from the door and you looked to Mako awkwardly. You both just stammered you didn’t think to and they walked further into the room. "Of course we’d want to watch it cous!" Wing laughed elbowing you. Wing and Wei sat on either side of you and Mako forcing you to move closer so they could fit. Huan followed but frowned "was it just you two in here? Alone?". You blushed not looking at Mako but nodded. "That’s not awkward' Huan sighed sitting down too and you were grateful Mako hastily played the movie. Watching a movie with your crush which was then crashed by your extended family was very awkward. You and Mako were sat so close he couldn’t move his arm without knocking you. Not to mention Wei and Wing kept leaning over to grab the popcorn pushing you into Mako or Mako into you. Huan critiqued the film so much you didn’t even hear most of it. You were completely lost in what was going on when suddenly it ended and you frowned. "Is anyone else lost?" Mako asked and Huan shook his head "it was a pretty basic film plot". "Well if i’d actually been able to hear it' Mako said under his breath and you smirked. Huan didn’t hear him as he’d gone back to arguing with Wei and Wing. 'Well the movers over we should go" Wei said jumping up and Wing and Huan nodded following him to the door. You sighed in relief thinking you’d be able to salvage something from this night when they all looked at you expectantly. "Y/n aren’t you coming?" Wei asked "it’s late" and Huan raised an eyebrow. "No of course I am" you nodded standing up too "goodnight Mako" you said formally and turned to follow your cousins who were practically escorting you back to your room. As soon as you were shut up in your room you slumped against the door and laughed. This was not how you wanted this night to go. You’d been so nervous about spending time alone with Mako when you hadn’t even managed to spend any time alone with him. This was your one excuse to get Mako alone and now it was ruined and there was no way Mako would ask you back for a second date. You jumped as there was a knock on your door and you snapped it open to see Mako stood there. "Mako" you blushed "what are you...". "You left your mover" Mako said holding out the tape to you. You nodded "ow sorry" and took it. "It’s fine" mako smiled "also i was wondering if you wanted to watch it again some time seeing as we both didn’t hear much". You smirked but nodded in disbelief "that’d be good". Mako smiled "good...y/n can i ask you something? I don’t want to read too much into this, especially because i really enjoy working with you and would hate to ruin our profesional relationship but y/n was this a date?". You froze and bit your lip "possibly i mean...it was just casual, it doesn’t have to be if you didn’t want it to be" you frowned but Mako shook his head "no i did want it to be...if you did". You blushed "you do?". Mako nodded "I’ve always respected you as a fellow officer but this trip seeing you away from republic city and actually acting like a normal teenager for once” he smirked at your frown ”well I started crushing on you but i didn’t want to read into something too much but if you want this to be a date then...". "Yes" you said cutting him off and then blushed how eager that sounded. "Good" Mako chuckled "i’m sorry our first date was so awkward i’ll make sure nobody bothers us on our second one" Mako grinned. You smirked "that sounds nice but tonight wasn’t all bad". Mako shrugged "true but I know something that will make it better". You looked at him confused when he kissed you swiftly. The guy was smooth which didn’t suprise you. What did suprise you was how confidently you kissed him back, how you didn’t feel nervous or vulnerable kissing him but confident and excited. Mako seemed suprised too but kissed you back undeterred. You seperated but Mako didn’t move away from you "now that was worth being sandwiched between your cousins". You chuckled and smirked up at him when someone came around the corner. Your mom looked from Mako’s arms around you to, to the way Mako was looking at you, to your close proximity to one another and sighed. You and Mako held your breath waiting for death threats, to be fired, a lecture or all three but none of that happened. "So this is why you were acting so weird" you mom said undetered "atleast he’s a good guy but really y/n a cop?". You went to argue but she smirked making you realise she was joking. "Just don’t let it effect your work okay?". You and Mako nodded stunned as you mom turned away. "Ow and Mako? You hurt my daughter I’ll break your face" Lin called "got it?". You cringed as Mako winced "got it" he called back awkwardly. "Still want that second date?" You asked only half joking but Mako grinned as soon as he looked at you "totally your mom can’t scare me away that easily". You blushed and mako smiled "it’s cute when you do that". You blushed even more and Mako grinned "so i’ll see you tomorrow night for the do over?". "Sounds good" you nodded and Mako smirked "it’s a date" and winked turning away down the coridoor. You blushed and felt the excitement in your stomach, your lips still tingling from the kiss. Tomorrow night couldn’t come quickly enough.

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marilynlamantia · 3 years

Text

How to Lose Stomach Fat Without Exercise or Dieting

Losing weight is an extremely popular fitness goal: over half of Americans list it as important to them. Many people consider their stomachs to be especially troublesome, and research shows that visceral fat (around the internal organs) is the most dangerous to your health. While you will not achieve major weight loss without diet and exercise, there are a few things you can do to slim your stomach line without heading to the gym or starving yourself.

Method 1

Mimicking Weight Loss Temporarily

Step 1

Try tummy-control garments. There have never been more options in the undergarment industry for clothing that tighten, firm, and shapes the midsection. Made mainstream by Spanx, tummy-control garments are available in many types for people of most sizes.

Women's undergarments include tummy-control pantyhose, panties, high-waisted shorts, bodysuits, camisoles, and tank tops made of Lycra, elastic, or some combination. Most mainstream undergarment brands for women carry control top styles, but the most popular include Spanx, Soma, and TC Shaping. Buy your normal size and expect it to run small.

There are many options for men, including Spanx or Sculptees brand tank tops for men that target the abdominals. These are essentially compression shirts that whittle the appearance of the midsection. While results will vary, these companies claim their products can reduce the midsection by 3 – 5 inches (7.6 – 12.7 cm).

Step 2

Take advantage of current trends in corseting and waist training. This method involves wearing a binding garment across the abdomen. If done in moderation, corseting can create a thinner silhouette without any other lifestyle changes.

Some celebrities swear by corseting as a weight loss mechanism, and although doctors say it won't actually help you lose fat cells, it can help you lose weight by cinching in your stomach as you eat so that you don't have as much room to overeat. In addition, the fat cell can expand or shrink, according to how much fat it is storing.

Be careful about wearing these too tight or too frequently. Because they can reduce your stomach capacity, you might vomit after eating even a normal-sized meal. They can also contribute to heartburn and compress your organs.

Purchase your corset at a store with a knowledgeable sales staff, who can help you fit it correctly and learn to lace it appropriately so that it is not too tight.

Step 3

Consider a body wrap. Body wraps are spa treatments that claim to detoxify and slim the midsection. With training, these can also be done at home. While the process can vary, most involve several steps and the application of several types of body products.

The aesthetician will start by massaging and applying a body scrub to your midsection, which will then be rinsed in a shower. The body scrub will contain a variety of herbs and minerals thought to cleanse the skin of impurities and reduce the appearance of fat or cellulite.

The body will then be rubbed with a lotion or oil containing other emollients and properties.

Next, the midsection will be securely wrapped in linen, plastic, or thermal sheets, and then an electric heated blanket will be used to warm the body for about 30 minutes, which will cause sweating. This step, in particular, is thought to remove impurities and reduce the appearance of fat.

After removing the blanket and wraps, the midsection will be massaged again to increase blood flow.

While this process is not supported for weight loss, many clients feel that it reduces the appearance of stomach fat and cellulite, especially with repeated treatments. Due to the sweating process (and loss of water weight), it is not uncommon for clients to experience a loss of a couple of inches, although this will be temporary.

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Step 4

Reduce your water weight. The body can retain water for various reasons, giving a bloated appearance, particularly around the waist. Reducing water weight will temporarily slim the waistline.

Hydrate. In many cases, water retention is the body's effort to prevent dehydration when you are not taking in enough water per day. This is especially true in hotter months. Be sure you are drinking at least eight 8-oz glasses of hydrating fluids a day (or 2 liters), which will help flush out your system and reduce bloating and puffiness.

Reduce your sodium intake. Excess salt causes the body to retain water. Processed foods and restaurant foods are the major sources of sodium for the average American. These foods account for about 75% of the sodium in the diet. You should consume no more than 1,500 mg of sodium per day, which is a little over 1/2 teaspoon of salt.

Reduce your alcohol and coffee consumption. These drinks are known to cause dehydration, which can cause water retention in the body (as the body struggles to hold onto whatever water it can).

Method 2

Changing Your Lifestyle

Step 5

Avoid swallowing air. This might seem like a strange suggestion, but swallowed air is one of the biggest causes of bloating, which contributes to a rounder midsection. Simply reducing the amount of air you swallow throughout the day can trim down your tummy measurements.

Avoid carbonated beverages, even those with zero calories like carbonated water. Beverages with air in them fill your abdomen with air, which causes a bloated appearance.

Avoid smoking. Smokers who inhale smoke also tend to swallow it, which bloats their stomachs.

Avoid chewing gum and talking while eating. Both of these habits lead to swallowed air.

Step 6

Practice good posture. Changing the way you carry yourself and sit won't make stomach fat disappear, but it will make you look slimmer by helping your body fat distribute properly across the torso rather than gathering at the midsection. Try to keep your upper body straight, your shoulders pulled back, and your head high.

When you sit, your buttocks should touch the back of your chair, and all three normal back curves should be present in your back (meaning a small towel or washcloth rolled up should fit above your buttocks)

When you stand, keep your shoulders back, pull in your stomach, and keep your feet about a hip-width apart.

If you're willing to do a little exercise, movements that strengthen your core and back can make it easier to maintain your posture while tightening up the muscles around your midsection. Try adding a few light crunches and easy back exercises to your schedule as you improve your posture.

Step 7

Get enough sleep. Sleeping doesn't burn fat on its own, but it is a crucial part of weight loss efforts. This is mainly because sleep deprivation (not getting enough sleep) makes most aspects of weight loss more difficult. When you aren't well-rested, it's hard to motivate yourself to get up and move. It's also hard to control cravings: you're more likely to act on impulses to eat junk food when you're already drained of energy

While everyone's sleep needs are different, the majority of adults need about seven to nine hours per night. Children and elderly people tend to need more.

Step 8

Find a fitness-positive support network. Surrounding yourself with people who are committed to healthy living can help you live healthier. Hanging out with health-conscious people gives you more opportunities to participate in activities that lead to weight loss. Make an effort to spend time with people who enjoy hobbies that promote healthy living, like walking, sports, cycling, nutritious home cooking, and so on. Limit your time with people who have unhealthy hobbies like eating junk food, binge drinking, and watching hour after hour of television.

If you don't have anyone in your family or circle of friends who is interested in health-conscious activities, don't be afraid to make new contacts. Join an intramural sports team or start participating in pickup games at your local park. Take a healthy cooking course or join a spin class at your local community center. There are many healthy ways to meet people — it's up to you!

Step 9

Start tracking your weight. Some nutrition experts suggest that having an accurate idea of your own weight can promote healthy living.[14] Keeping track of your weight forces you to think healthy — if the numbers on the scale start to go up, you'll know that it's time to reconsider your habits.

A person's weight can fluctuate by as much as 10 pounds from day to day. To get an accurate average, measure yourself at the same time every day (like right after you get up). At the end of the week, add up your measurements and divide by seven. The number you get will be close to your "true" average weight.

Why is it important to have good sitting posture when you're trying to minimize stomach fat?

Method 3

Changing Your Eating Habits

Step 10

Drink plenty of water. If you drink soda, sports drinks, flavored coffees with sugar and cream, or other high-calorie beverages throughout the day, try replacing them with water. You'll get the same level of hydration and fullness while cutting down on your calories. Keep it up and you can achieve mild weight loss without any extra effort.

The health benefits of water are well-documented. Drinking water energizes muscles, keeps skin looking healthy and clear, and provides a boost of energy. Best of all, it's zero-calorie, so you can drink as much as you want. See our tips on working water into your daily schedule for more great ideas.

Don't be fooled into swapping soda for fruit juice, which is full of calories. The process of juicing removes all the healthy fiber from fruit and leaves nothing but sugar behind. Stick with water or zero-calorie flavored waters for the most tummy-friendly hydration.

Step 11

Eat smaller meals more frequently. Instead of three large meals a day, try eating several smaller meals of a few hundred calories. This can reset your hunger cues so that you will know when you are actually hungry versus eating out of habit.

One convenient way to reduce your portion sizes is simply to use a smaller plate. Smaller plates can make the same amount of food appear larger due to something called the Delboeuf illusion.[18] You're essentially "tricking" your brain into being satisfied with less food.

Step 12

Measure out each serving of food. Don't trust your eyes to tell you how much to eat — instead, use your brain. With recent trends in commercial cuisine tending towards large portions, many people now have a distorted idea of what a normal portion of food looks like. Use measuring cups and the information on the "Nutrition Facts" section of your food's packaging to ensure you eat one serving at a time. You may even want to invest in a simple food scale.

Many common foods have serving sizes that are easy to visually memorize. A few common examples are below (you can view more here):

Vegetables and fruit: about the size of your fist

Meat, fish, or poultry: about the size of your palm (minus the fingers)

Cheese or fatty spreads: about the size of your thumb

Carbohydrates (rice, pasta, etc.): about the size of a cupcake wrapper

Step 13

Eat breakfast. Many Americans skip breakfast and then overcompensate for their resulting hunger by overeating at lunch and dinner.

Ensure that your breakfast contains at least one item from three food groups: dairy, fruit, and grains.

If you are on a high-protein, low-carbohydrate diet, you could have eggs and cheese. The important thing is that food intake in the morning actually gets your metabolism going, and you do not remain in the fasting state

A healthy breakfast for a 150-pound adult is about 300 – 400 calories.

Step 14

Make smart food choices. A healthy diet is more friendly to the waistline than a non-healthy one, even if the calorie content is the same. It's both possible and essential to still eat healthy when you're not dieting.

Eat fresh fruits and vegetables instead of processed snacks. Processed foods have added preservatives, artificial ingredients, and are often full of carbohydrates, sugar, and fat. Fresh foods give you more nutrition per calorie than processed, carbohydrate-heavy snack foods like chips or crackers. Processed foods also tend to contain more salt, which retains fluid and can lead to excess weight stored around the midsection.

Never snack directly out of the bag or carton. One study found that people given a large bucket of popcorn ate 44% more popcorn than those given smaller buckets. It's much easier to overeat when a large portion of food is in front of you. Instead, pour one serving of the snack into a bowl, then put the package away.

Step 15

Keep your portions under control when you eat away from home. Controlling portions at home when you sit down for a meal is often easier than at a restaurant, where portions sizes for one meal often contain the recommended calories for one person for an entire day, or at a friend's house, where you cannot control what goes into the meal. Luckily, there are a few things you can do to control your portion size in places where you don't have perfect control over your food:

Plan what you will order ahead of time. Many restaurants have websites with complete nutritional information for their menus, so you can make a smart choice before you even leave your house.

When you're at a restaurant, ask the waiter to bring a takeout container at the same time as your food. Measure out one portion, then put the rest in the container right away. You'll be less tempted to mindlessly continue eating as you talk with your companions.

When dining at another person's house, don't be afraid to ask for a small portion. This way you can clean your plate, instead of leaving a portion of food behind and potentially offending your host.

When shopping, pick individually-sized foods, rather than foods that come in large containers. For instance, instead of buying a carton of ice cream, pick up a package of popsicles or ice cream sandwiches.

Step 16

Switch to foods that leave you feeling fuller longer. When it comes to reducing your tummy line, it's not all about how much you eat, but also what you eat that counts. Certain foods give short "bursts" of energy and satisfaction, but leave you hungry before your next meal. Instead of these foods, focus on alternatives that offer long-term satisfaction.

Filling foods that offer longer periods of satisfaction include whole-grain bread, rice, and pasta, oats, nuts, water, lean meats and fish, eggs, green vegetables, beans, and legumes.

Non-filling foods include sodas, processed snack foods, "white" bread, rice, and pasta, candy, and starches.

Step 17

Eat slowly. When you eat quickly, you can swallow a surprising amount of food before you start to feel full and satisfied. On the other hand, eating slowly gives you plenty of time to feel full and stop eating before you've consumed more calories than you need. There is even evidence that this can promote the release of specific hormones that are responsible for the feeling of fullness in the brain.

Take time to eat your food. Concentrate on chewing each bite 10 – 20 times and take sips of water between each bite. Set the fork or spoon down between each bite. If you can, eat with someone else so you can pause to chat during your meal.

Try setting a timer for 20 – 30 minutes at the start of your meal. Pace yourself so that you don't take the last bite until the timer goes off.

When you finish your food, take a break from eating, even if you still feel a little hungry. Give your body a chance to register as having a full stomach, which can sometimes take a while. Only help yourself to seconds if you still feel hungry after another half an hour.

Step 18

Eat-in peaceful, quiet locations. Research suggests that eating in relaxing environments leads people to eat less overall. On the other hand, eating in loud, busy, chaotic environments can lead to over-eating. While the root cause isn't certain, this may be because these sorts of situations distract from feelings of fullness by creating mild anxiety.

One common cause for rushed, panicked eating is being late to school or work. Fixing this is a matter of adjusting your schedule. Consider getting up earlier so you have a chance to enjoy a relaxed breakfast before you leave.

Step 19

Record your meals. Merely keeping track of what you eat can be an enlightening experience. You may be surprised to learn that you normally eat more than you think you do. Try writing your meals and snacks in a notebook you carry with you every day. Be sure to note the number of servings you eat for each as well as the calorie content per serving.

There are also a variety of free websites and apps that make it convenient to keep track of your daily food choices.

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luluxa · 4 years

Photo

Drifter

Something I wanted to do for ages - an illustration to one of my original worlds. And I’m using James as a character because of reasons :D

Edit: the reasons :)

An intro for an AU fic set in one of my original worlds. Written a while ago and by now I honestly don't know when (if) I'm gonna finish it, and as a standalone bit it doesn't make much sense, but I guess it can provide some context for the art.

Guide You

Summary: Jeremy and Richard are set to have an adventure in the lands they know very little about, and of course, for that they will need a guide.

So it would appear they were going in the entirely wrong direction.

Hammond glares at Jeremy, weariness and anger on his little mug underlined poignantly by a ratty beard.

“You are a bellend, Clarkson,” he says very politely due to their new company, a nice change to all the abuse that was hurled at Jeremy for the last three days.

Their – well, Jeremy doesn’t want to say ‘saviour’, since they weren’t dying or anything – their finder inclines his head at Hammond’s expressiveness. An inclined hand is all the emotion that can be read off him, since he doesn’t remove his scarf or goggles, remaining mysteriously faceless and nameless.

“You could turn around and go in whichever direction you wished,” Jeremy retorts testily. He really doesn’t fancy appearing incompetent and pathetic in front of strangers.

“And then explain to your wife and children I just left you in the desert for the wild goats to feast on your flesh?”

Jeremy huffs, gesturing at his face. “Of course, the wild goats wouldn’t do you any harm since you look so much like one they’d accept you in their ranks immediately.”

Hammons scratches at his beard. “I look like Rob Dawny Jr and you know it. Don’t be jealous of my good looks.”

Jeremy lets out a massively sarcastic snort and the mystery man sighs and switches off the engine of his Falcon.

“Would you prefer to continue with this admittedly entertaining comedy double act or shall we make a camp?”

Jeremy and Hammond both grin at the comment and agree that the camp would be great.

“I’m Ainnay,” the man introduces himself at last, as they all dismount. “You, I gather, are from Ktider.”

“We are,” Jeremy nods, “I’m Clarkson, the midget is Hammond, and we were supposed to make a documentary about the desert but he’d challenged me to a race and then we got into the sandstorm and lost all our bearings.”

“You lost our bearings!” Hammond starts again, jabbing a finger at him. “I told you were going the wrong way!”

“Oh sure, because the direction you had proposed wouldn’t have lead us to the mountains a thousand miles from where we’ve started!”

“Yeah, where there’s at least some civilisation and not endless dunes with just an occasional goat skeleton stuck in a dried bush!”

“Gentlemen, please,” Ainnay interrupts them suddenly, holding his palms up. “It’s very easy to get lost in the desert, especially for someone who’s never been here before. Experienced Freemen sometimes get lost in sandstorms. I wouldn’t fight about it on your place. Of course, going for a race in the desert is another matter entirely,” he adds smoothly.

Jeremy gapes at him for a second, exchanges a glace with Hammond, and they both smirk.

“The race was definitely not my fault,” Jeremy says easily.

“You agreed to that!”

“And you agreed to follow me around! Five years ago, in fact!”

At last, Hammond gives up. “Yeah, all right, that was my biggest mistake and I have no choice but to concede it,” he says with as much sarcasm as he can muster.

While they were arguing, Ainnay managed to start a fire and somehow task semi-distracted Hammond with erecting a canopy, so Jeremy can celebrate his victory by sitting down and taking off his incredibly annoying itchy scarf.

“Ohh, I swear, it only cumulates the sand in your hair and does nothing to protect you from it!” he groans, scratching at his head vigorously, while Hammond nods along. “This is rubbish!”

Having brought all his pots and little bags under the canopy, Ainnay sits down as well. “It’s cos you’d put it on all wrong,” he comments. “I’ll show you later how it’s done, but one of the main things is that you put your goggles on it, not under it.”

Jeremy shrugs sheepishly and then has to spend a while ignoring Hammond’s speculations about the comfort of goggles-wearing, because Ainnay takes all his head-gear off as well and appears to be immensely pleasurable to look at.

Swallowing and averting his eyes with an effort from the sinfully pretty bow of pink lips, Jeremy hopes his blush will be mistaken for a heat rash. Will he ever be past this stupid and perverse notion of finding men attractive?

“Are you a Nahan, then?” he hears Hammond ask cautiously and looks up to see a red vertical stripe on Ainnay’s forehead, revealed now when he’s flicked the curls away from his face.

“I am. Couldn’t you tell that by me name?” he asks, looking confused, his accent very slight but audible now when Jeremy thinks about it.

Jeremy glances at Hammond, both of them shrugging.

“Not really. Should we?” Jeremy scowls. “Are we being massively ignorant and rude somehow, by any chance? In which case, please excuse us, we’ve literally came over here a week ago and know close to nothing about the local customs.”

Ainnay smiles, eyes squinted and sparkly, making Jeremy’s insides quiver. “No, not so far, although I can tell already you have a potential.”

Jeremy finds it in himself to snort and Hammond grins ruefully – well, he could get away with a lot, being stupidly charming when he wants to, but Jeremy has nothing to counterbalance his bellendism. He rather hopes he won’t offend Ainnay terribly at some point, as he does, indeed, has a lot of potential – and experience – in this area.

“Nahan people have pretty distinct names,” Ainnay explains calmly, making tea. “A Nahan man will always give you just one, it’s our ‘Amma namet’, a tribe’s name, given to us by someone from the tribe we live in. Those names are Ruisk in origin and usually descriptive – mine, for example, is two words: Ain – soft and Nay – hard.” Ainnay glances up from the tea, looking very soft and lovely indeed, and although Jeremy has known him for twenty minutes, he can tell the ‘hard’ part is there as well.

He nods. “Got it. Why is it always just one name?”

Ainnay offers them cups with tea and switches to making some sort of heavily spiced sandwiches that Hammond eyes with deep distrust.

“Do you believe in any sort of higher power – gods, fate, anything at all?”

Jeremy scowls at the sudden subject swerve. “No,” he says categorically, and Hammond shrugs with indifference. The little fussy moron sips the tea and tries very hard to not make a face – Jeremy thinks the tea is perfectly fine, but then again, Hammond is known to make faces at water. “I mean, we have organised religion in Ktider but it’s no more than a collection of fairy tales and a list of ridiculously strict rules and improbable threats of post-mortem punishment to make an illiterate peasant behave.”

Ainnay frowns fleetingly at that. “How odd. Well, here people do believe in higher powers, although no one’s imposing it on them. I would guess it’s because living somewhere as unpredictable and dangerous as a desert makes you invoke anything at all to ease your struggle with the world around.”

Jeremy contemplates it and nods. “Maybe. The seamen are like that as well – every sea-going man I’ve ever known was superstitious as hell, regarding the seas to be well, almost a deity of its own.”

Ainnay nods. “Yes, so is the desert – you know these lands as Tensah, I think, but it’s really the name of the goddess that is supposedly looking over us.”

Jeremy notes that Ainnay doesn’t seem to be very religious himself, wondering, why doesn’t he conform to the beliefs of his people.

“So what does it have to do with names?” Hammond asks, ever impatient and probably annoyed with the non-promising dinner.

Ainnay doesn’t look bothered with the rudeness, remaining serenely calm and immersed in the food making. “Our tribe names are designed to hide us from the goddess who’s known to not like men very much. Women go by the first name always, as they’ve nothing to fear.”

Men fearing a goddess sounds pretty entertaining – Jeremy’s heard about ancient people worshipping Earth like the ultimate Mother, and it was proposed by some historians in those ancient times women were the rulers – he wonders, whether it was or hell, still is, true for the local desert people.

“I think we have something similar to your Amma namet thing – nicknames,” Jeremy says on an afterthought. “His is Hamster,” he points at Hammond, making the latter glare.

Ainnay hums. “Yeah, we have nicknames too, but it’s not the same thing. Amma namet is absolutely formal and ritualistic rather than amusing and affectionate. It’s for permanent use, since our first name has to be hidden. The first name can only be used one on one, and only your mother can use it, or a person to whom you give that name – usually a life partner. So, if a Nahan man ever gave you his first name he would be actually saying ‘I love you and I want to spend my life with you’.”

“I hope to never hear that one,” Hammond says immediately, and Jeremy immediately and ridiculously wonders what is Ainnay’s first name.

Bad thought, he tells himself angrily. Incredibly bad and out of order.

They receive their plates with the sandwiches and Jeremy makes a point to declare it very tasty – which it is – to counterbalance Hammond’s politely concealed but still evident disgust.

“Don’t mind him. Hammond hates everything that isn’t eggs and gin,” Jeremy explains, talking away his portion to not waste anything.

Hammond lets him with relief. “I don’t hate everything. I’m just not used to foreign food, sorry. I have some crackers on me, I’ll be fine with those.”

Ainnay shrugs. “All right. What’s gin?”

They spend another hour discussing alcoholic beverages and food, Hammond increasingly horrified with Ainnay’s descriptions of the local drinks that seem to include snake bile and scorpions, until Jeremy realises that while remaining perfectly deadpan, Ainnay is having a lot of fun making Hammond queasy, and sits back to be entertained.

“There’s no such thing as rotten shark soup!” Hammond cries eventually, riled up and red in the face. “You’re having me on!”

Ainnay looks at him with clear-eyed sincerity. “Why would I be having you on? It’s a delicacy, I’ve had some, they serve it with fried whale intestines – it’s actually delicious, as long as you don’t breath in.”

On that, Jeremy gives up, giggling and pointing helplessly at Hammond’s constipated mug. “Your stupid tiny face, all scandalised,” he manages at last. “Ainnay, you’ve got to stop or Hammond will be sick.”

Looking pleased with himself, Ainnay nods. “As you wish. Although everything I said was the truth.”

“You’re worse than Clarkson,” Hammond says, looking hurt. “I hoped to meet someone nice on this journey.”

Ainnay’s expression remains as kindly and innocent as it was. “Tough luck.”

Jeremy dissolves in giggles again, delighted beyond words, and Hammond turns away pointedly, sulking.

“And here I thought we’ll be stuck with just the scenes of the dunes and Hammond moaning,” Jeremy says, pleased, patting his absorber under the coat. He’ll have to sort the stream soon, to not spend hours and days editing the raw material. “That would’ve made a boring show.”

Noticing Ainnay’s confusion, Jeremy produces the absorber disc from under the layers of his dusty robes. “We have them on us 24/7, basically. Bit difficult to make a comprehensive story out of the uninterrupted stream, but we resolved it by embracing a lot of the randomness. People like it, oddly enough.”

Ainnay just looks more confused. “Hold on. I did not understand a word. What is that thing?”

Hammond turns around from his sulking and his crackers to gape at Ainnay along with Jeremy. “You don’t know what it is?”

Ainnay shrugs. “Should I?”

Jeremy looks at his absorber. “Well, yeah, since it came from your part of the world. It’s black niurite, it absorbs the perception of a person connected to it.”

Still blank, Ainnay reaches for the absorber but thinks better of it. “Could you be more specific, please?”

“It absorbs your perception, things you see, or hear, or smell, or what you feel by touch – it stores it as a stream of uh, sensory experience. People then can duplicate it to their absorbers and tune in. It’s a bit like dreaming,” Jeremy tries to explain, “only it’s not your dreaming and everything is real. Well, you could tune into your own stream, which would be like remembering something, but you know, with full presence in the moment. So what Hammond and I are doing here is making a stream – after editing it’ll be his and mine streams in turn combined into one. There should be also a third-person perspective of our discmen, but since we’ve lost them right after coming here, it’ll be just our points of view, so to speak.”

Ainnay listens with his mouth open. “Whoa,” he manages at last. “That’s amazing!”

Bemused, Jeremy exchanges a glance with Hammond again. “Are you saying you have nothing like that in your lands?”

Still transfixed with the absorber, Ainnay shakes his head. “No. We don’t really know what to do with black niurite – your lot likes it enough to buy it, so we sell it to you. We just thought you use it for jewellery or something else decorative. Can you show me how it works?”

Luckily, Hammond has a spare absorber, so he gives it to Ainnay, tying his scarf around his eyes securely and explaining how to connect to it, which takes Ainnay a while but eventually, he lets out a startled yelp and waives his hands about, reacting to something Hammond has on it.

“Bloody Norah!”

Filing away the unfamiliar curse, Jeremy watches Ainnay go from flaily amazement to the stillness of intent concentration – he always loves to watch kids do it, but a grown man discovering streaming is especially endearing.

#james may #james-may #top gear #the grand tour

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