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its-me-im-coraline · 3 years

Text

First impressions // All

words // 1184

warnings // not explicit smut, more like teasing of smut

pairing // none particular, gn!reader

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. this is such bad writing omg. I can not easily navigate a scene between so many people without it looking weird i am so sorry and i do hope you like it. sorry for not posting last night but as i said i was having a panic attack. anyway im better now, hopefully ill be able to post one more fic tonight

request // yeap, here it is

summary // The band might have considered more than once of ‘entertaining’ their best friend. After their I wanna be your slave video comes out, sweet ol’ Thomas can not help but suggest they encounter their reacting to the video clip and showing them some of their moves.

Thomas’ idea did not just come out of the blue. It was not a spontaneous thing to do, but a long time formulated thought coming into reality. In all honesty, Thomas, Victoria, Ethan and Damiano had thought about it before, plenty of times. Having Y/N stay with them any time they were at the studio house was flaring up these thoughts like crazy. It was not just one time that the four of them had talked about railing them senseless initiating something more sexual with them, only the fear that they would be pushed away, keeping them from making a move. But after having seen the anticipation from the promotion for theri video clip of I wanna be your slave, Thomas went out on a limp making a move for them all after the video dropped.

“Hey, Y/N, what are you up to?” There were no regards as to whether it was ok to get in or not. The man just sat on the bed, a phone in his hand with it’s screen lit up already.

“Not much, Thomas. I was just finishing some things up on my laptop. What are you guys doing here, all together?” It was not common for all of them to be in the room at once. Usually they only were all together in the living room or outside, the time in any bedrooms spent with two or three at the time and late at night when they couldn't sleep.

By now the other three occupied the small room, sitting anywhere they could: a chair on the desk, on top of said desk, the bed. “We were thinking, cucciolo.” The one to speak up now was Ethan, sitting on their other side, hand in their hair, messing with it just like he always did.

“Our video clip is out and we wanted to see your reaction.”

“I told you guys I’ll watch it when I’m done with the assignments-”

“Did you not just say you’re done?” Damiano had a sneaky smirk on his face, seeing how flushed he made the band’s friend, getting caught in excuses.

Maybe I just don’t want to see it around you, they thought, avoiding to speak, instead nodding their head.

“Then let’s watch it, puppy.” This time it was Victoria’s chance to speak up, taunting the poor person on the bed. The blonde was on the other side of the room but it did not stop her from making Y/N flush in their seat, only fueling her desire to film the up and coming reactions.

Before the video started everyone shifted. Damiano and Ethan were on the right side of Y/N, Thomas and Victoria occupying the left, all within reach of the poor puppy in the middle. They all knew how quickly they’d react to it all, squirming in their seat at the thought of Vic tasting them like a candied apple. “Do you like it, puppy? Want me to tease you like that?” said girl questioned, never weavering from the filming

It seemed like every little thought was simply worse than the previous, the tip of the iceberg being Victoria tied up, all so wonderfully. Such a sight for sore eyes. At it Y/N let out a strained gasp, unable to hold it in.”What is it, cucciolo, you want to be tied like that? I can do it for you,” whispered Ethan, hands quick to tie up Y/N’s with a shoelace he found a few minutes ago. It was not tight but it was enough to restrain their arms behind them.

“So good you are,” he praised, placing his hand in their hair, giving space for Damiano to put his on their thigh.

The video went on, all these scenes with Damiano screaming at everyone’s face simply heightened the already extreme emotions Y/N was experiencing. The man himself could only laugh at that, face coming close to theirs, just like he did for Thomas on the video clip, so assertive, dominating even.

“Are you enjoying yourself, puppet?” His words pierced through them, shivers overtaking their body, a feeling that could only be described as anxiety but also excitement accompanying it.

It was all a dream, or it felt like it. Such situation was too good to be true for Y/N, causing the fear of this being just a very realistic dream. But, Thomas’ kisses on their neck and Ethan’s light tugs on their hair reminded them of the reality they were living inside of. “Use your words, bambino,” said Damiano, the same smirk as before all over his face.

“Yes, I enjoy this,” they finally whispered, words forced out.

The next few seconds were quiet, only facial expressions portraying any reaction, all four of the band members just looking, admiring their beautiful friend and silently agreeing on their next move. It was when they saw Damiano and Ethan kiss and share that pink bubble gum that the band got entertained. Their lips got parted, cheeks flushed to the point of ‘burning’ to the touch, their eyes got wide, all but drooling over the scene unfolding in front of their eyes.

A shock wave shot through Y/N’s body as Ethan grabbed their head, tilting it back, the video clip still in the background, attacking their lips in a hungry kiss. It was hot, wet and sloppy, and it went on for a bit, until the tall drummer ushered his tongue into the mix, allowing the same type of cherry bubble gum from the video clip to move in Y/N’s mouth at once. They did not know what to do, their mind utterly blank and unable to decide on an action.

“Bite it.” Thomas let the two words out of his mouth, straight into their ear. He looked so shy and innocent most of the time, who would have thought he had it in him. “Now move your head, puppy, just like that,” he all but moaned, pulling them back towards him.

“So good for us all,” Thomas spoke again, now him being the one to kiss Y/N, ridding their mouth of the gum and leaving sloppy kisses from their lips to their neck.

Victoria was fed up with how long the escalation was taking, unable to wait a minute longer before she could have her second of fun. With that thought in mind, she pulled the phone from Y/N’s hands, shutting it off and setting it on the nightstand.

“You already know what happens after, pet.” Her voice was more demanding than anyone could anticipate, very bossy one could say, but Y/N was not going to be the one to challenge it.

“Tell me if you are uncomfortable, baby.” Y/N let out a small ‘do it’, opening up their mouth and just waiting, caressing Victoria’s hands on their face.

“Such a good pet,” she praised, going ahead to spit in their mouth before assessing her ‘art’.

“I think we need another ‘rehearsal’ to get it right,” smirked Damiano, “there’s just a few more creative touches we need to add.”

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @teenyweenynightghost @superchrystaldrug

#maneskin #maneskin imagine #maneskin fanfiction #måneskin #måneskin headcanon #måneskin smut #måneskin x reader #måneskin imagine #måneskin fanfic

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primergon · 3 years

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Hey there!! It’s the anon that you matched up with Velocity in one of your latest posts! I’m a little late in sending this in due to some issues with tumblr (the app decided that your blog didn’t exist at all for some reason) but I just wanted to send in a big, heartfelt thank you for entertaining the matchup request I sent in!! I was seriously blown away by the details and effort you put in and your timing was impeccable as it really cheered me up after a rough day at work :,) You put so much thought into everything and I can’t help but wish to see how you’d tackle a matchup with a male bot for me too, if you would at all be willing to indulge me?

I was really surprised that I got paired up with Velocity and all the scenarios were so cute and wholesome that I couldn’t help rereading them again and again- I loved the way you characterised her and I’ll definitely treasure your post forever. Not to mention, it was my first time requesting a matchup anywhere so I was kind of shocked when I got the notification for it 💀 Thank you so much for putting in the time despite being busy and for this blog in general. Your writing really does lift my spirits!

My rambling aside, I was wondering about your opinion on fan gifts and if you’d like a piece of transformers related art? It could be an OC, a favourite bot or even just your persona if you’ve got one, anything at all. I’ve seen some blogs that are uncomfortable with surprise gifts and such, so I thought I’d check with you first to make sure. I just wanted to thank you in some way for responding so earnestly, so please do let me know what you think! If you aren’t up to receiving them, though, it’s absolutely okay! I simply wish to convey how grateful I am, so think of this ask as fan mail that you aren’t obligated to reply to/engage with.

- A very thrilled anon (ง’̀-‘́)ง ✨

A/N : Hello Anon !! Thank you for taking the time out of your day to write this for me, it does mean a lot! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ I'm so glad you enjoyed my work and I do try my best to put in as much detail as I can to make every matchup feel special. I'm sorry you had to go through a terrible day at work, but it warms my heart to know I can help make your day a bit better (｡𓎆 𓎺 𓎆)

Of course! I'd love to indulge you therefore I'll match you up with IDW Rung!

01| Rung is inherently a creative nurturer with this drive to help others. That is why he's the best mech to go to whenever you have trouble expressing your feelings. Rung is patient and encouraging, giving you this safe space that allows you to vent and understand your emotions. He's more than happy to take the first step forward for you. Whenever you isolate yourself, Rung would come looking for you, offering you his help. His concern for you extends professional barriers as he regards you as someone special to him. This sense of comfort and trust was one of the many reasons why your friendship eventually turned romantic.

02| He admires your love for philosophy. Rung is also one for literature and art, so conversation was easy between the two of you. You'll often visit him in his office to spend time together and it warms his heart to know that you approach him for company ( a lot of people only tend to go to him when they want something, so it was a nice change of pace.) You'll be reading to him your latest poem while he assembles his miniature boats. You like how versatile Rung was: beautifully handling topics that most people can't usually stomach. Thanks to you, he has started to open up as well. While sharing stories of his past with you, Rung's eyes were bright and loving.

03 | Although you are subtle with your show of love, it doesn't make Rung cherish you any less. The reason you make such a good pair is that Rung is good at reading people. He knows you're sincere every time. Both of you are more on the bashful side of showing your affection so there's a lot of blushing and stuttering. But once the initial awkwardness wears off, physical touch comes naturally. When in Swerves, the two of you will be holding hands under the table. Rung giving you silent support whenever you start to feel too overwhelmed with the crowd. He also likes stroking your cheeks and holding you close, always delighted whenever you give him handmade gifts. He tries his best to return the gesture: Rung occasionally surprising you with a bundle of novels and books he got from shore leave.

04| Speaking of shore leave, Rung would always take you to the local market to explore the foreign planet's culture. He was more than happy to go on a culinary journey with you even if he can't eat anything, as long as you were enjoying yourself that was more than enough for him. He makes sure to always keep an eye on you because he knows you like to wander around. To avoid being separated, Rung would insist on linking your arms together. Or when he does not have his mass displaced, Rung would carry you away from the commotion. Smiling at you in his arms ( he likes how you make him feel strong, although he's too shy to say it aloud.)

05| Arguments between you and Rung were almost nonexistent. As natural peacemakers, both of you loathe conflict. Yet, when problems arise, Rung isn't the type to shy away from them. Your perfectionism paired with Rung's sensitivity towards criticism may lead to a few disagreements. But it's nothing you both can't handle, especially when no one is better than Rung in finding a win-win solution.

06| Spending time with you is something Rung looks forward to. He loves watching you do art and is supportive of your passions, knowing you'll do great things in the future. Although Rung prefers your taste in historical fiction and comedy, he would sit through horror movies for you every once in a while. Rung has a difficult time accepting the love he deserves. For eons, he's spent his life alone. Now, Rung is more than happy to share it with you.

A/N: I hope you enjoy this anon! Also thank you for the offer on a fan gift (≧∇≦). I am open to fan gifts but you are not obliged to give me anything in return as I am more than happy to give this matchup !! (ˊ•͈ ◡ •͈ˋ) However, if you'd like, I will be more than happy and honoured to receive your present !! I'm very touched, thank you! We can talk about it further in the Tumblr chat or you can drop by my Instagram ( @/primergonn) for a dm. Or you can choose whichever is best for you and I'll follow. Thank you so much for the sweet offer Anon! I'm really thrilled <3 ＊*♡( ⁎ᵕᴗᵕ⁎ ）

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messifangirl · 3 years

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I... I kinda want to know more about the Cressi waiter and Royalty AUs? They sound like incredible stories. Is vampire/werewolf the one you have a chapter posted? Could you show something more, pretty please?

(Adding a cut!)

The Waiter AU I actually wrote way back in the day. It’s Like A Fairy Tale (5.5k) But I always wanted to write a follow up to it and I have a lot of notes and pieces the sequel. Here’s some:

Cristiano rolls his eyes. "Nothing's wrong," he says. "I just feel like..." He lowers his voice. "Like, I'm chasing him." It sounds silly to say it out loud, and Cristiano's fears are proved right by Marcelo's response.

Marcelo laughs. "Good! It's about time somebody made you work for it." He slaps Cristiano on the arm, laughing again and turning back to his bag. "I like him even more now. Make sure he stops by after the game so I can say hi." He fist bumps Sergio and heads towards the exit.

Sergio watches him leave before focusing on Cristiano. "So it's a little unusual for you. And you're chasing him. But... He's worth it, right Cris?" He widens his eyes imploringly and bites his lip. "I mean, you love him." He flicks his eyes around the room to see if anyone overheard him before turning his attention back to Cristiano. "Right? You've always loved him. He was your first kiss!"

Cristiano's smile dims a little. "Sergio," he says, exhaling and tilting his head back. "It's not that easy, okay?"

And this really isn't a conversation he wants to be having here.

Or at all.

A few seats down, Fabio catches his eye and looks at him questioningly--ready to save him from Sergio if necessary. Cristiano gives a quick shake, indicating everything is fine.

"What do you mean?" Sergio asks, crestfallen. He sits down on the bench in front of Cristiano as if his knees can't hold him up anymore. A hand darts to his waist to fidget with his towel. "You don't love him anymore?" His voice wobbles.

"Sergio," Cristiano starts, rubbing a hand across his face. He takes a deep breath. "I *did* love him. Once. As a child... But it's been fifteen years. And sure, I like him. But I like the idea of him—I liked who he was, and of course I like the look of him now. That's not the point, of course... But things have changed for the both of us... He doesn't know me, and I don't know him. Not really.”

Sergio's still looking up at him with sad eyes. "But..."

Cristiano huffs. "All I'm saying is, we're taking things slow, okay? And it's a little hard, what with our schedule, and the fact that he works two jobs." He shuts his eyes and pictures Leo's face, imagines stroking his cheek and seeing that gorgeous smile. "But yes," he says quietly, opening his eyes again. "I think he's worth it."

The Royalty AU is actually a fairly new idea. Royalty AU has always been one of my fav AUs to read in other fandoms but because I’ve reread kkslover9′s A Tale of Two Princes a thousand times and it is sooooo good, I never really thought to try my own. Until now. It’s still very much in the works and being outlined, and I just completely decided to rewrite the beginning so I don’t want to give you anything that won’t make it into the final, but here’s a little haha.

"It's your duty," Sergio says quietly. "We're all required to do our part. Mine, since I was a child, has been to follow your every step and keep you safe from all harm." He claps a hand on Cristiano's shoulder. "And yours is to lead your people when the time comes. You've already proved your worth in battle, and your men will follow you anywhere. But you've been raised since birth with the expectation to one day take the throne when His Majesty passes. And despite your feelings about what's happening today, I know that you're aware of your responsibilities."

Cristiano's jaw tightens but he forces himself to relax. "Of course you're right," he says, shifting to lean against the wall as well. "I'm just..." He trails off and swallows his frustration down until he can find the words. "I would have preferred Prince Koke over some savage from Barcelona," he adds with a huff. "At least I've met Koke and he's not terrible to look at."

"Koke?" Sergio scoffs. "We both know that you could never be interested in a man who never picked up the sword." He wiggles his eyebrows. "Now, on the other hand, they say Prince Lionel--like you--has commanded Barcelona's armies for years. He's the second son and barely ever attended court. And when he did return home, it was never without a trophy from battle. Apparently, his skill with the sword is unmatched. They call him La Pulga." He quirks his lips. "Think he'd be up for a bout? I'd love to see if what they say is true. And if so, test myself against the best."

Cristiano ignores him. "La Pulga? He's going to be hideous," he murmurs. "I just know it. Probably some uncivilized creature who's disgustingly bloodthirsty and unfit to be seen in our company." He stares down toward the courtyard again, and shudders. "I don't even want to think about it."

The Vampire/Werewolf one is the one I posted a chapter of, yes. It was inspired by some art @detodores did for Cressi week a while back. Here’s some not yet posted :)

The vampire--Leo--looks away, seeming embarrassed. "Yes, but... I'm sorry, it's just feeding is usually just such a private process." He opens his mouth and then closes it like he's rethinking his words. "I fed from two of the wolves from the other pack. They were the ones that volunteered, and I will not betray their names," he says warningly.

"So it did not have to be from all of them?" Cristiano asks, his worries about how much the vampire needed to drink coming to the surface. On the other hand, he's grateful that the rest of his pack can be kept safe and be spared the entire process.

"I realize you are just curious," Leo says with a blink, "however you should be aware that you have just implied I am very promiscuous." He doesn't quite look at Cristiano. "As I said, it is a private process. It can be very... sensual."

Cristiano's cheeks flush as he realizes his misstep. "You're saying it's like fucking," he says, envisioning throttling Sergio for sending him in to do this. Wolves are not shy of their bodies, with the constant shifting leading to the necessity of nudity, but anything leading to actual sexual acts is much rarer and much more sacred.

Leo has no reaction to the crude word. "It can be. Or, it can be simply... meaningful." He sighs. "Blood given is very different from blood taken, despite what you have read or what they show in movies and shows these days. It's about a connection with someone, as well as being about nourishment."

"So it doesn't hurt?" Cristiano asks then, not really wanting to explore this any more than he has to. He's grateful to turn away from the mention of sex and into something else. Of course, he's also somewhat incredulous that such a thing is painless.

"I can make it hurt," Leo says, eyes still not looking at Cristiano. "But I do not. There's no point." He tilts his head as if in thought. "I can not speak for others of my kind. If you are bitten by another vampire, it may not be as I have described."

"So you're not a monster," Cristiano says skeptically, thinking back to the tales of Dracula and trying to replace them with something like a sparkling Edward Cullen.

"Oh, no," Leo says, interrupting his thoughts. "Make no mistake. I am most definitely a monster." He smiles again, and this time, shows two large fangs jutting down from the top of his mouth. They're as white as the rest of him, looking sharp and pointy and dangerous. "Even in this," he pauses and sounds frustrated, "weakened state. I would not call myself anything other than a monster."

"You've killed people then," Cristiano ventures, easing the pressure on his heels even as the conversation does nothing to ease his anxiety.

"Haven't you?" Leo asks, sounding tired again. "The world is not always kind to monsters, is it? And I've lived a very long time. I've had to eat. Had to survive." He closes his eyes again, black lashes stark against his pale skin. "Humans have always been so fragile... It's why I thought working with the wolves would be so beneficial. A way to take humans out of the equation entirely."

"And now your wolves have abandoned you," Cristiano says flatly. "Left you here, in our territory, to die. Because they certainly know we have you. They've had a month to figure that out. And still, they did nothing." He doesn't know why he's trying to drive this point home. Maybe because he hates those wolves and wants Leo to hate them too.

Leo does not reply.

#fic #my fic #football fandom #football fanfiction #football rpf #cressi #waiter au #royalty au #vampire au #my writing #tocadoguara

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emilyoftheshadows · 3 years

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Person A catches a bus home everyday, but today, they're so exhausted that they fall asleep, suddely they feel a light tap on their shoulder and open their eyes to see a cute guy/gal/person smiling at them. "Sorry to wake you, bit this is your stop, i hope you slept well"

So, this is the first piece I have written and posted here! This is a fluffy drabble loosely based on the prompt above as well as some tik tok ideas i've seen. I hope you enjoy and don't judge too hard :)

~~~~~~

Aelin never knew that she could feel such a wide range of emotions in such a short amount of time. The hectic events she had endured earlier in her day had left her drained and in dire need of sleep.

She started out her mornings as usual - brewing her coffee with the help of an overly excited Fleetfoot. On the subway ride to work, coffee in hand, she explicitly remembered checking her emails for any important notices regarding her job. As an advertising agent, she dealt with multiple clients at one time. With her meticulously organized calendar and the help of her overworked assistant Marion, she was usually able to keep everything in check. Today was not one of those days.

As she entered her office, Marion greeted her with her tablet in hand- Aelin’s schedule color coded, labeled and sorted by hour.

“Good morning Ms. Galathynius, ready to hear your schedule for today?” Aelin nodded, sipping her coffee as Marion listed her client meetings for the upcoming day. As they entered her office, Aelin paused.

“Marion, could you please repeat that first meeting again?”

“The Havilliard Scotch pitch at 12?” And that was when Aelin knew she was fucked. This pitch was meant for a well known drinking company in New York, fast on the come up. Havilliard Sr. was known to be picky about his branding, scrutinizing most agencies that had helped him before. She had barely gotten this client, practically begging Nehemia for the job. As she worked the branding, she had become worried about the content she was producing.

She was so worried about this pitch, that she had taken her laptop home last night in hopes of triple checking her work for mistakes and to fine tune some details. And that's where her laptop was at that moment. At her apartment, across town, sitting on her desk, collecting dust. Her mind raced at how to solve her predicament. The subway ride to and from her apartment was too long of a trip to make before the meeting and, like an amateur, she hadn’t saved her files anywhere else but her laptop. She was completely fucked.

Marion stood in the doorway, confused on what was going on in Aelin’s head. Aelin decided to finally release herself from her stupor. “Marion, could you please go find Aedion for me? And tell him it’s an emergency.”

With a determined look on her face, her assistant went as fast as her short legs could carry her to Aedion’s office on the adjacent part of the building floor she was on. Within minutes, Aedion was standing at her door, panting like he had just sprinted the fastest race of his life. The good thing about having her overbearing cousin work with her, is that she knew that in any problem he would help in an instant. And this was one hell of a fucking problem.

“What happened Aelin? Are you okay? Were you hurt? Do you need an ambulance?”

“You idiot I am physically fine, but still screwed and I need your help.” Aedion released the first breath Aelin had seen him take since entering her office.

“You know, when Marion power walked into my office saying you had an EMERGENCY and she didn’t know what was wrong with you, I definitely thought you would be passed out on your floor with blood on your face. But, you know, thanks for the heart attack. Really woke me up this morning.”

Aelin rolled her eyes at him. He was more dramatic than her, and that spoke volumes in itself.

“Aedion, please it really is an emergency. I have the big pitch for the Havilliard Scotch today and I left my laptop with the presentation at my apartment.” Aedion’s eyes widened in surprise. He knew that Aelin had been obsessed about this pitch and that mistakes like this only happened to her once in a blue moon. Aelin saw understanding dawn on his face and took that as a sign to continue.

“Now, I know a while back I sent you the rough drafts of the branding from when I first got the pitch. Is there any chance that you have the email or presentation saved still? If I have the basis of the presentation, I have an hour to build on it and hopefully fix this.”

Aedion’s face fell at the request. “We can go look, but you know I’m not the best at organizing my files Ace. It could be anywhere on my computer or not at all.” With those reaffirming words, Aelin and Aedion walked at a brisk pace back to his office. Combing through Aedion’s computer was an agonizing process. There were files saved from years ago that should’ve been deleted, and backtracking through all the contents of his computer made Aelin want to stab her eyes out. But it was all worth it, because hidden in the depths of this man’s terribly organized computer was the presentation. With a quick click of a button, she emailed the document to herself. She gave a half ass hug to Aedion, then practically ran to her office to start reworking her pitch on the computer there.

Aelin believed it was pure adrenaline that enabled her to finish her pitch in time for the Havilliard meeting. With a strong foundation laid out before her from her first draft, she had constructed almost her exact pitch that was left at home. Aelin waited for the Havilliards in the boardroom, smoothing out her clothes as she paced at the front. Far too soon, Marion escorted Havilliard Sr., Dorian Havilliard, and their close friend and partner Chaol Westfall into the room for her presentation. The three men had sat down in silence with no introduction, except for a small encouraging smile from the younger Havilliard. Taking that as her sign to start, Aelin cleared her throat.

“Hello gentlemen, today I want to present to you the future of Havilliard Scotch…”

---

As the men had exited the room single file, Aelin finally allowed herself to relax. That had felt like the longest pitch of her life. Going into the meeting, she had known the men were notorious for being extremely serious and critical of their agents. What she had not expected was the whispered words between the men after she had finished her presentation. As she looked on, Dorian Havilliard had finally broken away from their circle to address her.

“Miss Galathynius, thank you for your time. We will get back to you shortly about our decision to run with this branding or not.” With a quick nod and gesture to his companions, the trio had stood up and left the room. She was utterly shocked. Aelin had poured her sweat and tears into this pitch, quite literally, and they had just thanked her and left. No critiques, no opinions, no nothing.

Quite honestly, Aelin was exhausted. She had spent most of her brain power reworking that pitch in that 45 minutes before that meeting and she had nothing left to give today. Yet, she still had a full schedule left to woo clients and work on her other projects. By the time Aelin trudged back to the subway, she was ready for a nice dinner at home followed by a restorative night of sleep with Fleetfoot at her side.

Now, as she entered the subway, she immediately noticed the mystery man sitting down a few feet away from her. The man was moderately built, with muscles that were outlined by the fabric of his long sleeve t-shirt. His style was simple with a pair of nice jeans and Doc Marten boots, but that just allowed one's focus to settle on the beautiful creation that was his face. Mystery man had a strong jawline, lined with a bit of stubble and scruff. His eyes were a beautiful shade of green like none that she had seen before, his head topped with luscious silver hair. As the subway started, Mystery Man continued to sketch drawings into his book. Now, Aelin was never one to back down from an opportunity to flirt with one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. She was a single woman in a big city, why the hell not. But her day had taken a toll on her, and she just didn’t know if this was the right time or place. So, she opted to put in her headphones as she waited for her stop, listening to relaxing music to calm her anxieties regarding the failed Havilliard pitch.

Seeing that her stop was next, Aelin rose from her seat to wait in line for the doors to open. As she waited, she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Low and behold, there was the Mystery Man standing next to her with a piece of paper in hand. As she pulled her headphone out, the man silently handed her the paper. Looking down, she saw a pencil sketch of herself on the subway. The drawing was beautifully done with bold lines and harsh shading, contrasted by highlights created from the fluorescent lights of the subway. Her eyes welled up, immediately grateful for this thoughtful gift after such a horrible day. The Mystery Man saw her emotions, startled to see tears welling up in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy. I just… I like to draw and when I saw you… I mean, it’s just you’re so stunning..” The man’s face flushed red as he tried to justify his beautiful art. Aelin laughed out loud for the first time today at his misunderstanding of her swell of emotions.

“Oh no, these are just tears of..uhmm.. happiness? I guess…” She started to flush at her own awkwardness, trying to explain her emotions this time.

“I just had a really rough day and feel like shit. But this drawing is beautiful and I really am grateful that such a talented artist like yourself chose me as your muse today.” Aelin watched as the Mystery Man reacted to such a lavish compliment, somehow developing an even deeper blush with a shy smile . Gaining confidence from his reaction, she decided to make her move before she exited for her upcoming stop.

“Hey, Mystery Man, why don’t I give you my number? Seeing that I am your muse and all, I would really like to learn more about your art.” It was a subpar pickup line at best, but hey, she had a long day and for the circumstance she thought it good enough. The man gave a deep timbered laugh at her pickup line, clearly enjoying their conversation now.

“I think I might be one step ahead of you actually. Flip the drawing over.” As she flipped the paper, she saw a messy scrawl with the name Rowan, and what she could only assume was his number. The sight of these two things brought her complete giddiness. Giddiness that made you want to jump in the air and pump your fist because you're so excited. She looked up at Rowan, smirking as she tucked the piece of paper into her purse.

As the subway doors opened and they were pushed apart by bypassers, she turned around one last time to look at the man who had brightened her day beyond belief. She winked at Rowan as she walked away, not missing the wide smile he gave in return as the subway doors closed and continued on to the next stop.

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buckyswheezes · 3 years

Text

Cruel Summer (Pt. 1/2)

Premise: Steve was 7, Bucky was 6, and you were 4 when you became family. And it was in the summer of your last year in high school when things started to change.

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes / What doesn't kill me makes me want you more

author's note: First of all, this did not go the way I planned it to. Second, I was wrong; this isn't one-shot but a two-shot fic. Finally, I hope you guys like it. Again, @lokisblackwidow's post made me do this. Sorry if it's different from what you expected it to be.

warning: this fic contains cursing, sexual shit, and incest. Read at your own risk

It's been 15 years since your family moved to New York to start anew. The concrete jungle, skyscrapers, and bustling broadway shows were a stark contrast to California's tropical and easy-going nature. You were too young, though, to notice such things because you were just three years old at the time and mostly spent your time confused because you haven't seen your mom in a long time.

It's only been dad and your brother Steve for weeks now, and both didn't know how to tie your hair the way you like or read those bedtime stories you loved so much. Years later, you finally realized why -she died. The next thing you knew, you have a new mom and a new brother. It's been that way since.

"How's the college application going?" Steve's gruff voice came from the ongoing Facetime.

"I haven't had my breakfast. Can I please have my breakfast first?" You replied, annoyed. You didn't want to be reminded of that first thing in the morning. You slumped down on the seat beside your mom, and she handed you a cup of freshly brewed coffee. "Thanks, mom," You muttered.

Your dad sat on the other side of the table, flipping through the day's paper, and beside him sat Bucky, stuffing his face with bacon, completely ignoring the chaos around him. The empty seat beside him was where Steve sat (when he's home, that is, which was rare nowadays), but the tablet with his huge face plastered in it was placed on the space on the table, so it felt as if you were all still having breakfast together.

"Ooh, someone's grumpy."

"I'm gonna beat your ass when you get home." You threatened.

"Well, joke's on you 'cause I'm not."

"You're not?" Mom frowned.

Steve shifted to look at her. "I took a summer course this year, Biostats. It'll help with my thesis."

"You sure you're not just fonduing with Maryland girls in the summer?"

"Shut up, Buck. You're the playboy in the family, not me."

"Alright, boys!" Your mom chastised then turned to Steve again. "Well, you take care, and if you need anything, just give us a call."

"Will do."

Steve attended Johns Hopkins University -unarguably one of the best universities in America when it comes to Medicine. He'd always wanted to be a doctor, and even though he never said it, you knew it was because of your biological mom. He could've gotten into Harvard, but like you, Steve itched to get out of New York for a change of environment. It was only Bucky who didn't want to go anywhere, and so he attended NYU.

You love New York, no doubt about that. You grew up exploring its Burroughs, and the Central Park had been a staple in your formative years, but lately, you just wanted to get away from all of it. Recently, something changed, and you convinced yourself that it was because it's your last year in high school and you will be going to college soon.

But you knew there was something else. Well, maybe it was also because you turned 18 early this year, you're legal now, and with your going to college on the other side of the coast, you were excited to have a bit of freedom. CalArts was your first choice, being into Performing Arts and all that. Now, your parents weren't painfully strict, but being the youngest and only girl in the family, they couldn't help but be a little protective.

When Steve went to Baltimore two years ago, you were quite relieved. You get it; you're his only sister, but the way he used to hover around and scare away boys grated your nerves. You were just thankful that by sophomore year, he was gone. He'd passed on the mantle to Bucky, but he didn't really care -well, not as much as Steve did.

"Dad, don't forget you're picking me up later after school. I can't be late for my rehearsal." You reminded. Across the table, your old man's jaw dropped.

"I'm sorry, honey, was that today?"

"Uhh yeah, you forgot already?"

"Sorry, it slipped my mind, honey. How about you pick her up, Buck?" He turned to your step-brother.

"What?!" You shrieked in unison.

"I can't. I have stuff to do." He whined. You roll your eyes at his lame excuse.

"No, it's fine. I'll just ask Peter to come with me."

"Who's he, your new boyfriend?" Bucky spat.

You glared at him across the table. "No, he's not. I don't even have a boyfriend; you and Steve made sure of that." You downed the last of your coffee before shooting daggers at him once more. "Don't pick me up. Go do your stuff."

"Bucky…" It was mom's turn to speak.

"Fine!" He grumbled.

————

"Bye, Peter. See you around!" You stood up from the bench where you and your friend sat as soon as you saw Bucky drove up the school's entrance.

You don't know what your step-brother's problem was, but lately, he'd been nothing but irritable and annoyed, especially with your presence. You didn't wait for him to call you, so you jogged as quickly as you could across the schoolyard, silently climbing on the passenger seat as soon you reached where he pulled over.

You cast a wary glance at him; he didn't speak to you since you got on. He didn't even acknowledge your presence. His jaw was set, and he was intent on ignoring you, it seems, for the duration of the ride.

You and Bucky weren't always like this. You two were close; you played a lot when you were kids, you built forts, you wrestled, you chased each other with whatever gooey stuff you put your little hands on. Over the years, he became distant. You'd started to feel distant when Bucky and Steve entered junior high -you just couldn't relate to the stuff they talk about anymore. You're still very close with Steve, but with Bucky, he just drifted further away, especially when you entered high school. Bucky was only two years ahead, so you always saw him around during your freshman year. He was very popular, it seems. Senior girls used to befriend you in hopes of getting close to your step-brother.

You couldn't take it any more of his animosity, so you fully faced him, shifting in your seat. "Have I done something wrong, Buck?"

He looked at you incredulously for a second before turning his attention back on the road.

Annoyed at his lack of response, you hit his shoulder with your fist.

"What the hell y/n! I'm driving. Do you want us to die?!" He growled.

You retreated back to your seat, feeling remorseful for a second. Only for a second, then you burst out crying. "I hate you! I wish you're not my brother!"

You heard him chuckle, but he obviously wasn't amused. "Yeah, wish you weren't my sister too."

———

Bucky was in his last year in high school when he noticed it. He was waiting outside the school library because you said you needed to borrow a book before the two of you go home.

When Steve went off to college, he promised he'd look after you. He noticed firsthand how guys from all grade levels flock to you, hoping they'd catch your attention. Now, Bucky knew what these guys really want, and that's to get in your pants. Over his dead body would he allow that to transpire. So you two always walked home together.

He craned his neck to peek through the giant doors, wondering what's taking you long when he saw you chatting with a guy. His brows furrowed while his lips formed a thin, grim line.

Your smile reached your ears, your eyes glistened in obvious delight, and your cheeks flushed. Your shy gaze was directed at the guy in front of you.

Bucky frowns even more, when the guy ruffled your hair, a gesture that only he has the right to do (he believes). He felt a vein in his head pop in irritation. He felt like punching someone.

"Hey, Buck, let's go!" You chimed, pulling him out of his murderous thoughts.

"Who were you talking to?"

"Oh, that's Stephen. A junior in the dance club." You almost giggled.

"Huh." He scoffed.

The next time he noticed it happen was when he stayed around to watch your cheer dance rehearsals. Your skimpy cheerleader outfit didn't leave much to the imagination; that's why he decided to hover around, ready to pounce on whoever looked at you the funny.

Bucky looked away for a second to glance at his phone when screams filled the schoolyard. The next thing he knew, you were in the air -free-falling. He ran as fast as his feet could take him to catch you, his heart pounding in his ears. Fortunately, someone was there to catch you before you hit the ground.

You fell on top of the guy -Stephen. He gritted his teeth, half-annoyed, half-grateful at the piece of shit. He saw how you stayed on top of him for a few seconds more; furiously blushing. The moment he reached you, Bucky yanked you up and from the guy's body.

"You okay?" He fussed, searching your body for any sign of injury.

"I'm fine, Buck. Stephen caught me." You bit your lip as you shyly looked back at the guy. "Umm, thanks again."

"Yeah, thanks, man," Bucky grumbled, pulling you away from the group.

The way your body rested on another guy just didn't sit well with him. Once again, he felt like punching someone, and that someone is Stephen. He hated the way the guy was always around you. Bucky was sure what his motive was, and he'll never let him get it.

"I want ice cream." You muttered later that afternoon on your way home.

Bucky scoffed at your request. "What are you, five?"

You stopped walking and faced him, a pout on your lips. "Steve always buys me ice cream."

"Well, I'm not Steve."

"Please, I fell off someone's shoulder and almost hit my head. What if I died?"

"What has that got to do with ice cream?"

"I hate you. You're the worst brother, ever."

Bucky chuckled at your antics; he knew you didn't mean it. You just say that to get what you want because when you were kids, Steve and he used to compete for the Best Brother Award. "Fine." He conceded with a smile. He grabbed your grabbed, and you both ran to the nearest ice cream parlor, ordering one big bowl of banana split sundae and stuffing your faces.

Bucky's whole body tensed when your moans filled your ears. He didn't mind it back then, you were young and innocent, but now, Bucky couldn't ignore the sound spilling from your mouth. Sweat dripped down his nape.

This isn't right.

Your moans seem to ring louder in his ears. The way you licked your spoon clean was not helping his situation either. Bucky thinks about the thin line between sanity and insanity when the chocolate syrup trickled from your lips down to your chin until it reached the supple skin of your neck.

"I need to go to the bathroom." He muttered and hastily jolted from his seat, scrambling away from you. Bucky has a growing problem inside his pants, and he needs to take care of it.

Stop this, Bucky, you need to stop this! His mind chastised while his hands unbuckled his belt. You shouldn't feel this… this way towards her. He's your step-sister. It's wrong.

As soon as he reached his release, he made up his mind. He'll stay away from you; kinda impossible since you both live in the same house, but he'll try his best for both your sakes.

Bucky stopped waiting for you after school. He stopped watching your rehearsals. He stopped helping you with your Math home works and, much to your mom's surprise, he started watching evening dramas with her in the living room every night.

So to answer your question, the one you shot at him when he picked you up from school that day. Yes, you did something wrong.

You grew up. And it's been hard for him to see you as his step-sister ever since.

——————

The last day of school finally rolled in, and you intended to enjoy summer before you start college. What you didn't see coming, though, was being left alone with Bucky for one whole week because your parents are going on a cruise.

"Can't I come with you?" You pleaded, eyes wide as you hauled your mom's baggage into the back of the taxi.

"Sorry, honey. Promise, we'll be back as soon as we can." She replied before giving you a hug.

"Don't leave me here. Bucky's gonna bully me all week."

"He won't, right Bucky?" She raised a brow at him, who stood with his arms crossed, looking annoyed.

"Try not to destroy the house while we're away." Was their final reminder before they went on their way.

Bucky was the first one to get back inside the house. Dread ate up your insides; you two haven't spoken since the car ride. You decided once and for all to get things straight with him. So you marched inside about five minutes later.

Bucky heard you barge in his room, but he remained still -eyes closed and pretending to be asleep. He jolted up when you unceremoniously hit his stomach with a pillow.

"What the hell, y/n?!" He snarled, clearly pissed at your assault.

Your nose flared at his attitude. "What is your problem, James Barnes?" You growled in return.

"Am I the one with a problem here?"

"Oh, come on! You know what I mean!"

Bucky pushed past you; you trailed behind, following his figure towards the living room. He needed to get away from you, fast. It irked him that you wouldn't stay the fuck out of his way. You'd even come and gone into his room. Bucky couldn't take it; he'd go crazy.

"Why are you avoiding me? Bucky!… Bucky! Answer me, damn it!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, y/n. So, leave me alone." He was about to reach the door when you threw yourself in front of it, barring his way out. "Move."

"NO! You're not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong." You crossed your arms, planting your feet firmly on the floor. You weren't gonna let this day end without knowing why Bucky acts the way he does. If it was something that you did, then you'd wholeheartedly make it right, but you'll never know if he keeps on brushing you off. So, here you are.

"Y/n, move." Bucky hissed menacingly."

"No, Bucky." You replied in the same manner.

After your brief glaring contest, Bucky finally looked away, sighing in defeat. "Fine. Something's not right, okay? But it's not you, it's… it's… me, so let me handle this myself."

You relaxed and took a step closer to him. "Can't you tell me? I might be able to help."

Bucky looked away. How could he possibly tell you that he's harboring un-brotherly feelings towards you -his step-sister. How could he possibly tell you that you turn him on, that he's having inappropriate thoughts about you for a year now? How could he possibly tell you that he might be falling in love with you?

All those times you spent together when Steve was gone. The times you intently and genuinely listened to his adolescent problems. The times you cheered for him when he played football in high school. You were his number one fan. You were so different from the others, and he hated how it made him look at you differently. He hated when you boys started coming into your life. He always believed that you had a special place in your heart for him, but now he feared that anyone might snatch that place from him. You were his best girl.

Bucky grimaced at his realization. He finally admitted to himself that he is, indeed, falling in love with you. He felt angry at himself. How could he let this happen? He thought he was in control of his emotions.

"Eventually, I'll tell you. But not now." He said softly, hoping you'd let him go.

But you were persistent. "No, Bucky. I want you to tell me now." You demanded.

"Y/n," He growled loudly this time. "Move out of my way!"

"I won't until you tell me."

"Move!"

"Just tell me!"

Bucky's resolve broke. The sirens in his mind went off, but he ignored them as he strode towards you intently. He smirked when your bravado faltered before vanishing completely when he pushed you against the door; your bodies pressed together, making sure you could feel the tent growing against his pants.

Your eyes widened in shock. "Wha-"

"You wanna know why? Huh," He asked through gritted teeth, his face hovered dangerously close to yours that you could feel the hot breath coming through his nose. Bucky didn't give you time to answer because he roughly crashed his lips towards yours. He wasted no time shoving his tongue inside your mouth.

Bucky could feel your hands against his chest, pushing him away. He could hear the muffled pleas of protest as he relentlessly assaulted your mouth. His lips left yours only to find themselves on your neck, sucking on your skin.

"Bu.. Bucky.. stop.. s-s-top." Tears cascaded down your cheeks, but you were frozen in spot, unable to wipe them away.

But Bucky ignored your appeal. He continued sucking your skin while his hands traveled your side, feeling you up. When he couldn't get enough of you, he bit the skin on your shoulder.

You yelped in pain. "Stop! Stop, get off me!"

Still, Bucky did not listen. Dissatisfied with his actions, he dragged and threw you towards the couch; he straddled over you, your hands pinned on the cushion. You squirmed beneath him, trying to escape his hold.

Bucky pulled your shirt up and found his lips back on your skin again; this time, he latched on your erect nipple and sucked as if his life depended on it. When he was done abusing both your buds, he moved to kiss your lips again, but your tear-stricken face met his eyes.

Bucky went stiff as a board, and you used that opportunity to push him, backing off as far as you can from him. Your loud sobs filled the house as you sank to a pool at your feet, hugging your knees to yourself.

You couldn't believe what your step-brother had done. Your mind couldn't begin to fathom his actions.

Bucky sat motionless, his horror-struck at his deed. He bit back the long line of profanities that ran inside his head as he stared dumbfounded at your crumpled figure.

A painful pang of guilt washed over him like a tidal wave. What had he done?

"Y/n.. I-I'm… I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He said and scrambled out of the house.

Bucky didn't come home for three days while you spent it in a daze.

Bucky kissed you; he put his tongue inside your mouth. He touched you in your private parts. He sucked on your nipple while you lay beneath him. He held you like a lover would.

But he was your brother; why would he do that?

The sound of the front door opening pulled you out from your thoughts. Your gaze met Bucky's; he had dark circles around his eyes, and you wondered briefly whose house he crashed when he didn't come home.

"Bucky…" You stood from the couch and approached him.

Bucky liked that about you. You were brave and face things head-on; you're not one to back down, just cause you were scared. But he doesn't think he could handle you right now, not after what he's done. He walked past you, intent on ignoring you.

"After what you did, I at least deserve to know the truth, don't you think?"

Your words hit home. You were right; you deserved at least that much. Sighing, he turned back and sat down on the couch.

"I know this is downright wrong, but I'm in love with you, y/n," Bucky confessed softly, and he heard your small gasp.

"But, we're… I'm your sister."

"step-sister," He corrected. "I can't help it. I love you more than a step-brother could love his step-sister. I love you as a woman y/n. I tried to stop it, but it was hard."

You deserved to know the truth no matter how disgusting, condemning, or how sinful it was.

"I am still trying." Bucky continued, and this time, he gave you a firm look. "And I need, need you to help me."

Your heart skipped a beat. "What do you want me to do, Buck?"

"Stay away from me."

You pulled back in shock. "But-"

"No buts!" He hissed. "Can't you see how hard this is for me? You think it's easy to stay away from you when I love you?" He pleaded. "After this, I want you to stay away, don't talk to me unless it's a life or death situation."

"Mom and dad will notice."

"Then don't make them notice." He got up and approached you, then reached for your hand, clasping them together. "Please, y/n, you have to."

With a heavy heart, you nodded. Bucky moved and gave you a quick peck on the forehead, and it felt like goodbye.

Weeks quickly flew by, fortunately for the both of you, your parents didn't notice a thing. You bickered like you used to during breakfast, but both of you knew that it was forced. When they weren't around, which was much since both of them worked, you barely talked to each other and were barely left alone in the house.

Bucky spent most of his time playing basketball -his new hobby to get his mind off you. He's always gone during weekends playing with his college friend Sam Wilson. You saw the guy once when Bucky invited him to dinner with your family. After that, Sam can frequently be seen in the house. Your parents were cool with it since Steve didn't come home for summer.

One afternoon, Sam was there again; you could hear their banter all the way up to your room. However, what really bothered you though was the presence of a woman -Sharon. She's Bucky and Sam's classmate in one of their class, and along with Sam, she started hanging out at your house.

You groaned, annoyed. You couldn't focus on the application essay you were supposed to write with that woman's shrill voice downstairs. You slammed your fist against your study table, intent on giving the three a piece of your mind. You stood up and marched downstairs, catching their attention.

Sharon sat between Sam and Bucky, and they were pretty occupied with a mobile game before you came.

"Can you guys keep it down? You're not the only people in the house."

"Oops, sorry, y/n." Sharon squeaked.

"We'll keep it down," Sam promised.

You just nodded before glaring at Bucky, who did not even acknowledge your presence. You grumbled something before storming back to your room, slamming the door close.

Sharon and Sam ended up having dinner with them again. With Sharon seated beside Bucky, again. Your mom told them to drop by again. And, Bucky walked Sharon home, again.

And you were getting tired of this. You wanted to help Bucky, but you can't just sit back and watch him replace you with someone else. No, you can't allow it. This has to stop.

You waited for Bucky to come home; you were in his room sitting on his bed with a determined look on your face.

As soon as Bucky stepped inside, he was shoved against the door, making it slam close. He winced at the pain on his back, but he was startled and shocked when he felt your lips connect with his in a searing kiss. His first instinct was to push you away, but his desire got the better of him. His eyes slipped close, and he kissed you back passionately.

Bucky's thoughts were in a haze as both your lips danced with each other. It didn't take long for him to invade the warmth of your mouth, fingers tangling themselves into your hair, while your hands curled around the front of his shirt, trapped between your heated bodies.

"Why," He moaned before pulling away.

Your ragged breaths filled the room; you looked at him with glistening eyes. "I don't care anymore, Bucky. I don't want to lose you. I don't want to be replaced by Sam or Sharon or anyone else." A tear escaped your eye, and it cascaded down your cheek.

Bucky leaned down and kissed it away, the salty taste lingering in his tongue.

"I want you back, Bucky."

Bucky felt a painful tug on his heart at the sight. He loves you, but he was also the one making you cry. He cannot bear the thought of hurting you. He caressed your cheek and gazed at you lovingly, longingly.

"You're making this hard for me, y/n. For the both of us."

You shook your head once more and pulled his face close to yours. "I don't care anymore, James Barnes. Love me any way you want, just don't… don't leave me again."

Bucky froze at your words. He pulled away then grasped both your shoulders. "Y/n, you don't know what you're saying."

"I do. I'm not a child anymore. I want how we used to be; if accepting your love could get things back to the way it was, I accept it.

Bucky shook his head. "No,…no y/n, nothing will ever be the same if you let me love you the way I want to."

Your face visibly fell at his words. Feeling hopeless, you asked. "Why?"

"Why?" Bucky asked back softly. "Because unlike then, I'll kiss you more like this…" He started and gave you a sensual kiss on the lips. "I'll hold your hand like this…" His hand went to yours, and he intertwined your fingers.

"We used to do that when we were kids."

Bucky just hummed in response. "And I'll pull you close to me like this…" He continued and did just as he said. He pulled you against his heated body and inhaled your scent. "And you'll always ignite that burning feeling inside me, y/n. So, unless you get used to these things, I will not let you do this."

"But we used to do some of those."

"It's going to be a lot different now."

"I don't care. I'm used to it. In fact, I miss it. Don't ever leave me again, Bucky, please. I love you so much."

Bucky's eyes widened in surprise. He could feel the rapid beating of your heart against his. He pulled you in once more for a passionate kiss.

"I love you too, y/n. You don't know how much you make me happy."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky #james buchanan barnes #au bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic

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tatertotthethot · 4 years

Text

The Doms Next Door 2.0

THIS IS A TEMPORARY REUPLOAD FOR THIS CHAPTER CUZ TUMBLR IS RAN BY A BUNCH OF BOTS. 2.1 HERE

Warnings/AN: frequent, casually cursing; comical, gay Jimin; insecure reader; steamy flirting; tattoo/sexualized Tae 🙃. Enjoy~ (TAEKOOK EDIT ABOVE IS ARTKOOK DONE BY NONCONMAN ON INSTAGRAM)

_________________________________

Your tires came to a stop outside of the tattoo shop you've seen online— a brick building, covered in spray paint and street-style art. A sign buzzed over the awning of the entrance doors, with the built-in UV lights and graffiti-styled font displaying the name of the place in neon-red letters. Kink For Ink! The name alone was what first caught your attention last week, when you Googled "Tattoo shops near me" and it pulled up a list, with "Kink For Ink" being the first option. It just seemed so uncanny and fitting at the time, considering the previous run-in you just had with the sex-crazed neighbors a couple nights before. You couldn't help but to click the link to their Instagram.

A profile came up with 53.4k followers, which immediately blew your mind... but you quickly saw why. Every tattoo and piercing, no matter the body-placement, skin-type, or quirky design, was vividly appealing— certainly done by the articulate hands of certified experts. Even in the comments of the piercings that were posted, people were praising them for the "minimal" amount of pain they experienced, despite the fact that some of piercings were done in places you couldn't even fathom the thought of having a needle jammed through.

It said in the bio that the shop is owned by the two artists that work there— Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook. You couldn't find out much about them, all their pictures showed was their work. You even went back to search for a personal account of their own, but nothing came up. You then went back to the bio and clicked a link to the official website, hoping to find out something, but you were met with a disclaimer rule at the top that automatically deemed your chances of even getting your piece done by them, slim-to-none.

• No walk-ins allowed.

• Every request/idea must be sent in through the DMs of our Instagram page. You will only be accepted only if it spikes our personal interests.

Yikes; You were instantly discouraged by this. The piece you wanted was something so common and cliché, that you actually got the image out of a child's coloring book.... It was the cartoon layout of the glass vase and enchanted rose, from the Beauty and the Beast movie. Cheesy, yes. But it was something of personal, nostalgic value. You remember when you were little— roughly around 3 or 4 years of age— when your parents started fighting and would spend all day screaming and throwing things at each other, putting you in a constant state of anxiety. But then you'd go to bed at night and pop the VHS tape, and the movie never failed to put you in a peaceful state of mind— a hopeful one. It's remained as your all-time favorite love story throughout the years. Which, is ironic, considering that the relationship itself was different, but almost as dysfunctional as your parent's. However, the fact that even the Beast was capable of change, and everything wound up so perfect and happy in the end, makes your heart happy. And even now, at age 19, it still puts you in your feelings. The previous remake of a movie is what actually inspired you to get the enchanted rose as a tattoo, after seeing it in 3D not too long ago. But you're only willing to shell out up to $200 for it, at most. You've just started college, and even though Jimin's parents own the house and let the two of you live there, rent free, you're still responsible for half the utility bills from month to month. Blowing every bit of money you have saved up, right at the start of the semester, would just be irresponsible. But $200 was manageable, and you're looking for anything that'll give you a little extra "oomph" to break you out of this introverted shell you've always known. Pushing it off would just delay it, and you were ready for change. The nose piercing you want is just a small little thing that'll hopefully add a bit of flare to the features of your face. These two guys could probably do the piercing/tattoo with a blindfold on and a hand tied behind their back. So, if it meant that you'd be able to get these things done in confidence, without having to worry about the outcome, you figured it wouldn't hurt for you to at least ask, even if they straight-up ignore you. So, after spending an unnecessary amount of time overthinking the wording of your text, you finally constructed a message in your notes and DM'd it to business page, after sending them a small, simple outline of the cartoony rose, and pressed send.

• You: Hello! I've been wanting to get this tattoo done for a very while now, and was hoping one of you will be willing to do it for me... along with piercing my nose? I know it's a very mediocre and cliché piece, and a nose piercing can be done anywhere. But I'm new to the area and I've never gotten a tattoo/piercing done before and I haven't really checked out any other places either because I found this page first. And from what I can see, you guys are pretty efficient and CRAZY talented. So, I trust it'll get done right.... only if you want to! I'm willing to pay $200 for this, but if it costs that much for just the outline I've sent then that's fine as well. But I understand if neither of you want to do it cuz that is really cheap compared to the ones I've seen lol. But either way, thx for ur time 😁

A few minutes went by and you had just unlocked your phone to check the message again, when the word "seen" popped below the message. You held your breath for a second— but seconds turned to minutes, and time went by with no reply, what-so-ever. You figured maybe you sounded a little too immature to take seriously; kind of like a prepubescent 12-year-old asking someone out for a dance... and you blew it. Which was disappointing, but predictable. So fuck it. Maybe it's a sign; you shouldn't get it after all.

11pm rolled around, many hours later. You were now hiding beneath your covers, beginning your "amateur threesome" exploration on PornHub. You were ready to see what this whole "2 guys, 1 girl" thing was all about. But just when you were about to type it into the search bar, you were interrupted by an Instagram notification dropping down from the top of your screen.

"KinkForInk sent you a message."

You audibly gasped, eyes turning to saucers as you clicked on the notif and switched over to the Instagram app.

• KinkForInk: Hi (Y/N). This is Tae, one of the artists of the shop. The tattoo you sent in is worth roughly $100... but I want to run an offer by you in hopes that you'll be interested.

— Your brows scrunched in oddity, stomach fluttering. An offer? For you?

• You: Okay, sure. What's that?

• KinkForInk: I've been looking for someone willing to showcase the custom design I've come up with, specifically for a much more... exclusive version of the Beauty and the Beast tattoo you sent. And if you'd be down for letting me and my partner put it on you, it'll be free. No charge. BUT you'll also have to sign a contract saying that you'll do a little bit of modeling for us once it's done. You think you'd be in to doing something like that, even if you get it?

— Your head spun for a second, reading the message over and over again until you could fully wrap your mind around what he was saying.

• You: Hold on... YOU wanna put a tattoo on ME so that I model for you? And it's FREE? Are you sure about this? I'm not even model material lol.

• KinkForInk: Yes, yes, and yes, you are. You'd be perfect for this.

• You: How do know that? Is it a face tattoo? Cuz I only have 6 selfies on here and you can't see anything past my shoulders.

—"Seen" came up as soon as you hit send, but a couple of minutes rolled by with no reply to the message, nor was he even typing. Maybe you came off a little rude. But it was already sketchy and it was a logical question.

— An image suddenly popped up: a screenshot of your Facebook profile. Then another— and much to your horror, it was the photo Jimin tagged you in last week, when the two of you were swimming at a local community pool. You were wearing a simple two piece, sitting at the foot of the lawn chair Jimin was also sitting in, as his legs were visible on either side of you and his lap was practically framing your ass. The photo was at an upward angle and looked so scandalous— but really, you had just asked Jimin to put sun screen on your back and he didn't want to stand up because the pavement was too hot against his bare feet. But you actually liked the picture at the time; it was just a silly joke and your ass actually looked quite nice from that angle. Plus, everyone knows nothing sexual actually goes on between the two of you, for obvious reasons. But Taehyung doesn't, so you couldn't help but dreadfully cringe when you saw the caption of the screen shot.

"Babymama 💦🍆"

• KinkForInk: Is this you??

• You: Yes, that's me. The caption is a joke tho... pay no mind to that. But this is like, really happening? You really think it'd look good on me?

— Why that picture though? You couldn't help but wonder.

• KinkForInk: Yes. Like I said, you're perfect for this piece. Are you down to at least see what the tattoo will look like? We don't expect you to be experienced with modeling or anything, but if you listen to us and cooperate, you'll do just fine.

• You: Yes I wanna see, and I'll do the best I can if I decide to get it... I'm just a bit shy, is all.

• KinkForInk: You'll be in good hands. I promise.

• You: Okay... are you going to show me??

• KinkForInk: Can't send it over a message, I don't want it plagiarized or the concept stolen. But the piece itself isn't necessarily crazy or anything, just more creative. I'd be more than happy to show you at my shop some day this week, if you'd be willing to swing by.

• You: Yeah, I can do that. When should I come?

• KinkForInk: Are you available after 5 tomorrow?

• You: I am, I get off at 4:30.

• KinkForInk: Great. Be here by 5:30, and make sure you've eaten in case you like the piece and wanna get started. It's pretty big for a first timer and gonna take a lot of time and patience. It'll have to be done in sessions but I hope you have a fair enough pain tolerance to at least get the outline of it done first.

— It can't be any worse than a bikini wax, you thought, shivering at the memory. That a story for another time. You decided on an alternative scenario.

• You: I give blood from time to time... but that's easy and doesn't really hurt that much. I think I can handle it though... maybe. I honestly don't know lol, I'm sorry 😣. But I can try my best. Can I ask where it's supposed to go?

• KinkForInk: That's okay, I'll work with you. It's supposed to go down the middle of your back. Starts between the center of your shoulder blades, and trails down the length of your spine to your lower lumbar. You'll see how it looks once we transfer a template on your back. But if you don't like it, there will be no hard feelings from my end. I can still do the tattoo you want if that's the case, free of charge just for your time.

• You: Oh no, you don't have to do that! I'd still pay!

• KinkForInk: Not if I don't accept your money. Trust me, I'm not worried about it. The nose piercing is gonna be $30 regardless, though. JK isn't so lenient.

• You: Of course. Will I have to take my shirt and bra off for the tattoo?

• KinkForInk: Yes, and for the pictures once it's done.

— Your mind blanked at that; thumbs froze over the keypad. He was typing again.

• KinkForInk: Don't let that discourage you. Again, you're in good hands. You can bring something to cover your chest. And the pics will be if your back as well.

• You: Okay, I can handle that. So 5:30 tomorrow?

• KinkForInk: Yes, please don't flake on us!

• You: Lol, I won't. I'll be there.

"They're gonna knock us the fuck out and sell our organs to the black market," Jimin declared. He had parked next to you outside of the shop, and was now sitting in the driver seat of his car with his door locked and windows all the way up, refusing to get out. You were standing right outside his door, still having to talk on the phone. "And is this Tae-guy an AllState representative or something?"

Jimin is petty. You wanted him here for moral support— which he's usually reliable for— but this time, he's just plain salty right and doing everything he can to remind you of that. Reason is, he's been begging you to get a matching tattoo with him ever since your 18th birthday, and you've always refused because of what he wanted to get.

Cupcakes. Jimin wanted to get matching cupcake tattoos... in honor of Cupcakke the legend. Sorry, but H E L L no.

You rolled your eyes, growing frustrated. He only has enough time to pop in and confirm that these two aren't gonna kill you, and then he's gotta head home to get ready for work. You were already supposed to be in there. It was 5:33pm, 3 minutes past the time.

"Jimin, you're the one that insisted on coming along! And now you're making me late!" you ranted. "I'm going in without you."

"Hold your horses, hoe! I'm finishing my blueberry slushie," He retorted, sassily bringing the straw to his mouth and loudly slurping it into the phone. He then abruptly flinched away from the straw with a disgusted expression, nostrils flared, body locking up; lips drawing into an air-tight knot that was so extreme and unnatural, it caused an ugly snort to break out of your nose.

He smacked his lips in exaggeration to the taste, face falling back into stone as an eyebrow arched over the top of his aviators; unamused and saltier than before... Like you were at fault for that, too.

"Or... Blueberry-ass, I should say."

That forced another giggle out of you as Jimin stiffly rolled his window down, phone still pressed to his ear and eyes still scowling at you behind the inspector shades. He bit down on the straw and withdrew it with his teeth before dumping the dark-blue contents of the drink out of the window, making it a point to shake the styrofoam cup empty of every drop before tossing it over his shoulder and into back seat. He then spat the straw out of his mouth with an audible "PLUUUUH!" of a French accent, and waited until the window rolled all the way up again, just so he could hang up the phone. You scoffed at this as you shoved your phone back into your pocket, scornfully watching Jimin exit the car and slam the door behind him. He snatched his glasses off his face as his cotton-candy hair swayed in the breeze, revealing his scornful eyes right back at you as he gestured for you to lead the way in exasperated manner— as if you were the one wasting his time now.

"Go on, lead us to the grave," He shooed, a snippy little shit. You sauntered away, walking up the side of the shop, then paused just before reaching the glass entrance door, when you remembered how much of a coward you are. You've never even stepped into a parlor before, and supposedly, this was a famous one. Which makes it more and more surreal when you think about it.

"Are we doing the mannequin challenge now? Is that what we're doing?" Jimin sardonically inquired.

"You go first, I'm nervous!" You whisper-hissed.

"You don't want me to go in there first— I'll show out," he reasoned, simply stating a fact.

"Please don't," you whined.

"Then, again, I'll show out?" He reiterated, as if to say duh. "How else am I supposed to break the ice? I look like Timmy Turner's Fairy-Gay- Parent."

You gave him a wary look... he's right. You sighed, slightly kicking your foot in distracted defeat. Fuck, you hated making an entrance to new places—

"Hold up— is that Drake?" Jimin suddenly blurted, holding his hand up to silence you. You honed in on the muffled track playing from behind the glass door, and Jimin's face soon light up like a Christmas tree before he spun around you, unstoppable.

"Jimin, NO—!"

"KIKI, DO YOU LOVE ME—?!"

It was already too late. The door was flying back behind him as he Milly-Rocked his way into the shop, leaving you no choice but the chase in behind him.

"—ARE YOU RIDING? SAY YOU'LL NEVA-EVA LEAVE FROM BESIDE ME— hello there."

You were panting, coming to a stop right behind Jimin, where you instantly latched on to the back of his shirt as you met the face of the man behind the studio counter. And, as corny as this is gonna sound: the world actually stilled for a solid beat... or maybe you were in the verge of cardiac arrest.

A pair of glossy-Black eyes looked up at the two of you; A series of silver-studded earrings trailed along the outer cartilages, peaking out beneath a head of soft, layer-swept hair. It was a Carmel-tinted blonde in color— thick and shaggy, and neatly spilling in waves around a headband that proudly sported a high-dollar brand-name you've never seen anyone wear in person before. G U C C I, it read— Meaning that the headband alone was probably worth more than some of your college text books, put together. It sat just a few inches above a pair of dark brows, that oddly brought out the shape of his cat-like eyes— irises like polished marbles. His ample lips had a sharp, well-defined Cupid's-bow, and a natural shade of pink that fit the porcelain appearance of his melanin-kissed complexion, to the finest degree.

And here you are, looking like an actual bum. You had just enough time to clock out of work and head straight over here to make it in time. You didn't even have any makeup on, and the only thing hiding your raggedy hair from those captivating eyes is your old baseball cap from high school. It took a second for him to take the bold presence that was Park Jimin— who was also frozen to the spot as he openly checked the guy out. He was hunched over the counter, a v-neck hoodie covering the rest of him with a thin, loose-fitting material. It was Black and allowed a full visual of his tan neck, and prominent collar bones. And it certainly didn't hide the fact that he had a pair of wide-set shoulders, either. A pencil sat in his hand— one that was laced with masculine veins, and lot of decorative ink. There was a silver ring on his thumb.. and a very heavy-looking Rolex watch.

The man cracked a grin at Jimin— a boxy one that dimpled in at the corners.

"Love the hair," he humorously began, twisting a quirky eyebrow at Jimin. You subconsciously snagged the bill of your hat as your eyes went a little wide at how mature the man's voice was.

"Love the watch," Jimin retorted, then reached around and gripped you by the wrist before pulling you into full view beside him. "You wouldn't happen to be Taehyung...?"

"Mhm," the man hummed, absentmindedly moving his wrist at the mention of his watch. His eyes cut over to you, and you swore you could see a minuscule reflection of yourself in his eyes, before they flashed back at Jimin and blinked. "You must be the babydaddy?"

Blood rushes to your ears. It's really him... a guy who looks like a high-dollar model himself, asking you to be his canvas model. Your own conscious didn't even know what to say right now. So you stayed quiet and still as Jimin took charge... which was a mistake.

"She wishes, but no. I'm the best-friend— and a gay one, at that," Jimin replied, and you knew he did that for his benefit. Thot. "I'm just here to make sure you're not gonna sacrifice her to Satan, or anything of that nature. I need her around in case I ever forget the Netflix password."

Taehyung chuckled at that, mouth opening to reveal a row of teeth shinier than Chip Skylark's. But then, you caught something behind his teeth that caused your gut to leap. A silver ball... a tongue ring. Your thoughts clouded over for a second.

"Well, I can assure you, she's safe with me," he said, looking over at you again. You blinked, nothing more. His brow arched at your lack of response, but this time, it was done more handsomely as he was still smirking at you. "Still, you don't look too thrilled to be here... You sure you wanna do this?"

"She's just nervous because you're really fucking hot," Jimin announced, unyielding. "You should feel how sweaty her hand is."

"Don't listen to him— I'm gay too," You lied in panic, trying to defend yourself from the absolute truth Jimin spoke just then. You snatched your hand away from him and jutted a finger at the door, eyes beading and lid twitching as your nerves ran amuck. "Goodbye, Jimin."

"She's a lonesome hetero," Jimin told Taehyung, assuring him with a face that showed no bluff. "One look at her camera roll, and you'd see for yourself—" You were yanking him away by the arm now, in a tug-of-war game that Jimin obviously could've won if he really wanted to. But he figured you suffered enough and eventually let you drag him out of the shop, waving bye to Taehyung before turning to look at you with beading eyes.

"I think he wants to fuck you— text me as soon as you can," Jimin uttered with unmoving lips as before he walked to his car. You stopped for a second, noticing he was actually being serious. How could he possibly think that he wants to fuck you, just from that small encounter? And what is the odd sensation currently coiling in your stomach? Things grew awkward again when you re-entered the shop, coming to a stand at the same spot... only alone now. He was still amused, it seemed. And so calm and cool despite this odd, intense look in his eyes. It gave him a Casanova effect, where all he had to do was give you that look and it'd instantly make you blush.

"He seems like a fun person to be around," he noted, somewhat honestly, but more so making fun of the red-hot appearance of your face.

"He's a pain in the ass," you muttered, trying to conjure up a smirk but hardly even able to speak properly from how dry your mouth was. It felt like there was a white-hot iron expanding in your throat. "I'm really sorry about him."

"Don't be. I'm just glad you're here— thought you'd chicken out." You nervously wiped your clammy palms over the back pockets of your jeans as Taehyung got up from the barstool behind the counter and approached you on the other side of it, a whole head-and-a-half taller than you. He was wearing black cardigan jeans and matching combat boots.. his headband and jewelry the only thing not black on him. And oddly enough, he made it look fucking fantastic.

"Mh-mm," You hummed, not trusting your voice. You've never needed a sip of water so bad in your life— he even smelled expensive.

"Well, It's very nice to meet you," he formerly began, and you mustered up the normality of placing your (dried) hand into his much larger one, as he held his out to you in greeting. And boy, was he close. So close that the heels of your spine itches to lean back from the proximity.

"It's nice to meet you, too. I'm really sorry if I'm acting weird. I'm just nervous." — Your mind struggled to stay focused on your words, arm tensing at the skin-to-skin contact. You were extra-effected by the firmness in his grip. You really wanted to look down at all the bold ink you saw dashing across the veiny surface of his tanned hand, or see if those were images or scripted letters on the knuckles of lengthy fingers... But you were held captive by those God-blessed eyes... And that fucking tongue ring. It was infecting your head in ways that weren't necessarily healthy for your current state of mind, as you saw it peering in and out at certain words.

"And physically shaking," Taehyung pointed out, brows twitching down at your trembling hand in his as if he was concerned for it. But his smirk gave off an odd sense of fascination to the involuntary symptom, like it was cute or something? Hm. He glanced back up at you, causing your dehydrated throat to bob as his other hand came to clasp over the rest of yours, swallowing it completely from the wrist down. "Intimidated?"

"V-Very," you spluttered, a small slither of saliva copulating down your throat as you looked back up at him. He absentmindedly rolled his tongue ring over the button row of his teeth as he watched you with tainted eyes— undoubtably getting cocky with that damn grin of his and proudly teasing you about your reaction to him. It gratified the effortless sex-appeal he had. You were even beginning to imagine that tongue ring elsewhere, and you literally just met him. Then, as you felt the band of a ring move along with the pad of his thumb as gently ran it across your trembly knuckles, chills shot up all the way to your shoulder. Oh... oh wow. You glanced down at his knuckles on reflex this time, and saw a four-letter word scripted in black ink across the bottom row of his knuckles, and another word scripted on the middle section of his fingers. A silver band on his naked thumb. STAY TRUE, it said.

"And why's that?"

"I.. feel like you're a celebrity," you sheepishly admitted, your other hand wedging into your back pocket as you had to stop yourself from reaching for the bill of your hat again. Is he flirting? The words seem too innocent for the way he was making you feel. It was getting so hot in the oven of his massive palms, and he wasn't even squeezing you hard enough to cut off any circulation, but yet your fingers were beginning to tingle.

"Mm, no. Just a little popular, really," he granted, teetering his head a little as he pondered the thought. You could see his vocal chords contract in his sleek neck as they project his smooth, pungent voice. "You still trust me?"

"Mhm," was all you could muster. He'd gotten even closer, to where his hand had gone into a prayer stance around yours. You were aware of how wide your eyes had gone from the awe you... you knew this was just the beginning. He was going to be very handsy throughout this whole process. But in a very twisted way, you were more than okay with that. Even if it meant you were at risk of fainting from actual dehydration. Maybe you were in over your head. But you couldn't will yourself away from this now. And then, just as a wide, heart-stopping smile edged out on that mind-numbingly handsome face, the door at that back of the room swung open, and heavy-metal rock blasted through the quiet vibe of the scenery and caused you to jump a little at the disturbance. Taehyung shot a wicked smile over his shoulder, and his next words nearly knocked you out right then and there as you beheld yet another, breathtaking sight.

"Oh, there you are," Tae eagerly acknowledged, one hand still holding yours as he walked around to grab your with the other, presenting you to the.. hulking presence in the room. "This is (Y/N), our next little experiment."

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monstersandmaw · 4 years

Text

Male werewolf x female reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This is a patreon tier reward, and I hope you enjoy my take on their big, dad-bodded werewolf OC, Lowe. It's been up on Patreon on early release and is now up on Tumblr for you to enjoy.

Content: playful banter, fluff, the briefest flicker of angst, some dominant tendencies in Lowe (it's not D/s though, for anyone who's not into that), and a reader who gives as good as she gets. Wordcount: 2792

___

As you yanked the door to the campus cafe open with about twice as much force as it needed, you caught a glimpse of Lowe working behind the counter. Of course, there was a massive queue at this time of day; at the midpoint of the afternoon when people were thinking about either finishing up early or knuckling down for a caffeine-fuelled all-nighter.

Engrossed as he’d looked in his work before, he glanced up as if he’d sensed your presence, his warm eyes flicked briefly in your direction as the door opened, and he offered you a quick, fond, twitch of the lips before turning back to the masterpiece of latte art in his hands. Even at that distance, you felt your body relaxing a little more around him. In the time since he’d made some playfully snarky comment about your Pokémon shirt a few months ago - which had, in fact, led to a joint outing on campus playing Pokémon Go together - you and he had fallen into an easy friendship.

You tried not to snarl softly to yourself as the woman at the front of the queue, old enough to be a post-grad perhaps, leaned on the counter and flirted openly with him, but at the end of the day, what claim did you have to him anyway? Lowe was your friend, and as much as you’d like to think you might be the tall, long-haired guy’s type (he was certainly yours, with that ‘powerful-yet-soft-around-the-edges’ dad bod he had going on, and that self-assured confidence that tipped just pleasantly shy of being arrogance), you couldn’t really be sure. After all, you’d seen him getting pretty close with a guy friend of his, so for all you knew, he wasn’t even interested in women, but you’d never really discussed that. The most personal things had got so far was Bloodborne bosses and beloved DnD characters, which was also fine.

The queue slowly dwindled in front of you, and when you stepped up to the counter, Lowe turned from the machine on the far counter and plonked a large cup down before your lips had even opened to begin your order. His grin was positively wolfish, all teeth and glinting eyes.

You pouted and snapped, “And what if I wanted a chai latte with soy milk today?”

He raised one thick eyebrow as he popped the takeaway lid onto the cup with a distractingly big hand, and said flatly, “You hate soy milk. Drink up, grumpy-guts. You’ll feel better…”

You huffed, took the cup off the counter, slapped the cash down just hard enough to make him chuckle and twitch another smile - damn the bastard looked pleased with himself and double-damn, if he didn’t look extra-specially good wearing that expression - and he announced to his colleague that he was going on break.

He joined you outside, tugging out one of the heavy, metal chairs for you without a word before taking a seat on the other side of the table.

Lowe closed his eyes, tipping his head back a little to feel the chilly late-spring breeze on his face. He looked good as he relaxed like that, with his long, thick, nut-brown hair tied back off his face with a few fluffy bits escaping at the front, and his big arms folded across his chest and resting on the slight paunch he had at the waist. Something about the thick, almost russet-brown scruff on his jaw made you want to touch it. Instead, you sipped your drink and sighed.

“Good?” he asked without moving or opening his eyes.

“You know it is, you cocky little shit,” you laughed. Banter with him was always so easy, and you gave as good as you got. “Thanks, by the way. Wouldn’t want you to think I’m a complete brat…”

He snorted and cracked an eye to look at you. The sun caught in his golden-brown iris and glinted softly like polished amber, and it honestly stole your breath for a moment. “How’s the course going?” he asked instead of teasing you any more. “You were pretty stressed about that assignment last time we talked.”

You rolled your eyes and puffed the air out of your chest, swiftly following it with some inarticulate grunt of despair. “It would be going a lot better if my roommate wasn’t also being such an inconsiderate asshole,” you snarled. “Seriously, I don’t think I can take the smell of weed or the late nights any more.”

He frowned. “Can’t you talk to someone about it?”

“Have done. Not sure I’ll have a roommate for much longer though… Missing classes and being constantly stoned must equal tanking grades, right?”

Lowe nodded but didn’t say anything for a while, watching as a gnoll and her girlfriend strolled past, hand in hand. The gnoll nuzzled her nose against the human’s ear and elicited a squawk that made her giggle in return. Eventually he said, “You free this weekend?”

Cocking your head to one side, you shrugged. “Hand-in is on Friday afternoon, so… yeah? I mean, I had just planned to sleep all day… why?”

He looked uncharacteristically apprehensive and chewed on the inside of his cheek before answering. “I was going to head up into the woods for the weekend. Camping. Wondered if you wanted to come too?”

“Camping?”

“Yeah…” he said, looking like he was regretting mentioning it now. “But if you don’t want to, it’s fine. I mean… you’ve earned your rest, and camping under the stars isn’t for everyone. Don’t feel like you have -”

“Shut up for a second, will you?” you laughed, and he drew up short and blinked, staring at you before laughing fondly. “I’ve actually never been camping. I’d love to go, as long as you don’t make me go for a ten mile hike as well…”

“Would I treat you like that?” he crooned and you rolled your eyes again and muttered something which you didn’t think he’d catch. Somehow, however, he did, and he barked a loud laugh, startling a cervitaur walking past with his grocery shopping in each hand. As Lowe turned to look at the cervitaur he’d surprised, you watched his eyes flare gold, almost unnaturally so. Perhaps it was just a trick of the sunlight at this angle. When he looked back at you, you missed what he said, staring at his eyes, which were now back to their normal, warm brown.

He murmured your name, sounding a little concerned. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean it. You’re not a brat… not really…”

“Shut up,” you retorted, your tone carrying no venom. “And you know full well know I can be.”

That Thursday afternoon, your roommate moved out, finally expelled for drug use and selling to other students, and you fumigated the room as best you could, relieved at last. The second after you’d finished deep-cleaning everything, you texted Lowe and said, ‘So… I’m down a roommate now.’

‘You need me to help hide the body?’ he sent back immediately and you burst out laughing.

‘I love you, but no. It was expulsion rather than murder. I was kind of hoping you might want to move in instead?’ you sent, your heart in your mouth. He’d mentioned he was looking for a place closer to campus, and this could be perfect for him. If he was willing to have you as his roommate, of course.

‘Definitely interested. Can I think about it and let you know this weekend?’

That wasn’t a complete rebuttal, you figured. ‘Of course.’

‘Cheers. I’ll pick you up at ten on Saturday.’

True to his word, Lowe didn’t take you on a ten mile route march. He drove you up to the start of a wide, easy looking trail that was apparently only three miles up to the campsite, along a winding, inviting, grassy path. Despite looking maybe a little towards the less fit end of the scale, Lowe was four strides ahead of you in a matter of seconds. Realising this, he slowed, and you nudged him with your elbow.

“Thanks,” you said and he gave you one of his soft, secret smiles that you didn’t see very often.

He wasn’t particularly talkative as you made your way up the path, but the silence between you was easy, relaxing even.

“You’re such a cliche, you know that?” you laughed a little while later as you paused on a rock for a drink and to adjust the laces of your shoe.

Lowe scowled. “How?”

You stared pointedly at the penknife in his hand and the stick he’d picked up and had idly begun to whittle into a howling wolf in his big, strong hands, almost as if he’d not even realised he was doing it. Again, he surprised you by just shrugging a shoulder and turning back to it while you enjoyed the scene. He seemed a bit distracted somehow. When you moved on, he stashed it in his pocket.

Lowe carried literally everything, stowing your water bottle for the way up in the side pocket of his backpack, and even a two-person tent, food supplies for that evening and breakfast, and more water than you probably drank over the course of three days, and yet he still managed to arrive at the campsite as if he’d just strolled the length of one city block.

He impressed you again by lighting a fire and cooking a veritable feast for you both on a little makeshift grill, and he looked more than pleased with himself when you complimented him. “Don’t let it go to your big fat head,” you snickered and he growled playfully at you.

Quite literally growled.

The moment he’d done it, he went still, eyes wide, and even looked a little sick. “Shit,” he hissed.

“What?”

“I…” then his huge shoulders slumped despondently and he let out a long breath. “I guess now’s as good a time as any to tell you. I mean, I’ve been meaning to tell you for… well, since we kind of became friends, really. But it never seemed… convenient…”

“Convenient to tell me what?”

He shuffled a bit and poked at the embers of the fire. Your stomach felt uneasy, and it had nothing to do with the inordinate amount of amazing food you’d just finished. “I…” he began, and then whispered, “Fuck it.” He looked you in the eye and said, “I’m not human. I’m a werewolf.”

You blinked. It didn’t totally surprise you, if you were honest. “Well, that… certainly makes one or two things add up…”

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?”

He turned his golden eyes away from you and poked a bit more at the smoldering, grey wood, making it crumble to fragile ashes. He did look a bit easier now though. “I figured… maybe you wouldn’t… that if you knew that I’m not human, you might not want me as your roommate anymore… It was stupid though, I know.”

“Lowe,” you said, more gently this time, reaching for his bare forearm where he’d cuffed his tartan sleeve up to his elbow. His skin was warm and his muscles tensed, hard as the earth beneath you as he waited for whatever you were going to say next. “You’ve become probably my best friend… There’s no one I’d rather be roommates with than you. Besides, who else is going to tolerate your Soulsborne marathons and hipster lumberjack wardrobe?”

A long, low growl emanated from him but it dissolved into laughter when he saw your expression and he shook his head. “I can’t believe I was so chicken about you knowing…”

“I can’t believe you looked like you pissed yourself a minute ago!”

His eyes flashed openly gold now and he huffed, “I did not…”

“You totally did. Anyway, I’m glad you told me. But you know that means I’m going to want to know all the details.”

“I think I’ll save that for another day,” he said as he reached for the s’mores beside him.

‘Another’ day turned out to be a week after you’d helped him move all his boxes into your room. He was lying on his back on his bed, his arms folded up behind his head, one knee bent, the other leg stretched out, foot dangling off the end of the mattress. You glanced across the room at him from where you had your laptop on your knees and your headphones on, working on the last tweaks of the next assignment due. He looked tense, even though he wasn’t really doing anything in particular.

Removing your headphones, you murmured, “Lowe? Everything alright?”

“Mmm,” he half growled. A moment later he heaved out a huge sigh and said, “No. Full moon’s tomorrow night. I always get kind of… cranky around now.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Whatever you’d thought he’d say, you hadn’t expected the long, low moan that escaped him. It was not an innocent noise. Breathing through his mouth in soft, quiet pants, he didn’t look at you, but you sensed that his eyes were glowing.

“Lowe?”

“No,” he said. “Not unless you want to take whatever this is between us somewhere else…”

You bit your lip. “You mean…?”

“It would probably take the edge off if we slept together, yes,” he said bluntly. “But if you don’t want that, then I’m hardly going to push…”

“I like it when you’re pushy,” you countered, setting your laptop aside and staring him in the eye.

His pupils blew wide and he raised his nose. “Fuck,” he cursed. “Oh… fuck, you’re beautiful.”

With a smile, you crossed the room to him as he sat up, watching your every move with unwavering, lupine focus. “Let me help you out, big guy,” you crooned playfully and he twitched his lip in a possessive snarl, eyes golden and locked on the curve of your neck.

“Last chance,” he said. “I don’t want you regretting crossing this line with me.”

“You’ve got super-human senses, Lowe,” you said, playing with the hem of your shirt. His gaze darted instantly to the movement, transfixed by the glimpse of skin beneath your top. “You must know how I feel about you by now…”

“Yes, but lusting after someone and doing something about it is different when they’re your friend… I don’t want you to feel like I’m putting pressure on you…”

In answer, you reached out and trailed your fingertips up his neck, scratching him a little bit and making him growl again, and as you finished with a single finger drawing a line up his throat and under his chin, he shivered, as if barely holding himself back. “Why don’t you put just the right amount pressure on me… here?” you said, licking your lips as you climbed into his lap, straddling his thick thighs and running your palms over the softness of his stomach.

His jaw was soft, mouth open as he panted openly, and beneath you as you ground your hips to emphasise your question, you felt his hard cock.

A heartbeat later, he’d clamped his hands under your thighs and stood up. Lowe dropped you onto the bed with the perfect mix of recklessness and carefulness and lunged for you. He peppered and mouthed kisses down your neck, tugging at your skin with his canines, biting at your earlobe, his short beard burning and scratching your skin deliciously, and all the while he ground his cock against your thigh through his jeans.

It clearly wasn’t nearly enough, and it wasn’t long before you were both naked on his bed, and he had his mouth on you, his hands spreading your legs wide as he used the strength in his arms that his softer body belied. “Don’t come yet,” he rasped between strokes of his tongue. “Not til I say…”

“Oh,” you gasped, fighting the rising wave of heat that swept up your body, tingling under your skin, at that command. You tried, you really did, but in a mere few strokes of his tongue, you came with a cry against the heat of his mouth, bucking while he held you down and pulled you against his mouth to press his tongue tight against your throbbing clit.

When he pulled back, looking extremely smug about himself and his talents, you saw that his canines had lengthened and his features had become a little less… human.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he said, clearly still enjoying the taste of you on his lips.

“Will you hurry up and fuck me?” you pouted, and he snarled.

“Such a brat,” he laughed, but he didn’t waste any time either.

—

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#werewolf #male werewolf #werewolf x reader #exophilia #monster boyfriend #male werewolf x female reader

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Note

“i was going to ask that you go easy on me. i’m feeling kind of tender today.” For whomever you want!

Being alone is something that Bruce thought was the best option for him. He doesn’t really like being social or “on” all the time, and he’s fine with drinking tea in his room and working on homework. For fun, he’ll usually watch one of his “shows” on the weekends.

Being alone can oftentimes lead to being lonely, unfortunately. One of the drawbacks, and something that Bruce doesn’t like.

He thought he was pretty well-adjusted to college. He didn’t really need to make friends immediately. His mother had written to him from Aunt Becca’s house on new stationary that friends come along when you’re least expecting it.

And then he got to orientation and his leader said that “friends are something you need to pursue! Get out there and go make some! Join a club!”

Bruce had not done that.

He doesn’t want to say that he’s scared of people, but they...intimidate him. He was made fun of his whole elementary and most of his high school time, so it’s not like Bruce learned how to successfully navigate friendship.

So here he is in his dorm on a Wednesday night at 10:34, post-shower, and he realizes that he is all alone and he probably needs to change that.

But he’s not sure how. He’s not great at “event-crashing” and there’s no way that he’s just going to sit down and talk to somebody. He’s in it for the confusion, it seems.

A week later, there’s a knock on his door.

It’s one of the girls who lives on his floor, Nat or Natalie or something.

“I smelled coffee,” she says. “And I want to know if I can have some.”

“Um...sure? Do you want cream or sugar or anything?”

“Is the cream flavored?”

“Yeah, it’s the, uh, new fall flavor. I thought it could be good in coffee.”

Her eyes light up, and she walks straight into his room, not even noticing the notes pinned all over his cork-board and the sad laundry pile in the corner. She pours coffee neat as can be into her own mug, sits down on the desk chair, and looks at him.

“Are you going to have any?”

“Uh...yes?”

He pours some, and then gets the cream out. He passes it over to her, and she takes it gladly.

“None of us really see you anywhere,” she says. “Why is that?”

“I, um. I guess I don’t get out much,” Bruce mutters. “Can you...can you smell the coffee from my room?”

“Not from where I am, but Clint lives across the hall,” Nat says. “Room 816. He wanted coffee, but was too shy to ask if he could. We’ll provide coffee costs so long as we get it.”

“Um, sure,” Bruce says. “I always leave my room unlocked. I’m Bruce.”

“Nat, I live in 842. What are you majoring in?”

“Chemistry and biology,” Bruce answers easily. “A focus in genetics.”

“Whoa. Cool. I’m studying business and security.”

“What do you want to do with that, if you don’t mind me being the millionth person to ask that?”

Natasha smiles, and Bruce can tell that she’s more than most people think.

“My friend Tony and his boyfriend want to revamp his dad’s company, so they’re gonna need a bodyguard.”

“Cool,” Bruce says. “I want to help people and create cures.”

“Always honorable. You wanna come with us to the drive-in movie tonight?”

Bruce blinks. He’s not expecting an invitation to be thrust his way so...directly.

“Um, sure. You sure about that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well...we’ve never met before this.”

“We’ve done enough,” Natasha says easily, grabbing her mug and heading for the door. “We’re meeting in the lobby at eight, but we’re getting dinner at seven if you wanna come to that. Tony would really like to meet you, he’s been complaining about the lack of ‘smart’ people.”

“I’ll...I’ll see you, then.”

Right at six, Bruce is nervously tugging at the hem of his shirt, or wringing his hands.

He sees a guy who he thinks is Clint.

“Oh hey! You came!” he says with a grin. “Do you have any bandages?”

“Do you need one?”

“In the future? Yes. Currently? No,” he says, getting out his phone. “What do you think you’ll get for dinner?”

“Um, probably their lasagna or something. I know that the pizza tonight is barbecue chicken.”

Clint pulls a face.

“The worst one, bleh. Ooh, Thor’s on his way!”

Thor is...Thor. There’s literally no other word to describe the vibe of him.

He’s wearing a flannel, jeans, and he looks like he could be a nature guide at a national park.

Bruce is stunned. He’s never seen him around before.

“You met Thor yet?” Nat asks, lips curving into a smile.

“No,” Bruce says faintly. “I don’t think I have.”

And then in walks Tony and Jim (or Rhodey?), and his eyes light up.

“Bruce, my darling dearest. I heard that you are a smart man, and I am all about smart men. Let’s talk science.”

Bruce actually gets engaged in conversation, and he loves it, even when Steve says “could we have this in English, please?”

"Absolutely not,” Tony says. “Bruce and I are on the same wave length, so you will have to get used to us being annoying.”

“Sorry Steve,” Bruce says softly.

Steve grins.

“I’m just joking around, Bruce. Don’t worry about it. Wait until I start talking about art techniques.”

Dinner is good. Bruce gets to know more about everyone, and laughs out loud at most of Nat’s dry humor.

“Finally, someone with good taste,” she says. “You’re coming to the movie, right?”

“What’s playing?”

“One of my favorites,” Thor rumbles. “Ben-Hur.”

“We’re going to fall asleep,” Sam murmurs to Bruce. “Like, seriously. It’s boring.”

“The set design isn’t,” Bruce says softly. He saw the movie once with his cousin Jen and their grandpa. “It’s a beautifully made one.”

“Then you can sit next to Thor,” Tony decides. “Because otherwise he’ll spend the whole time trying to wake us up so that we don’t miss a part, or several.”

“It’s a good movie,” Thor says, although he seems to know that he’s lost the debate.

“We’ll have a good time regardless,” Clint says. “Especially since I’m planning on eating a whole tray of Oreos and passing out.”

“At least save some for me,” Sam says. “I don’t want a repeat of last time.”

“Your fault for making moon-eyes at Bucky,” Nat retorts.

“Oh, I did not.”

“You did,” Thor said simply. “But let’s get to the car before we lose our spot.”

There’s not exactly a spot to lose. The only other people are older couples and the occasional young teenage couple who has every intention of parking a bit further away and hoping to god everyone ignores them.

(And everyone will.)

Bruce comes to find that they weren’t joking about having him sit next to Thor; they point out that Thor is actually really excited to have someone to talk to.

“It’s true,” Thor says, grabbing a blanket out of the car to settle down over his chair.

Or at least, that’s what Bruce thought was going on.

What goes on is that Thor shares it.

“Weather’s supposed to go low tonight,” Thor says. “Can’t have you getting cold and me knowing I could’ve done something about it.”

Bruce will say, if anyone asks, that he was not blushing and they can’t prove it because it was dark outside.

He moves his chair closer.

After all, he doesn’t want to stretch the blanket farther than it can reach. And he wants to hear Thor better.

The orchestral music starts up and floats in between cars, and Thor looks at the screen, completely enraptured.

Nat gives Bruce a look, and he looks away.

“I brought soda, you want some?” Tony whispers.

Bruce jumps as he turns to face the genius, who is so unbelievably close.

“There’s Dr. Pepper and Pepsi but with cherry.”

“Cherry, please,” Thor rumbles. “Bruce, for you?”

“Um, I’m...I’m good.”

Movie night is...nice.

Bruce doesn’t really focus on the plot that much, not when Thor is whispering every so often about a favorite piece of music or what he liked about an actor’s choice.

He doesn’t mind it. Not at all. He notices the smallest things, and Thor passes him over a snack. It’s nice.

It’s nicer when they drive back and Thor tells him that he’s glad he came.

“I’ve seen you around, I just wasn’t sure how to get you to come with us,” Thor says. “You’re always in your room.”

“I tend to be a bit of a homebody,” Bruce says nervously, readjusting his glasses. “I, uh...I’m just not always accustomed to people.”

“That’s alright,” Thor says. “We’re having dinner again, we always have it at six. Feel free to come. Nat would like to see you again. You’ve been on her hit list.”

“Her what?”

“Friendship, don’t worry,” Clint says. “She has a certain list of people she wants to ‘hit’ as her friends. We’ve tried to get her to change the name about eight times.”

“It means serious business,” Nat scoffs. “Also Bruce, you have to come get coffee with me this weekend.”

Friendship is a confusing business, Bruce decides. He loves it, but it’s confusing. Mainly because he can’t believe that people actually want to hang out with him. He’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“You keep waiting for shoes to drop,but we never throw them up in the air,” Sam says. “Now come on and come with me to get Bucky from his stupid class and harass him into coming grocery shopping with us.”

Bruce laughs.

“Okay, but I need to make a list first. Otherwise I’m going to forget to get the tea for Tony.”

It becomes comfortable, and he...he enjoys it. He likes that they cook dinner (disastrously) for Halloween together, and they all dress up in as best a costume as they can manage.

He gets inside jokes with everyone, and he and Nat make a habit of having coffee in his dorm room most mornings before heading down for breakfast, and they all eat lunch together outside when the weather is nice.

He and Tony get along fantastically, and they both help each other bounce ideas off one another and come up with new ways to think about problems.

And then...there’s Thor.

Thor is his friend, one of his best ones. But there’s something that he’d like to be more there, and he’s never sure how to approach it. He’s not even sure if Thor wants to approach it.

They walk together and they nap together, and Bruce sometimes wonders if Thor looks at him as much as Bruce looks at him.

They go on errands together, and they’re usually always sitting together for movie nights.

Nat thinks Bruce is acting ridiculous.

“Quit being a little bitch and go ask him out,” she says over coffee. Steam curls around the mug, and Bruce looks away for a minute, pulling a face.

“Nat, he’s....he’s Thor. I can’t just ask someone like him out.”

“Why not?”

“Because I ramble about genetics and how much I appreciate certain scientists! How is that going to translate when we go on a date and I can’t figure out what to say?”

Natasha looks at him like he’s the biggest idiot in the galaxy.

“You’re the worst,” Natasha decides. “You guys already go on dates, basically. I mean, he doesn’t let anyone else come with you guys to go get ice cream on Saturday nights. You go grocery shopping with him and make those mug-brownies together.”

“That’s....”

“You don’t do that with anyone else, do you? I’m so sure that you don’t, otherwise I would have heard about it by now.”

Bruce shrugs, sighing and pouring himself his cup of coffee.

Natasha’s face softens, and she hops up onto the bed beside him.

“Look. I know you have this whole self-loathing thing going on, and god knows most of us on this floor do as well. But just because of that, it doesn’t mean you get to deny yourself happiness. If that was the case, I’d never bring home latkes.”

Bruce smiles softly.

“Thanks, Nat.”

“No problem. Also, we’re having family dinner inside to talk about an upcoming vacation, possibly.”

“Vacation?”

“We ditch class on Friday if we can help it, and we spend the weekend at a lake nearby. You wanna come?”

“Sure!”

Thor is currently enduring a pep talk from Bucky and Sam, who are both quite bad at pep talks.

“You can do this!” Sam says. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I can think about twenty different ways,” Bucky says. “But I won’t mention them.”

“Bucky, you are grievously bad at this,” Thor stresses.

“What are you, my English professor? What’s with the vocab?”

“Uses big words when he’s stressed,” Sam mutters. “Thor, you’ll be fine. It will go well.”

“Or it will leave me flummoxed.”

“Shut up.” Bucky groans. “You’re worse than Steve. You sound like a dying Victorian.”

Thor just groans, face-planting onto a pillow.

“Someone just put me out of my misery.”

“Or don’t,” Bucky says. “What’s stopping you?”

“The fact that if he doesn’t like me it’ll be awkward for the rest of eternity?”

Sam snorts.

“If I didn’t know Bucky, you’d be the stupidest person I know.”

“Hey!”

The family discussion about the vacation goes well, and Tony keeps giving Bruce pointed looks, and Thor is enduring the most uncomfortable gaze from Natasha he’s ever suffered from.

They both cannot take this for long.

It’s awkward, honestly. They’re both in the lobby of their floor, and Bruce can’t meet his eyes and Thor isn’t quite sure how to go about it.

“Would you like to get coffee with me?” Thor asks.

“Sure,” Bruce says. “You want Timely or Joe-Fix-It for coffee?”

“...Timely, I heard they introduced a new flavor.”

“Alright.”

They both relax a little bit into the car ride, and by the time they’re at the coffee shop, both are laughing about a text that Loki sent about one “hypothetical” situation.

It’s easy, and it’s...nice. Thor wants this, and so does Bruce.

“I have something to ask you,” Thor says, looking into his coffee before gazing at Bruce. “And you can say no if you’d like.”

“Go easy on me today,” Bruce says softly, and Thor doesn’t miss how his hands clench around his coffee cup.

“I, um. I have feelings for you. The kind that make your heart speed up.”

“Anxious thoughts?”

Thor barks out a laugh at that, and scratches the back of his neck.

“I am...this whole thing is ad libitum.”

“What does that even mean.”

“Without preparation.” They sit for a moment, Thor collecting his words.

“Bruce?”

“Yes?”

“Do you...do you remember when Natasha was on her period romance drama kick, and we watched Sense and Sensibility?”

“Um, yeah? Why?”

“Do you. Do you remember at the end? The quote about the heart?”

“No?”

“Shit.”

It was going to be romantic. Thor was assuming that Bruce remembered the quote about the heart and the always, because it was honestly a cheesy but good movie, and Thor was going to pretend like he knew the quote too so that it would make for a romantic confession.

“Let me, ah...” he fumbles to get his phone out. “I was hoping you would have remembered the quote.”

“And you don’t know it?”

“No, unfortunately. I fell asleep.”

“So did I!” Bruce laughs. “I think we both fell asleep that night. What are you doing now?”

“I’m...looking up the quote. I’m quite sure it applies to our current situation.”

“You sound so proper,” Bruce teases, and Thor slides the phone across the table, showing a truly shitty edit of the quote done in pink, loopy cursive.

His face softens, and he turns up to Thor.

“You...really mean that?”

“More than anything. I’ll be yours, if you want.”

“I want.”

Thor laughs, grin wide and big as he gets up and engulfs Bruce in a hug.

“I think I could not get happier.”

Bruce turns red, adjusting his glasses.

“I’m...I’m happy with you,” Bruce says, and by god he looks cute like this, all flustered. “But I think we should head back before we have to sign in at the front desk, right?”

“Of course.”

There’s a pleasant energy in the car after that, and before they exit, Bruce takes Thor’s hand.

“Yes?”

"Do you think they’ll be surprised?”

“Considering that they’ve been dropping hints for weeks for both of us? I’m expecting Steve and Tony to gloat for weeks over winning over Natasha.”

“You’re sure they won over Nat?”

Bruce grins guiltily. “Nat invited me to her sleepover with Pepper and Sharon. I learned things.”

Thor laughs, getting out of the car.

“Then I look forward to their reactions.”

Not much actually changed, honestly. They were already so close, although Thor is prone to random forehead kisses and bragging about his boyfriend in every single class, to the point where one teacher had to limit his stories about Bruce to two a week, so he had to make them count.

Bruce enjoys kissing Thor a lot, and always enjoys when Natasha makes a little “aw” noise or when he has a date planned.

It’s nice. And he likes it a lot.

#thorbruce #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #thor #sam wilson #bucky barnes #tony stark #lovelyirony writes #i just love them a lot :)#also YES the reason i wrote the sense and sensibility scene like that is because i havne't watched the movie #so i thought it'd be cute if they knew that they watched it #(and yes i am aware that there is a book)#also yes natasha just goes to his room to get coffee #avengers as a college dorm #WHICH IS ENTERTAINING TO THINK ABOUT

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three-moons-watching · 3 years

Text

Alternate Prophecy AU Timeline

For those who are interested!

I’m linking the parts as i write them, so if you’d like to read them in order, here’s the order!

if a part doesn’t have a link that means i haven’t written it yet. you are more than welcome to request that i write a certain part, just copy-past the part you want in an ask (anon or otherwise) and send it. limit one line (sentence bullet point thing idk what to call them) per ask but you can send multiple asks at once

i’m more than willing to answer any questions about this au if you’ve got any

this timeline is NOT final! the order of events might change and some of these lines might get squished together, but for now this is how the story is happening

i won’t be writing all of this in order, sorry

PLEASE DON’T REBLOG THIS POST - please don’t reblog this timeline post until all the parts are written and linked (anything linked is okay to reblog tho)

thanks for reading what I have to say! :D timeline under the cut!

-this post here explains the basics of what i did for the dragonets for this au

-starflight is in the lab writing down timelines for the rainwing prisoners and how the research is going to go in the coming months, and while he’s doing that morrowseer comes in to question him about the prophecy

-then morrowseer takes him away to meet the “dragonets of destiny” which are the alternate dragonets from book four, so flame, orche, viper, squid and fatespeaker. starflight is tasked with keeping an eye on them but as soon as morrowseer leaves them alone the dragonets immediately try to kill starflight

-starflight runs and hides like he does in the book and while he’s hiding he has a vision of the future. in this vision he sees five dragonets who are not the ones that just tried to kill him (he’s surprised to see that this future includes himself and not fatespeaker). they’re in the rainforest, which is not where he was expecting

-he decides that this means he needs to go see to it that this future happens, and all the timelines show that this is probably the best course of action

-i don’t know if he tells fatespeaker or not because if she tells him she’ll insist on coming along and idk how to write her yet so maybe not but idk for sure yet

-he goes to the rainforest and meets glory, who demands to know what happened to Orchid and Kinkajou

-when he doesn’t give her a straight answer she drags him off to meet jambu and threatens to knock him out with blowdarts while they swing all the way to the forest

-he meets jambu and suntime starts

-starflight sneaks back to the tunnels and runs into deathbringer, who agrees to take him to the mud kingdom

-they fly to the mud kingdom and glory follows them, deathbringer gives him advice about living on his own in the world and then they get caught in a battle and separated

-starflight almost gets burned but is saved by clay and asks him and his silbings about the prophecy

-after things are sorted and he recruits clay into saving the world with him (maybe he spends a few days in the swamps? idk yet) starflight says he’s going to try the skywings next and deathbringer is like “oh no no no don’t go anywhere near the skywing palace, scarlet will find you and you will fight in her arena”

-so he doesn’t do that and deathbringer takes him back to the rainforest where glory leads them to the village, deathbringer meets the rainwings and jambu asks them where they’ve been for the last couple days

-(i’m debating having jambu x deathbringer be a thing cause it was brought to my attention that that’s a ship and i think it’s fun so if ur reading this lemme know ur thoughts about that)

-deathbringer has to go and starflight decides maybe the seawings are next on his list to recruit a dragonet, so he makes plans to go the rainforest and glory and jambu insist on going with (glory so she can keep an eye on him and jambu cause glory is going and it sounds fun)

-then they either meet riptide and tsunami out in the middle of nowhere in the sea kingdom

-or they find the summer palace and fall through the ceiling and meet tsunami that way

-tsunami either brings them to the summer palace or after starflight falls through the canopy one of my ocs, prince oyster, talks to starflight about eggs and things and takes him to a dragon that knows about hatcheries and other dragons that might know more about eggs that hatched on the brightest night

-after talking to urchin, oyster takes starflight to wait in a cave so he can meet the queen and uh. starflight meets the queen and possibly blister but i have no idea

-more things happen here, they probably go back to the rainforest

-starflight starts making plans to go to the desert and jambu says he’s had all the fun outside the rainforest that he can handle so he stays behind and glory and tsunami don’t like each other but also just kinda vibe and exciting things

-anyway somehow they go to the desert and the scorpion den and they meet sunny and thorn and qibli and six claws and ostritch (and i love basically every sandwing in this series guys i might have to turn myself into a sandwing for a while cause they’re all just so cool)

-starflight asks about the prophecy (he falls in love with her at first sight, he thinks, but she’s aro/ace so she doesn’t feel the same (also i’m giving sunny freckles cause i can)

-things happen, he recruits sunny and then at this point all they need is a skywing, which, according to the futures is going to be hard.

-starflight, glory, tsunami and possibly sunny decide it might be a good idea to get clay before they try any skywing-recruiting endeavors, so they make plans to go find clay in the swamps

-they don’t take the tunnels, which was their first mistake. Starflight gets annoyed at his new, incredibly loud travelling companions, and does the raindrop/ocean waves mind reader blocking trick and it works a little too well when a skywing patrol sneaks up on them and captures all of them

-the arena is terrifying. glory manages to get away so she’s not scarlet’s ‘art’ but tsunami and starflight are trapped on their spires. there’s no clay here

-tsunami has to kill her father

-starflight and tsunami are tasked to fight every icewing in the arena, but glory appears out of nowhere and venoms all of them, which leads to peril being let out and more venom spraying and scarlet getting hit and the skywing palace going into uproar, and starflight gets a mind reader headache

-anyway. somehow they escape, maybe with peril’s help or maybe not, and basically meet clay how clay meets his siblings in the first book, by going to the mudwing swamps.

-and again that’s all i’ve got for now but i’ll keep thinking about plot stuff

Other notes:

-this covers ONLY the first arc. i don’t know how to lead this into jade mountain so this au ends after the war unless i can think of a way to make JM happen

-I DO want peril to be friends with the dragonets, i just don’t know how to pull that off yet

-dune is dead, not sure how

-kestrel is dead because of the whole twin egg incident trial thing

-webs is hiding with the talons of peace, he might be a teacher to the false dragonets or something idk

-i don’t know how all the events in the books are going to go down but i want glory to be queen someday and things with the summer palace will go down and starflight will go blind because of the volcano, probably, but i’m working all of that out

-glory will eventually be queen

-the summer palace might be destroyed somehow idk yet

-the volcano will erupt and starflight will go blind, but that might happen after the war ends

-i don’t exactly know if and where they’ll meet the sandwing queens but i’m working on that

if you read this far honestly thank you so much for being interested!! i’m very open to ideas, questions, requests and literally anything else so don’t feel shy about reaching out, my inbox and dms are always open :D

that’s all from me so far! i’ll work on this for as long as my hyperfixation lasts lol

#plz don't reblog this one #u can reblog anything linked but please don't reblog this post yet #once all the parts are filled in i will edit parts rewrite some things and turn it into a fic that you can read over on ao3 #alternate prophecy au #alternate prophecy au timeline #also lemme know if i ever miss any parts it's bound to happen sooner or later lol

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johannesviii · 4 years

Text

A Useless Post Rating the Preppers From Death Stranding

Because I can and I will. I got super attached to some of these bunches of pixels while playing, and I want to share my useless and extra subjective opinions

No plot-related spoilers. This is only listing the Preppers and not any Bridges employee from the various cities and facilities. No reasonable individuals to be found here, only strange people living in bunkers, baby

Let’s go

The Ludens Fan

Shelter placement: On a mountain, right between a Timefall zone and MULE territory, and not on any obvious delivery route. Not great. The view is super nice, though. 6/10

Prepper: A cinnamon roll who believes the world will be saved by fandoms and games. Always happy to see you. Gets super excited when you find old figurines for him. Sends lost stuff to people he doesn’t even know. Has toy dinosaurs.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Not really.

Opinion while playing: He is a Friend. 9/10

The Musician

Shelter placement: Hidden behind a little cliff, on a mountain, in a patch of nice fresh moss, next to a cool waterfall, overlooking the whole valley. Not on any delivery route whatsoever but come on. This guy is living the dream. 10/10

Prepper: Talks to you as if he’s known you since highschool. Has an emo haircut. Very passionate about rock albums from the “beginning of the 21st century” so I’m assuming he’s a fellow MCR fan. The walls of his shelter are covered in vinyls. Wants to create and share the music of the future for free. Streams his concerts on the chiral network.

Will I get something nice if I help them: A harmonica. You can play it. I’m in love

Opinion while playing: Hell yeah what a cool dude 10/10

The Engineer

Shelter placement: In plain view right next to a huge road and two MULE territories. Dude didn’t even try to hide and his packages are stolen all the time. At least the weather is nice? 3/10

Prepper: Has spent his entire life inside of this bunker since birth. Polite and a bit shy. Has a friendly smile. Judging by the amount of alcohol we deliver to him, feels lonely. Sometimes you’ll find gallons of lube with his name on it and he’ll refuse to give any kind of explanation and to be fair the guy probably uses it for all his mechanical inventions. But deep down, we know.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Upgrades for the Power Skeleton. You know you want them.

Opinion while playing: Another Friend. I will judge him silently every time I have to bring him his lost lube though. 9/10

The Craftsman

Shelter placement: Next to a huge road on a plain ravaged by Timefall, between two MULE territories and a voidout crater choke-full of BTs. Can potentially see the nightmarish ruins of a roadside factory and a traffic jam where everyone clearly got killed. I don’t know if I hate it or respect the shit out of it. 2/10

Prepper: Suspicious of us. Sends us on a suicide mission to fetch old equipment in a terrifying place. Hates Fragile, so we can’t be friends. Likes to fix broken watches, apparently. A lot of his lost packages seem to be special reinforced underwear. I’m curious but also I don’t want to pry.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Custom hematic grenades. Can’t live without them.

Opinion while playing: A suspicious little shit and I don’t trust him but he’s still a good ally. 5/10

The Elder

Shelter placement: On a majestic plateau in the middle of the region, overlooking everything. Not on any obvious route, which is a problem, but also away from danger, Timefall and MULEs. A green little patch of heaven. 9/10

Prepper: Old and kind but takes no shit from anybody. All of his emails are like “anyway, f█ck the government and f█ck this country” and I’m living for it. Will give away old photo albums, books and games predating the Death Stranding, in hope they can be shared with other people and their kids. Wholesome as hell.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Not really.

Opinion while playing: The most valid boomer you will ever see. My adoptive grandfather and I must protect him at all costs. 10/10

Peter Englert

Shelter placement: Not on any obvious delivery route but right next to Lake Knot City on a plain ravaged by Timefall. You can see Middle Knot City’s crater from there. Not a bad spot, but also no good vibes whatsoever. 6/10

Prepper: Never at home, has no hologram and keeps finding terrible excuses not to be there, which is rude. Possibly imaginary friends and relatives. Writes extremely long and well-spoken, obsequious, smarmy emails to you and you’ll receive them at the worst possible moments, like he just knows. Only interested in pizza, and you.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Hope you like high quality guns, and very disturbing journal entries.

Opinion while playing: Was literally calling him my nemesis even BEFORE learning anything about the guy. The best and the worst prepper at the same time. Go f█ck yourself, dude, I love you. Pizza/10

The Timefall Farmer and the Environmental Scientist

Shelter placement: Right next to a huge MULE territory. There’s the Tar Belt in the distance and no city, road or friends for miles. Very awkward. 4/10

Preppers: Planned to study the effects of Timefall on plants and became farmers instead. They are not enjoying it one bit and you’re under the impression they occasionally get on each other’s nerves even though they’ve been colleagues for years. The concept of their farm is a fantastic bit of worldbuilding, though, but they are a bit bland themselves.

Will I get something nice if I help them: A goose hologram. I need it

Opinion while playing: They’re super nice but their general weariness is too contagious for comfort. 4/10

The Film Director

Shelter placement: In the middle of jagged rocks, reasonably far away from local MULEs and Timefall, but also from any kind of road or decent delivery route. The ground is a poisonous reddish brown with occasional smoke. Ominous. 5/10

Prepper: Really worried about ancient media getting lost and forgotten, and will do anything to save old movies from oblivion. Trusts you instantly. Is always surprised you brought something for him, or just thought about him, and it’s heartwarming to see. Geeks about things he likes in your emails when he isn’t low-key flirting with you. Has the most epic beard you will ever see in your life.

Will I get something nice if I help them: A rock hologram. Uh?

Opinion while playing: Came for the geeking, stayed for the flirting 8/10

The Collector

Shelter placement: Inside a cavern two-thirds up a vertical rock face in a canyon slap bang in the middle of MULE territory. Invisible from ground level, and invisible from the bottom of the canyon. The MULEs live literally next door and don’t even know the guy is there. No chill whatsoever. Incredible. What a king. 10/10

Prepper: Shaped like a friend. Loves videogames and loves geeking about them. Fascinated by pre-Stranding press like “people were buying newspapers? On real paper?? :O”. Really wants you to read his emails because he’s got nobody to share his special interests with. Wants to write about your adventures to inspire other people. Occasionally you’ll find a lost package with a vintage playstation and you know it’s for him even without looking at the name on the tag.

Will I get something nice if I help them: A backpack cover to protect your stuff from Timefall?? holy shit?

Opinion while playing: We have no choice but to stan. 9/10

The Junk Dealer

Shelter placement: On a heavily polluted, rust-colored hill in the middle of a scrapyard full of broken down cars, overlooking both MULE and BT territory AND some f█cking terrifying ruins on all sides. It’s metal as shit, but also, the dude’s got a death wish. 3/10

Prepper: Tries to emotionally blackmail us with videos of his supposedly dead girlfriend. Very rude. Sends us on a suicide mission in BT territory to look for junk just for a laugh. Is such a piece of shit he got divorced by a woman who was willing to be carried under heavy Timefall through a horde of BTs to see him. Killed his girlfriend’s parents and didn’t tell her.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Upgrades for the Speed skeleton, and also chiral ladders, which are both life-saving, and I hate the fact that I need those so much.

Opinion while playing: A piece of shit and a terrible human being. Go sit on some rusty metal in BT territory, my dude. 1/10

The Chiral Artist and her Mother

Shelter placement: Overlooking a bottomless lake of tar and depressing ruins plagued by Timefall, far from civilisation but also far from trouble. Depressing, but safe. 6/10

Preppers: A little ray of sunshine. Capable of planning a journey on foot while avoiding Timefall and BTs after having done the trip exactly once (1) and on our back, which makes her one of the bravest Preppers we ever meet. Talented as hell with chiralium. Very awkward speech patterns and elocution which I always find relatable. Makes extremely bad choices regarding her love life. Will send you likes in a cringy but cute way. I don’t really trust her adoptive mother too much but she seems to be friends with the Cosplayer and any friend of the Cosplayer is my friend.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Chiral boots. Literally the most useful thing anyone anywhere gave me in this game. No matter how far I am from her and her mom I will backtrack to get some brand new chiral boots from her every time I need them. They are that good

Opinion while playing: I love her but she’s making extremely bad life choices and it’s giving me mild anxiety 8/10

The Cosplayer and the Wandering MC

Shelter placement: At the very bottom of a long, narrow canyon plagued by Timefall, inside a vertical hole in the ground. How they haven’t both drowned yet is beyond me. This is the worst idea ever. 1/10

Prepper: Both of them are always super excited to see you. Trade a ton of art and crafts supplies back and forth with everyone in the region. Organised a goddamn post-apo cosplay convention through the chiral network. She considers cosplay to be ‘the art of transformation’, and he’s a big fan of you, and also otters. Otter facts. Dad Jokes to the max. Legends only

Will I get something nice if I help them: Backpack custom options. And the otter hood. Come on. Who doesn’t want to look like an otter. According to the MC it was “threaded and triple stitched by [his] cosplay partner using silk”. I don’t deserve this gift

Opinion while playing: Just because it’s the apocalypse doesn’t mean you can’t look and feel your best 10/10

The Doctor and the Medical Device Engineer

Shelter placement: Overlooking a little river in the mountains, right before the snow starts. Extremely close to Mountain Knot City. Practical and beautiful. Lovely spot. 8/10

Preppers: She invented and crafted a medical terminal that allows doctors to examine patients remotely through the network, and distributed it for free. He’s sitting on years of medical knowledge and stockpiles of meds, and also sharing both with everyone. Got married because they admired each other so much and shared a common hatred of the lack of medical assistance post-Stranding. Two absolute angels. We don’t deserve them

Will I get something nice if I help them: Custom blood bags. A must during boss fights.

Opinion while playing: A bit too serious, but mad respect. 7/10

The Photographer

Shelter placement: In the mountains, in the middle of nowhere, overlooking the valley, but away from everything and everyone, next to BT territory and daaaangerously close to the biggest Demens camp in the entire country. Who told you this was a good idea. 4/10

Prepper: The walls of her shelter are decorated with photos of beautiful landscapes. Friendly but takes no shit. Constantly trying to go out to take pictures of cool places and weird paleoart and stuff even though there’s a whole gang of terrorists outside firing live ammo at anyone on sight. Her cameras get stolen all the time, and yet she keeps doing it again and again. Judging by one delivery she sent to Mountain Knot City, she even has footage of Edge Knot City. You know. The unreachable nightmarish place beyond the f█cking Tar Belt. HOW

Will I get something nice if I help them: Guns because she clearly has no chill

Opinion while playing: This woman has more nerves in her left pinky than I have in my entire f█cking body. We stan a queen 9/10

The Novelist’s Son

Shelter placement: In a vast, beautiful green plain full of rivers and lakes, kind of in the middle of nowhere but also at a safe distance of the Demens territory. It’s painted the same green as the rest of the plain, which is a stroke of genius. 8/10

Prepper: Considering his title and the fact that the walls of his shelter are full of bookshelves, I expected a pretentious writer of sorts. But no. He doesn’t write. He’s just a soft boy who wants to save the world with plants. Will make sure you read his emails because he’s very passionate about gardening, gourds and mythology, and wants to talk about it with everyone. Too good for this world, too pure.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Special cryptobiotes! Pretty cool. I want to save some for Fragile

Opinion while playing: I love him I love thinking about him 10/10

The Roboticist

Shelter placement: High in the mountains, but in some sort of hollow, surrounded by snow and rocks on all sides. There’s also a nice hot spring nearby. Feels strangely safe and pleasant for such an isolated spot. 7/10

Prepper: Super approachable and quite friendly. Clearly a genius considering how good the all-terrain skeleton is. The stuff she’s looking for goes from stuff for her projects to a plush for her kid or a vintage coffee machine. Her emails, meanwhile, are shit-your-pants terrifying, like her wondering if machines should replace humans, or pranking you by pretending she was dead the whole time and her hologram is an IA. Thank you for the heart attack.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Upgrades for the all-terrain skeleton, hell yeah baby

Opinion while playing: I’m very conflicted because her emails are scary as shit but if she stepped on my face I’d say “thank you” 8/10

The Mountaineer and the Mountain Guide

Shelter placement: On top of a mountain but in a relatively flat and safe area, very isolated but also far from Beached Things, with good visibility. There’s logic to the madness. 6/10

Preppers: Initially in panic mode due to a medical emergency. Tough outside, but soft inside. He gives you precious advice about whiteouts and how to deal with them and stay alive in the mountains. We don’t know much about her, except she used to explore the mountains using chiral climbing anchors. Just speculation but I’m under the impression they met one day on a super dangerous expedition and ended together because they were both tough as nails, or maybe because they saved each other. Their kid is going to be unstoppable.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Chiral climbing anchors.

Opinion while playing: Wholesome couple of adventurers. A bit bland, but in a good way 7/10

The Spiritualist

Shelter placement: On a mountain peak in the middle of a whiteout area, but sometimes the weather can be decent and the view pretty nice, if you squint. Getting there feels like a test to join a secret cult and I don’t like that one bit. 3/10

Prepper: Twin sister of the Cosplayer, but gives off a very different vibe, like some sort of white suburban mom who’s discovering new age stuff. Has a very mystical approach to this whole apocalypse thing but seems to be wayyy too much into it for comfort. Really wants to see the Beach and tries to do so through meditation. We can receive chemicals from her. I do NOT want to know what’s in there.

Will I get something nice if I help them: A RACCOON HOLOGRAM?? I LOVE IT

Opinion while playing: Harmless but she scares me. 3/10

The First Prepper

Shelter placement: On a nearly inaccessible mountain peak battered by snow storms. The slope is so dangerous I straight up died once while walking on it. Absolutely nothing for miles and no visibility. That’s not a shelter, that’s a coffin. 1/10

Prepper: Apparently his family has lived in shelters ever since the beginning of the Cold War, then decided to stay there in case the world would end in the year 2000, then because of the Bush era, and long story short the guy is like “I did it before it was cool” and he’s literally gatekeeping other Preppers and calling them amateurs. Tries really hard to convince us to stop helping people and get our own shelter. At least he admits self-sufficiency is a mirage in the end, which is more than I expected from this clown.

Will I get something nice if I help them: A hat, and a wolf hologram

Opinion while playing: When the nicest thing I have to say about a Prepper is “well they’re not hurting anybody”, you know it’s bad. What a jerk 2/10

The Evo-Devo Biologist

Shelter placement: On an isolated snow slope away from civilisation, overlooking ruins and geysers in the distance. Not far from BT territory and terrorists, but still at a reasonable distance. Next to a hot spring. The view is majestic as f█ck. 9/10

Prepper: Looks strict and gives off severe teacher vibes, but you’re under the impression that’s purely because she hasn’t seen or talked to another human being in years. Polite but distant. Thinks the sixth mass extinction is a golden opportunity for science, and inevitable, and that we should study the shit out of it even if we end up dying. She’s not wrong exactly but also, yikes

Will I get something nice if I help them: Not really.

Opinion while playing: I genuinely have no idea. An enigma. 5/10

The Geologist

Shelter placement: High in the mountains on a desolate snowy slope, completely isolated from everything. I think I’ve seen a movie about that kind of place once, except it was a hotel. 2/10

Prepper: The first package we bring to him is a shipment of meds to fight chiral contamination. No more nightmares or suicidal thoughts after that, so he’s ok. Also he’s obsessed with Heartman to the point you wonder if he’s got a crush on him, belittles himself and his work constantly, and also thinks saving the world is a waste of time and effort. No no he’s still ok, he swears. But yeah uh. Dude is clearly one small step away from blowing a fuse and going full Demens, we need to sit down and talk about your problems my friend

Will I get something nice if I help them: Not really.

Opinion while playing: I like him but he worries me a lot and I’m a bit scared for him 7/10

The Paleontologist

Shelter placement: In a little valley in the mountains, where grass and snow meet, miles away from civilisation and roads, but also miles away from problems. If there wasn’t this pit full of toxic gas literally next door, this would be perfect. 8/10

Prepper: Likes to complain about everything and everyone. A bit rude but more in a familiar way than an unpleasant way. Extremely passionate about fossils and prehistoric stuff and gets super excited about ammonites in particular. Mentions exploring a place full of toxic gas without any kind of protection just to fetch some neat rocks once, so we both clearly have the same level of survival instincts when our special interests are involved.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Not really, unless you count level 2 Hematic Grenades

Opinion while playing: Relatable as shit. I feel like I’d be this guy if I existed in this game’s world. 9/10

The Veteran Porter

Shelter placement: Nowhere Man lives on a very abrupt slope full of rocks in the middle of Nowhereburg, Nowhere State, Nowherica. You get the feeling he knows the region like the back of his hand and picked that spot exactly for that reason and frankly, I have to respect that. 7/10

Prepper: Ex-Porter with a damaged spine. A retired adventurer, exhausted after carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Higgs used to be his boss back when he was still working at Fragile Express so the dude has massive trust issues now and I won’t argue with that. Initially suspicious of us and Bridges, for good reasons. Every time I found a super isolated bunker signed under Fragile Express I was like “woah their employees were hardcore to find all these places that Bridges couldn’t find”, and he’s one of these guys, and I get it now. And he’s tired. So tired. A whole mood.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Not really.

Opinion while playing: Unlike the First Prepper I respect the shit out of him and I want him to enjoy his well-earned retirement 8/10

#death stranding #long post #eye contact tw

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but-first--tea · 4 years

Text

LFRP: Omori Kaya

THE BASICS

Full name: Omori Kaya

Pronunciation: Oh-Moh-Ree Kay-Uh (Omori is her surname, Kaya is her given name)

Nicknames: n/a

Height: 5'6" (quite tall for a midlander hyur)

Age: “A lady never reveals her age.” (adult)

Nameday: 32nd Sun of the 3rd Astral Moon

Languages: Doman, Common

Occupation: Not getting caught.

Current Residence: "Traveling abroad.“ (Basically living a tourist’s life in Eorzea, hoping to never be called out as the fraud she is. She’ll spend time as someone’s guest here, staying in a hotel elsewhere the next month, etc…)

Relationship Status: While she has never actually been married, the identity of the woman she pretends to be is a young widow and heiress. (Single)

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS

Hair color: Black

Eye color: Pale, silvery grey

Skin tone: Fair

Body type: Slender, athletic but not in an obvious way.

Scars: none

Accent: Doman

Posture

Poised, athletic– though she’s no master shinobi, she is her mother’s daughter. Her training began at the age of four, and it’s still evident in the way she moves, observes, and behaves. Others who have trained would likely notice it easily. She carries herself with quiet dignity, and moves (or refuses to) deliberately, as if she expects each action to be read for significance, and takes great care not to reveal too much unintentionally. Though, in the very rare instances when she lets down her guard, this facade can fade away, revealing that she’s still a girl who can be amused, and charmed, and is easily mesmerized by beautiful places and things.

Accessories

She’s almost never seen without jewelry, though all of it is merely decorative– the trappings of the life she’s stepped into. None of it is personal, or carries meaning beyond appearing as she’s expected to.

Apparel

Her taste ranges from the classically dramatic to the outright exotic- not out of a sense of vanity, but in an appreciation of what is more or less wearable art. She most frequently wears black and white, though she also favors blue and occasionally red. In keeping with her heritage, she tends toward modesty in her dress. Of course, most of these clothes once belonged to a woman whose identity she has stolen, and she’s begun to add Eorzean fashions to her wardrobe to stand out less. The more she blends in, the fewer questions about her past she needs to dodge...

CHILDHOOD

Place of Birth: Doma

Siblings: none she knows of

Parents: The samurai Masanari and an Imperial Shadow named Harue, though Kaya has never known her biological father, as she was still less than a year old when he disappeared.

Upbringing: Raised initially by her mother, and later trained by grandmother once her affinity for magic became apparent. (More details can be found in her character history.)

PERSONAL

Personality

Outwardly, she is polite and mysterious, with a demeanor ranging from businesslike toward strangers, to an unexpected sort of mischievous and rebellious streak around the rare soul she’s begun to feel comfortable around. She’s evasive and distant. She rarely connects with others easily, which leads to most people assuming she’s either very shy, or rather snobbish, at first impression. She doesn’t trust easily, isn’t prone to showing any emotion in public if she can avoid it, and is often the one who, from an outward appearance, seems to be just another quiet wallflower enjoying the view.

Beneath the surface, however, she feels everything perhaps far too much, watches everyone with the wariness of someone who knows all too well what people are capable of, and deeply craves the connections to others she doesn’t seem to be able to form easily. She’s always searching for the few who can see the world the way she does- as something equally beautiful as it is deadly, meant to be lived in, not just endured. She’s a powder keg of passions always kept under a tight lid, hidden away for safe keeping.

Still, she is difficult to anger, and it’s a cold anger when it happens. She knows that engaging in violence and revealing her training would likely break character entirely, and being discovered as a fraud wouldn’t end well for her. As a result, she’ll try to think her way out of any situation, instead.

Motivations/Goals

If asked what she wants more than anything else in the world, she’d probably say to be able to do what she wanted, not what she was told, or allowed, or expected to. She craves freedom in all its definitions, but nearly always denies it to herself out of fear or pragmatism. While playing the role of a young, noble heiress she feels the restraints of her gilded cage all too keenly. She must behave in the way one raised to the role would be expected to. As a result, she finds small ways to rebel that aren’t likely to be noticed. Her fierce and defiant nature, thus repressed, will see her doing seemingly pointless things like rearranging the furniture in hotel rooms, stealing small items she could easily afford, or finding ways to secretly get even with those who have behaved poorly.

Financial Status

Ostensibly wealthy, though not one gil of it was ever truly hers. Still, she feels no guilt in obtaining the Omori family’s accounts considering they would have otherwise been seized by the Garlean government following Lord Omori’s assassination.

She has been quietly seeking a way to invest ‘her’ money in a way that would divorce it from her stolen inheritance, make it more truly hers, and greatly reduce the risk of losing everything should her false identity be uncovered.

Weapons

While she was raised to the blade and bow for most of her childhood, she hides her training and doesn’t carry a weapon openly, if at all. If cornered and forced to defend herself, she’d mostly likely attempt to disarm an opponent and steal theirs, or improvise.

Vices

Seemingly none, as she has striven to present herself as a woman of proper graces. However, she is prone to self-indulgence and spending far too much gil merely because she can, which she considers a vice in herself and tries to resist.

Likes

People who are intelligent, interesting, vibrantly passionate and alive. Watching people do things that require specialized skill, especially combat training or constructing something.

Constructive debate and interesting challenge. Trying/learning new things.

Music, dancing. She’s often wished she could play an instrument, but has never learned to.

Nature, gardens, fireflies, birds, waterfalls, the ocean/seaside. Traveling to anywhere with a spectacular view or vibrant culture. Learning about said cultures.

Exotic spiced foods or just about anything she hasn’t tasted before that doesn’t look absolutely disgusting. Tea. Fruits, chocolate, and spiced cider or tea. Have I mentioned tea?

Unusual crystals and/or gemstones. While she’s generally unfazed by wealth or status, she appears to be positively mesmerized by sparklies.

Dislikes

Politics, rumor mongering, cattiness, insults, and general poor behavior.

People who think getting drunk is the best kind of fun to be had.

Addictive drugs, and those who sell them.

Being forced to do anything, feeling not in control over her own life.

Overly objectifying unwanted attention, awkward social situations/obligations/expectations.

Being cold, biting insects.

Hobbies

Reading, especially the arcane.

Learning the history of different places and cultures.

Collecting small, easily transportable items (generally clothing or jewelry) in local styles from each new place she visits.

Pets: None, currently. She once had a magpie as a pet when she was younger, and maintains a fondness for birds of all kinds.

RP HOOKS

She’s looking (quietly) for a way to launder, er... invest her money to gradually eliminate the need to rely on her stolen identity and foreign contacts for access to funds. Have an opportunity?

A trusted lady’s maid, retainer, or guard type to help her maintain appearances.

It’s possible that someone from her past in Doma might recognize her, or perhaps have known the real Omori Kaya.

The woman she is impersonating is an ill-fit for her. She is fierce, independent, and rebellious... the exact opposite of the demure and soft character her stolen identity demands. But, her mother risked everything to secure her new identity, and she won’t cast it off unless forced to. Still, she isn’t perfect. Someone could catch her in a mistake, and become curious...

The Lady Omori Kaya appears elegant, mysterious, ...and wealthy. Potential suitors aren’t unlikely. (Romance is an option, though she’ll be hard to pin down at first, for obvious reasons.)

She has a (stolen) soulstone in her possession, and has been working to unlock its secrets.

Open to brainstorming other connections, past associations, or jumping into -your- existing plot!

OOC

I make my own schedule. I can be available pretty much any time from 8 am to 9pm CST. Sadly, I can rarely do late nights because I need to do that sleeping thing.

OOC communication is a priority for me.

I have been RPing for 20+ years. I am comfortable with both in game or Discord RP, and anything from short, quick posts to multi para. I do this because I enjoy writing!

I am not interested in random ERP outside of a long-term character interaction. I do love writing ships as long as there's strong chemistry between the characters, and both the character and the writer of said character are mature adults. However,I will not consider ships with alt or AU characters, as this is my one and only RP character. (No multi-shipping.)

I prefer a RP style that works with what is plausible within the scope of the lore. I'm open to creativity, as long as it makes sense. I prefer to stay away from void-heavy, AU, inserts from other universes, and anything involving cross-breeding with non-playable races/beings. (These are only my personal preferences, and everyone else is free to do whatever they like!)

Absolutely no: rape, harm to children, or graphic torture.

I do enjoy game content as well, and prefer company over doing so alone! I am currently sitting in my own personal FC house, but would consider joining a real FC if it makes sense for my character.

Confession: I probably spend way too much time decorating virtual houses.

#ffxiv rp #updated character sheet #Omori Kaya #hyur midlander #Doman

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therandomfandomgal-insta · 4 years

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Instagram Things

A list of all the things I’ve learned while being a fan account on Instagram. In no particular order:

- Don’t make theme dividers, and if you have to, make them rarely.

- (Theme dividers will get no interaction and lower the interaction of your next few posts)

- Reach out! If someone’s dog is cute, tell them! If you’ve read that book too, tell them! If you like their theme/post, tell them!

- You’ll meet some really amazing people

- The account with 20 followers, 200 followers, or 2,000 doesn’t mean they’re “better” or a “bigger fan” than you. They’ve just been here longer

- Most people don’t care about themes. They see your posts in their feed, not through your account. (You can do a theme for yourself, but it won’t impact interaction)

- Interaction is important! It’s how many people do things with your post (like, comment, share, save, follow) it’s what tells Instagram to show your post to more people.

- Not everything is the algorithm’s fault,

- But a lot of things are.

- Comment (and like ofc) other people posts! Seeing your @ around will draw people to your account over time, plus, support your fellow creators!!

- Same idea with shoutouts, even if people don’t follow you immediately, if they see your @ with a bunch of those they DO follow, eventually they’ll follow you

- Be a business account, not personal (you’ll have access to analytics this way, and see how your posts are performing)

- This can be time consuming. I was spending 6+ hours in Insta when I first started. (There’s not much else to do during a summer quarantine, but still!) So set an Instagram limit for yourself. Mine is 2 hours.

- Prioritize yourself. I don’t care if your posts preform best when they’re posted at 12:00 on the dot, go eat lunch. Talk to ppl irl. Read some more of the book you’re posting about. Take some time for you.

- Stories are important! Don’t leave it empty! Story interaction is important too! It won’t boost your posts, but it will make people realize you exist (which might let them know you have a new post)

- If you post a question (QotD) in your story, don’t leave it open ended (at least not in the beginning). People are more likely to reply when they can click instead of typing an individual answer. A Poll or Quiz will give you more interaction than a Question.

- if you ask a Question, (and are going to reply to/share the answers) do so immediately. People are more likely to reply if they know they’re not the first/other people replied too.

- CREDIT THE CREATORS!!!!

- Seriously, if you’re a repost account and not crediting, not only is that ~art theft~ you’ll piss off people and lose followers.

- Credit people they way they want.

- “tag & credit” = tag them in the post, AND write “credit to @exaample”

- “credit” = writing “credit to @examplee” in the caption.

- When crediting a text post account, you can put the @ anywhere in the caption (as long as it’s before the hashtags)

- When crediting art accounts, put the @ in the VERY FIRST sentence of your caption. (This is so if your post is uploaded somewhere it’s not supposed to be, the artist’s @ is more likely to be visible)

- Don’t post too much. You need to give your posts time to grow, circulate, and get likes. If you post 3-5 times a day (like I did at first!) a post will only get 30-50 likes before your new post comes out, and the likes go there instead.

- I saw an increase of 200 likes when I went from posting 1-2 a day to every other day (I think that’s a 500% increase if my math works)

- Periodically check what the algorithm is. Sometimes posts preform better with a geo tag (you could use Books, Panem, Eriliea, The Library, etc. There are “locations” you can tag that don’t actually say where you are)

- sometimes posts preform better if they have an Instagram filter (put the same filter on each! and put it at 1% opacity)

- beware of scams! If something feels sketchy, it probably is.

- Having this account really helped me with talking to people, I’m pretty shy irl, and having a platform where nobody knew me or had any expectations was really freeing. Nasa might be a shy nerd, but TheRandomFandomGal is an outgoing, talkative nerd!

- I’m still learning, and I’m no instagram master

I hope this was helpful! If you have any more tips/things you learned, don’t hesitate to add them!

- @therandomfandomgal on Instagram

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ravenpaw-93 · 4 years

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So I fucked up the last post trying to link my fic 🤦🏻‍♀️ It's been a rough night and the tumblr algorithm doesn't like it when I link shit apparently. So instead, here's my oneshot 🖤

Summary:

Draco's entire eighth year at Hogwarts had been a nightmare. Most of his peers avoided him, he had no prospective job opportunities for when he left, and then there was his extremely inconvenient crush on Harry bloody Potter. But his luck begins to change when he gets an unexpected invitation to the Spring Masquerade Ball.

Draco Malfoy found himself settled under a tree along the shoreline of the black lake, enjoying the warm spring air on his face as he did his Runes revisions. Or, more accurately, stared at Harry Potter doing loops on his broomstick, under the premise of doing his Runes revisions. Bloody showoff, he thought as Potter landed seamlessly after an admittedly impressive dive a few yards away. He was immediately surrounded by a gaggle of swooning girls. Draco watched, seething, as Harry smiled easily at them, laughing at something one of them had said. He had no right to feel so jealous, he and Potter were friends, nothing more. But they didn't call it the green eyed monster for nothing, and everyone knows, there's no reasoning with a monster. He slammed his book shut with a huff, more annoyed with himself than anyone else. He piled his belongings back in his bag, slung it over his shoulder and trudged towards the castle, giving Potter and his fanclub one last scathing glance over his shoulder.

His foul mood carried all the way to dinner as he sat sullenly at the 8th year table pushing his peas around his plate aimlessly, determinedly avoiding Potter's gaze. Despite his best efforts, he looked up as a seventh year Ravenclaw, whose name Draco could not remember, approached their table where Potter sat. His stomach twisted unpleasantly as the girl twirled her hair on her finger and batted her unnaturally long eyelashes at Potter, no doubt asking him to the Masquerade Ball that was a mere week away. This had to have been the fortieth invite Potter had received, and subsequently declined. Draco, to no great surprise, hadn't been asked by anyone. He tried to convince himself that's why he was jealous, that it had nothing to do with wanting Potter for himself. He accidentally met Potter's eye, his heart stuttered in his chest when his face split into a wide grin. Draco glanced over his shoulder, convinced that smile was meant for someone other than himself. When he saw no one behind him he gave Potter a shy smile and promptly returned to his peas, ignoring the blush creeping up his neck. Merlin, he was pathetic.

"What's with you?" Blaise asked once they were back in the eighth year common room, sitting in their usual corner by the window. "You've had your wand in a knot all day."

"I have not!" Draco replied indignantly, knowing full well it was a bald-faced lie.

Blaise pursed his lips and raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow at him.

"It's nothing." Draco insisted, setting his jaw stubbornly, his eyes wandering to the corner where Potter sat nodding off in an armchair, a textbook open in his lap. Gods, he looked adorable. Draco felt a pang in his heart knowing that he would never have the person he wanted most.

"Hm..right. Maybe if nothing had ridiculous hair, dorky glasses and terrible posture." Blaise returned, rolling his eyes and nodding subtly to Potter.

"Drop it. Please , Blaise." Draco hissed, shooting him a venomous glare.

"No. I'm sick and tired of watching you pine and sulk over some idiot boy not asking you to a stupid school dance. Why don't you grow a pair and ask him yourself?" Blaise snapped impatiently.

"Fuck you." Draco spat, storming out of the room toward his and Theo Knott's shared dormitory, vaguely aware of green eyes following his every move.

He flung himself onto his bed and stared miserably at the ceiling. Who did Zabini think he was? He didn't understand. His family remained neutral in the war, he wasn't Marked, he didn't have to sit trial in front of the entire Wizengamot or have his name in the papers all summer. Draco was a social outcast, no one wanted to be around him, no one wanted to speak to him, nevermind take him to a cheesy school dance. Potter and he had become friends this year, but they weren't close and he definitely did not want to take Draco to the ball, or anywhere else for that matter. He stood up for Draco at the start of term, even to Weasley and while Draco appreciated it at the time sometimes he wished Potter wasn't so nice. Wished he wouldn't sit with Draco in the library, wouldn't fly with him on the weekends, or sit in the common room with him when the nightmares kept them both awake. It would make it much more difficult to love him if he would just go back to being a git. Maybe then Draco wouldn't lay in his bed at night thinking about the way he smiled at him in Charms, or how he helped him correct his stance when they were partnered together for Defense Against the Dark Arts, or any other stupid little interaction that Draco replayed over and over again in his mind.

He needed to get over this useless infatuation with Potter. The end of term couldn't come fast enough. He needed to not see his stupid cute face and impossibly green eyes every day. He wanted to not feel the constant ache of loving someone who deserved far better than himself. He was an ex- Death Eater, with little money, no future, thanks to a terrible decision he was forced into making at sixteen, and an impossible amount of baggage that came with it all. He wasn't good enough for Potter. He wasn't good enough for anyone. Draco gave a shuddering sigh, closed his bed hangings and allowed himself to succumb to his feelings. He buried his face in his pillow and screamed until his throat ached and his pride finally allowed the tears to spill. They didn't stop until he drifted off into a restless sleep.

When Draco awoke the next morning he was relieved to see Theo had already left for breakfast. He dug in this trunk for a clean uniform and made for the boys' shower rooms. He scrubbed the stench of misery from his skin and dressed quickly. As he brushed his teeth he examined his reflection, frowning at the deep purple circles under his red rimmed, still puffy eyes and the spot on his chin. He ran a comb through his damp hair and heaved a great sigh before returning to his dormitory to retrieve his robes and bag. He opted to skip breakfast, not ready to forgive Blaise yet and knowing Pansy was going to be too busy mooning over Theo to be of any comfort to him. Instead, he made his way to the Charms corridor and slid down the wall opposite the classroom door, to sit on the cold stone floor. He leant his aching head against the rough bricks behind him and shut his eyes. He ought to be revising his essay, but he couldn't be arsed to care. He had exceptional marks in Charms, one mediocre paper wasn't the end of the world. It's not like anyone was going to hire him anyway, even with six N.E.W.Ts.

"Hey, are you okay?" Potter's voice was soft, but still startled Draco causing him to jump, his eyes snapping open.

"What? Yes, I'm fine, Potter." He huffed impatiently. Yeah Draco, lash out. That'll help, idiot.

"Have I done something to piss you off or something? You've been avoiding me for weeks. I tried to come talk to you yesterday, but you took off." Potter asked, taking a seat next to him. Draco could smell his earthy cologne and it was making it hard for him to concentrate.

"No, not at all. I haven't been avoiding you, I've just been busy." He lied, sneaking a glance at Potter trying to discern if he bought it. He had been avoiding him, he thought some space would make things easier. Clearly, not one of his better ideas.

"Oh. Right. Well, er, what are you doing during free period? Do you want to go for a walk or something? It's really nice out today and it's been ages since we've hung out." Potter asked hopefully, looking for all the world like an eager puppy.

"Sure, that sounds good." Draco replied managing to flash him a smile, sounding much more calm than he felt. His palms were sweating, his heart was racing painfully fast, his mind spinning.

He did an abysmal job focusing during Flitwick's lesson. Potter had sat next to him and instead of listening to his teacher Draco had retreated into his head to over-analyse their conversation in the corridor. On one hand, he was dead chuffed Potter had sought him out and wanted to spend time with him. On the other, he knew better than to read too far into it. They were friends, and Draco had been distant, he probably just wanted to catch up. There was no reason for Draco to get his hopes up. Potter prodded him with his elbow bringing him back to the present. Draco looked over to see him holding an orange under the desk.

"You skipped breakfast." He whispered, grinning.

"Thanks." Draco mouthed, taking the offered fruit and giving him a small smile. His stomach fluttered pleasantly and he felt pathetic that such a simple gesture made him feel so giddy. Get it together Draco, it's an orange, not a love confession for fuck's sake. He discreetly peeled the orange in his lap, vanished the scraps and popped a segment into his mouth bending over his parchment as he chewed. He tore another off, nudged Potter's arm and passed it to him without looking away from Flitwick. He nearly choked when Potter bumped his knee against his.

He was quite proud of how well he held himself together once Flitwick turned them loose to practice Protean Charms. Draco had already mastered the charm in his sixth year, for reasons he desperately wanted to forget. Much to his surprise it only took Potter two attempts to succeed. At the end of the lesson Flitwick handed back their quizzes from the previous lesson. Draco was rather pleased to see he'd gotten a perfect score. A remarkable feat, considering he'd spent more time than he'd care to admit fretting over how dreadful Potter had looked in class that day. He stuck the parchment hastily in his bag waiting anxiously for the bell to ring so his free period could begin.

He and Potter walked together in silence to the eighth year common room to drop off their bags. Draco dropped his bag onto his bed and pulled his robes over his head and folded them neatly. Potter was waiting for him in the common room, sleeves pushed up to show his firm, tan forearms, and his purple and black tie was loose around his neck. He led the way out to the castle grounds to the treeline of the Forbidden Forest. They walked along it in silence for a few moments, the only sounds were the crunching of twigs beneath their feet and bird calling from the trees.

"Thanks for agreeing to come with me. I've really missed spending time with you, I really thought I had done something wrong." Potter said at last, turning his head to look at Draco briefly.

Draco felt a swooping sensation in his stomach and he had to fight to keep the smile off his face. He missed me? Holy shit he missed me...No. No, keep it together Draco, don't make it more than it is.

"I've missed it too." He admitted trying to keep his voice from shaking. "Sorry I've been a bit distant."

"It's okay, it happens." Potter replied amicably. "Er, so there was something I wanted to talk to you about." He continued, sounding a bit nervous and coming to a stop.

Fuck. Draco felt like his heart had plummeted from his chest down to his stomach.

"Okay." Draco said hesitantly, looking at Potter with his lip caught between his teeth.

"Well I was wondering if maybe you'd want to go to the ball with me? I know it's kind of stupid, but I think it might be fun." Potter asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Draco was sure he had misheard. Did Harry Potter just ask him to the ball? No. That can't be right, it had to be some sick joke Weasley put him up to.

"Are you fucking with me?" Draco asked in response, his tone much more accusing than he intended.

"What? No! Why would you ask that?" Potter recoiled slightly, as if Draco had slapped him.

"Why else would you ask me to the ball?" Draco countered quietly dropping his eyes to look at his shoes.

"I thought that was obvious. I asked you because I fancy you." Potter explained giving him a crooked grin.

Draco was quite certain he stopped breathing for at least twenty seconds. His heart thumped painfully quick in his chest and he felt a strange, sudden urge to jump up and down.

"I fancy you too." He replied sheepishly, feeling his cheeks heat, unable to keep from smiling.

"So is that a yes?"

"Yes, you dolt, it's a yes." Draco chuckled with an exaggerated eye roll, trying to conceal how elated he felt.

That evening he made up with Blaise and apologised for sulking over Potter for so long. He decided not to tell his friends he was going to the ball, to save himself the embarrassment, just in case it fell through. Though the fear of that happening progressively lessened as the week went on. Potter held his hand during their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson Tuesday while Professor Arrowood did a lecture on Dementors. On Wednesday they spent their free period studying for Charms together, under a tree by the lake. Potter told him he had a pretty smile. Draco had blushed furiously and stammered something incoherent about Potter's eyes.

Classes were dismissed at noon the day of the ball. Draco was a bundle of nervous, excited energy. He attempted to get some of his school work completed before he had to start getting ready but it was a lost cause. He bounced from subject to subject, unable to keep his focus. At five thirty he snuck away to the showers hoping to get his in before the other boys started getting ready for the ball. He had just slipped into his pyjama trousers and a long sleeve knit top when he heard several voices from outside the door. He gathered his dirty clothes and slipped past Macmillan, Weasley, and Longbottom and returned to his dormitory. He waited for Theo to come in and out of the room what seemed like fourteen times before getting ready. He stripped his pyjamas off and pulled on his all black dress robes set with gold fastenings and knotted his black and gold pinstriped tie. He fussed with hair in the mirror trying to get it to look intentionally tousled before sliding the ornate black and gold eye mask over his head. He felt a bit stupid wearing it, but supposed that would go away once he saw everyone else wearing one. Just as he was giving himself one more look over in the mirror someone rapped on his door.

"Draco, it's Harry. You ready to go?" Potter called from the other side.

Draco took a deep breath to calm his nerves before crossing the room and opening the heavy oak door. Gods, Potter looked stunning. His dress robes were such a dark shade of green they looked almost black, with silver fastenings. He'd opted for a deep emerald green mask with intricately painted black vines, that complimented his eyes beautifully. His hair lay much neater than it usually did, but still looked just wild enough to make Draco want to run his hands through it.

"You look amazing." Potter said breathlessly flashing him a bright smile, sending the butterflies in Draco's stomach twirling again. Though, at that moment, he could have sworn they were pigeons.

"Thank you. So do you." He replied timidly, trying to hide the flush that crept up his neck and tinted his cheeks. "Hang on, can you even see me? Where are your glasses?" He asked torn between amusement and utter confusion. How on earth was Potter going to dance with him if he couldn't see?

Potter gave a deep hearty laugh, a warm sound that filled Draco's heart and sent tingles over his skin.

"Yes I can see you, silly. I have contact lenses. They're a muggle thing. They're literally these little flexible, soft lenses that I put in my eyes, not on them." He explained with a chuckle.

"Wow. That's actually really inventive. Wonder how come wizards haven't thought of that?" Draco wondered aloud.

"Who knows. Probably the same reasons why they insist on parchment and quills." Harry snorted with a shrug. "Shall we head down?"

A sense of euphoria spread throughout his body as Potter took his hand and led him to the Great Hall. He was on cloud nine, not even the stares and mutinous whispers following them as they made their way through the castle could bring him down. As they descended the entrance hall staircase Draco watched other students craning their necks, desperate to see who had been fortuitous enough to have captured the interest of Harry Potter. Draco revelled in their envy, meeting each scathing, disbelieving glare with a smug smirk.

"I should warn you before we go in, I'm a terrible dancer. Your toes will probably be sorry you ever said yes to this." Potter admitted with a charming grin as they wove through the throng of students gathered outside the Great Hall.

"Toes mend." Draco replied gently, giving Potter's hand a light squeeze.

"Well in that case, come on. Let's go dance." Potter said pulling him through the crowd into the noisy, exquisitely decorated Great Hall.

Their first dance was a bit clumsy, involving a lot of tripping each other, trodding on feet, nervous giggles and whispered swears and apologies. But by the third song Draco's nerves had completely disappeared and he laughed as Potter spun him around, looking at him with such an adoring expression Draco lost his breath. He felt a bit silly that he was enjoying this so much, but he couldn't help it. Even surrounded by dozens of other students, Potter only had eyes for him; nothing had ever made him feel so happy. As the song came to an end Potter took him by the hand and led them, giggling as they wove through the crowded dance floor, to the refreshment table on the east wall. The dark haired Ravenclaw that had asked Potter to be her date glowered at a Draco from a few feet away as they stood in the queue for the punch bowl. Draco caught her eye and gave her a falsely sweet smile just as Potter placed a hand on the small of his back and nudged him forward.

Time was passing far too quickly for Draco's liking. After they had their drinks they returned to the dance floor. Potter danced with him as if no one was watching, like it was only the two of them, bodies moving in sync, Potter's hips grinding tantalizingly against his arse. It took every ounce of self-control Draco had not to snog Potter senseless on the spot. The crowd had thinned out considerably, most of the younger students having gone off to bed. The DJ announced the last dance and the beginning notes of a slow ballad filled the air. Potter snaked his arms around Draco's waist and in turn he draped his over Potters broad shoulders. Their faces were mere inches apart now and in the dim light Draco could make out the light dusting of freckles on the perfect ski-slope bridge of Potter's nose, his brilliant green eyes shone so bright they appeared to be glowing as they bore into Draco's.

"I wish this didn't have to end." Draco admitted, with a sad smile as he swayed with Potter to the rhythm of the music.

"Maybe it doesn't have to." Potter replied with a grin as the music started to wind down. "Come with me." He leant in and whispered, his breath tickling Draco's neck.

Draco's fingers laced through Potter's as followed the raven haired boy through the sea of couples still dancing as the last song came to an end. He led Draco to the third floor, through the clock tower door, letting it shut gently behind them. Potter caressed Draco's cheek and pulled his mask down to hand loosely around his neck, doing the same to his own.

"Christ, you're beautiful." Potter whispered tenderly. Draco felt his face heat as Potter brushed a stray hair from his eyes. "One more dance?

"There's no music." Draco answered, wrapping his arms around Potter's neck anyway.

"You don't need music to dance." Potter smiled as he rested his hands on Draco's hips and began to sway with him.

Potter rested his forehead against Draco's as they clung to each other in the moonlight. Potter looked stunning with the silvery light shimmering across his brown skin and Draco felt as though he were living in a dream. No one had ever looked at him the way Potter was. No one had ever touched him so gently, as if he were made of precious glass that could break at any moment. His heart flooded with emotion as he found himself hypnotized by emerald eyes.

"Thanks for asking me to the dance, Harry." He murmured, the corners of his mouth quirking up into a small smile.

"Thanks for coming with me." Harry returned, chewing on his bottom lip, as if deliberating what to say next. "About what I said earlier, I wasn't talking about the ball, you know. I meant this , with us, it doesn't have to end just because the ball is over."

This time Draco really did stop breathing.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Is this really happening? Did Harry really just say that? Holy shit. Okay. Don't freak out just answer him. For fuck's sake, speak Draco don't just stand there gawking at him.

"Really?" Draco asked quietly, at last, his eyes wide as they stared into Harry’s.

"Yes, really. I’ve had feelings for you for awhile, I just couldn’t work out how to tell you. I'm sorry I took so long." Harry answered cradling Draco's jaw gently in his hand. "So what do you say? Wanna be my boyfriend?"

For once, Draco didn't think. He leant forward and pressed his lips to Harry's bringing a hand up to tangle in his wild curls. His heart soared when Harry's hand pressed into the small of his back, bringing their bodies flush together. He scraped Harry's bottom lip gently with his teeth as he pulled back.

"Only for ever." Draco grinned and brought their lips together once more, knowing in his heart that he finally had the person he wanted most, and was never letting him go.

#drarry #drarry fic #drarry eighth year #draco malfoy #harry potter #oblivious draco

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thoughtsofanexcitedspacechild · 4 years

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Writing Tips (Pt. 3): Writing Believable and shippable relationships in literature.

Hello friends! First of all, let me say a HUGE thank you for the support on the Kataang post! I worked really hard on it and it means so much to me all the little notes you give it and reblog it! I know it’s not at a huge number of notes, but I like knowing that people took time to read through the endless rant and reblog it! I’m planning on doing another full analysis on Zutara and why specifically it doesn’t work. I’ll make it respectful though as I know that a lot of Kataang fans are REALLY defensive and anti-zutara. I promise I’m not one of those people, and believe that no matter who you ship, your opinions on fictional characters are your opinions and you are FULLY entitled to ship and like whatever you want (as long as it’s not incest or a huge age gap. PLEASE don’t ship that stuff lol. U nasty mfs know who u are.) Speaking of ships, let’s talk about writing them. Writing ships for movies, books, shows, etc. can be surprisingly hard. Writing characters themselves can be hard enough as it is, but writing a pair of characters that fit together like a puzzle piece can feel impossible. Nevertheless, I’m here to make that process a little bit easier. When I’m trying to set up a relationship that’s going to happen, here are some things that I keep in mind to make sure that I and the audience of my writing ship the characters I have end up together.

DISCLAIMER before I get a’rantin: I am by NO means telling you how or what to write and am by NO means a professional writer of any sorts. I’m doing this mostly because I write a lot and speak from my own personal experiences with writing and because these are just the things that I found work best when writing my own stories. I also read and analyze a lot of others work on my own personal time, and these are just the details that I pick up on that I find makes a piece of writing effective. With that in mind, remember that writing is and art form, and the beauty of that is that there’s no one right way to do it. Ever. You can read the same thing as another person and interpret it in a completely different and unique way.

1. Complementary Characters usually work out best.

This is more than the classic “opposite’s attract” theory, and characters don’t necessarily have to be opposite to be complementary. Some things to think about when thinking of and writing complementary characters:

-Complementary doesn’t necessarily mean complete opposite in every single way. Often times I find it much more helpful to have characters share a common interest in hobbies, upbringing, childhood trauma (that one’s a bit overdone these days), etc. so that they’re not butting heads all the time. Just like yin and yang, theres a bit of darkness in the light and vice versa. To keep the balance harmonious, you can’t have characters be polar opposites and have no common ground. That leads to what many people consider a toxic ship, and will either lead to an unrealistic balance that inevitably leads your characters to be fighting all the time.

-Keeping common interests in mind, often times the paces where character’s contrast is in their personalities. (Shy and bold, heart and head, bubbly and brooding, quiet and gregarious, etc.) Different personalities often are able to balance each other out and hold each other accountable for their weaknesses.

-Going off of that, one character’s strength is another’s weakness, and all traits are both. A character’s empathy can lead them to be loved by many, but may cause them to starve themselves and drain their cup so there’s none left to take care of themselves. A character’s logic may lend them top of class or calm in stressful situations, but can lead them to be insensitive to others and even their own emotions. Your characters should balance each other out and work well together, and part of this is helping each other grow from their weakness.

-This one isn't as important, but what I also find super compelling, especially in film and tv shows is when the authors/writers deliberately choose to give the characters complementary color palettes. (I dove more into this on my Kataang analysis so go read that if you’re super interested.) If the character’s look ascetically pleasing together, it makes shipping them a whole lot easier. Focus on orange and blue, yellow and purple, red and green, and any variation of those colors together.

2. Buildup

Often times one of the biggest critiques of ships that just don’t work out is that there’s not enough buildup or foundation to have a romantic relationship. It seems obvious, but if you’re going to have them end up together, there’s going to need to be some buildup or else the entire relationship will feel wrong and contrived no matter how pleasant you make it.

Some tips for increasing and establishing buildup:

-Have your otp spend time together as friends first. I personally find that the healthiest and most successful ships are friends before they’re lovers. This is why Kataang specifically works so well, but Korrasami, Romionie, and Liesel and Rudy from the Book Thief are all good examples. If you observe these ships, all of these characters spend time together as friends first. Korra and Asami were able to bond and become friends over a toxic guy (cough cough MAKO) and eventually developed feelings for one another. Ron and Hermione weren’t romantically interested in other people and were friends until they started seeing other people and found out they liked each other. Liesel and Rudy were best friends before anything else and Liesel didn’t realize her feelings until it was too late.

-Time together. When your otp spends time together, make sure that whatever time is being spent together is time that they both enjoy. No, the activity itself doesn’t have to be enjoyable to both characters, but the time spent together should be. If the characters really aren’t enjoying the time spent together, then it’s never gonna work out. I’ll use the ship that I’m writing as an example. Currently, I’m in the process of writing a third atlas series and we’ll use my characters Liang and Hana. (Yea I used my own name for one of my characters. I think it suits her bc she’s basically my clone, just, she’s the avatar. I’m going to change both of their names once I do more research and can find culturally and historically accurate names.) Liang REALLY loves pro-bending matches. Hana, not so much. She still goes with him to see matches and attends his matches when she can. On the flip side, Hana really loves going to her favorite tea shop. Liang vastly prefers a strong cup of coffee, but he goes with her anyways. Why would they choose to do something that they don’t necessarily like? Because that’s more quality time spent with each other and doing something for the other person.

3. Romantic Gestures

Going off of my last point, we have the art of romantic gestures. These can range to things anywhere from a hug, to an elaborate firework display, to a locket with both of their pictures in it. Make sure that the romantic gestures are there! It’s gotta be clear that both characters are thinking about one another and consciously choose to do something for the other person. Here are some fun ways to do it:

-Remembering a gift the other character wanted. This one’s cliche but it works, because often times the best way to show affection is through physical gifts and objects. Think coffee from a favorite shop, handwritten notes, that piece of clothing the other has been eyeing, etc.

-~symbolism~ *add chime here* By that I mean have an object to symbolize their relationship with, like Korrasami’s iconic hair pin or Liesel’s book that Rudy retrieved for her. This way, the readers not only have a visual representation of their favorite ships, but the object can physically link characters together and make a vague relationship full cannon. (I know for sure that someday when I get a tattoo, I want the hairpin tattooed on my wrist, ankle or side of my body.)

-PDAs. Works best in film and visual stuff, but still applies for everything. I’m talking cuddles, kisses, falling asleep in each other’s arms, the whole shebang. I mean how much clearer can you make it than a pda?

-Love languages. Each person loves in their own unique way. Have characters figure out and learn each other’s love language. It really shows and adds a whole other layer to the cake. This one can make a ship that feels a little bland have more depth and realism, because in the real world, healthy relationships are formed and aided by learning and applying each other’s love language.

4. Dialogue. This one can be hard to master, but once you do, it’s a breeze. First off, I recommend getting all your ideas out, and editing. DON’T EDIT AS YOU GO! This is often tedious and super annoying, so get everything out first, and go from there once you have a decent amount to work with. Dialogue is tricky, because dialogue in and of itself is meant to communicate and express feelings. Here are some tips and steps to at least get a start:

a. Know EXACTLY how your characters feel about one another, and make that evident through communication. It seems obvious (again) but this really helps and I find that putting myself in the character’s shoes for a second and really thinking about it helps to decide exactly what they would say in a given situation, especially if the scene you’re writing involves confrontation about feelings for one another.

b. Dialogue is more than just talking. Body language, tone, facial expressions, etc. are all part of dialogue too and are SUPER important! In the real world, humans communicate through more than just words, and sometimes a playful grin, grimace, crossed arms, or pout is much more effective than a character outright saying something.

c. Once you’ve written the dialogue out, be concise and smart about your dialogue and pare it down as much as you can. Often times, adding too much dialogue can make a scene boring and flat. Use your words sparingly! The purpose of writing is to covey a story or message and often times this can be done effectively with less words rather than more. The main point in dialogue itself is to provide necessary context and information. Otherwise, don’t use it.

d. Make sure the conversation is two sided. This (say it with me now) SEEMS OBVIOUS, but make sure that both people are talking/communicating. it’s a conversation, not a speech. (Unless it is a speech or declaration of some sort.)

Before I go: A QUICK (Long) PSA ON TOXIC SHIPS:

The concept of a toxic ship is very common in a lot of literature. Often times writers choose to include elements that may be toxic to heighten romantic tension in a story. While I do recognize that this sometimes may be a stylistic choice, there are MUCH better and effective ways to create tension that having something be toxic. Toxic relationships in my opinion share one purpose, and that is to establish a relationship’s toxicity and ineffectiveness. I don’t recommend writing these into a story unless it’s an obstacle for your characters to overcome, and having a character forgive the toxic actions of another character and still end up with them isn’t the right move because it completely disregards and diminishes the effects of what happened previously.

One of the best examples I can think of is Reylo from the new sw trilogy. I did touch on this briefly in a couple of my earlier posts (The Effect Of Modern Day SW characters and My Tips for Writing (In General) which I highly suggest you go read bc they both took me a bit of time and state the purpose more in depth) but I think I’ll quick reiterate and say that it wasn’t a good choice on the writer’s part to have some of the dialogue be so intense and vicious and then have them end up together. I still like the idea of Ben Solo and Rey together and ship them together out of cannon, but in cannon, it’s the perfect example of an ineffective ship. There was little to no build up, the dialogue was often spiteful and sharp, and it escalated a bit too quickly. I would’ve liked to see more of Ben Solo (NOT Kylo) and him feeling sorry for and repenting for the bad that he’s done before he and Rey end up together. Yes, we’re all suckers for the enemies to lovers trope, but PLEASE make sure to filter out the toxins before boarding your ships and watching them sail.

That’s it for now! I hope this helps a little when writing shippable characters! I’m always free to rant to and to critique. I’m going to start posting as much as I can, because these guides help me too! Check out my other ones if you’d like to know tips for writing in general and I made another one on how to write characters.

#writing #writing tips #writing tingz

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