#Edit: GUESS WHAT CARD SHOWED UP HOURS AFTER POSTING. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iamquiantrelle · 3 months ago

Text

PLAYING FOR KEEPS (chapter 3)──────iamquaintrelle

⌗ pairing : jules koundé x black oc

⌗ tags : @irishmanwhore @lettersofgold @deonn-jaelle @sucredreamer @greedyjudge2 @f1-football-fiend @2serenity0 @peyiswriting @coffeevacation @sunfairyy @muglermami @bbgkoo @127hydrangeas @enretrogue @cranberryjulce @julescpu @kj77 @hopefulromantic1

⌗ summary : jules is focused on himself — no girlfriend, no drama — but now he seems to have both after pictures of him having fun at a friend's house party shows up in tabloids, and now fashion houses are calling for him? and his agent wants him to keep up this charade? ♡ masterlist. (✨💕)

The Louis Vuitton store at Galeries Lafayette felt different after Barcelona. Mila adjusted her outfit - a reconstructed piece from the latest collection that she'd modified into something actually wearable, turning the denim monogram print jacket into a crop with strategic cutouts and pairing it with the matching denim pants. Let the brand try to complain now that she was trending.

The weekend had been surreal. Jules was different behind closed doors - quieter, funnier, weirdly good at card games. They'd fallen into an easy rhythm of morning workouts and late-night conversations. Their "couple content" had been effortless - coffee runs, lunches, and one particularly viral video of them arguing about his sneaker collection that had their comments flooded with heart eyes.

Less than a day back in Paris and the gossip blogs were wild. The "blind items" about her were getting ridiculous - she was a secret heiress, an undercover model, a plant from a rival team to distract Jules before his big match this weekend. Everyone was speculating if she'd show up to support him. His ex was still watching every single story despite unfollowing her, which was giving obsessed ex-girlfriend energy. Even Jules had noticed.

The ex situation was getting weirder by the hour, however. Not only was she watching stories, but her friends were now popping up in Mila's DMs trying to be subtle about fishing for information. Some fashion blogs had done a whole comparison post of their styles, trying to find similarities in what Jules was "attracted" to. The internet really had too much time on their hands.

"they're saying you're an heiress now?" his text lit up her phone.

"apparently I'm rich and mysterious," she replied. "try to keep up with your fake girlfriend's backstory."

Jules (Da Boo): guess that explains the expensive taste.

LV’s Meanest Stylist: please, you like that I'm high maintenance.

"Mila, your one o'clock is here," her coworker called out.

She looked up to find Levi Colwill already reaching for the monogram duffle that every footballer seemed to own. Even Jules had one, though she'd bullied him into the limited edition version. Levi was exactly what you'd expect from a young defender - tall, built like a Greek god, designer sweatsuit. His style was still in that new-money footballer phase, like he was buying everything with a visible logo just because he could.

"Is it true you're dating Koundé?"

"That's what the internet says." She moved to help him, already pulling better options. These boys were too predictable.

"Jules' girl, huh?" He was examining a wallet now. "Man's been different lately. Actually smiling at training."

"Are you here to shop or gossip?" She texted Jules while Levi glanced at various pieces: "your boy Colwill is fishing for tea."

"Both, actually," he said, his hands landing back to that Godforsaken duffle.

Jules replied instantly: "tell him to focus on his own love life."

"Not falling for it," she told Levi, who was definitely trying to get more details. "But you are falling for that basic duffle, which is honestly worse."

Her phone buzzed again. Jules: "he's probably gonna pull game on you 😂"

LV’s Meanest Stylist: oh? interesting. and look who’s texting me a lot. missing me already?

Jules (Da Boo): whatever. 🙄 i’m just making sure you hadn't exposed my skincare routine to your followers.

Levi pulled on a jacket that actually worked. "So about Jules..."

"So about this jacket," she countered, adjusting the sleeve. "Much better than that duffle you were eyeing. Unless you want to twin with every other footballer in Paris?"

"Including Jules?"

"You're really committed to this gossip mission, huh?" She pulled out a few more pieces for him to try on. "Did your teammates send you to investigate?"

"Maybe." Levi grinned, caught out. "They've got a betting pool going about whether you'll show up to his match this weekend."

Another text from Jules: "please tell me you didn't let him buy that basic duffle."

"give me some credit," she typed back. "already got him into the new collection. Chelsea boys are nosy af btw."

"What's the betting pool up to?" she asked Levi, who was now actually paying attention to the pieces she'd selected.

"Enough to make it worth telling me if you're coming to the match."

"Nice try." She started ringing up his purchases - none of which included that tragic duffle. "But I don't leak information to the opposition."

Her phone lit up again.

Jules (Da Boo): "they're really out here trying to spy on my love life through luxury shopping."

LV’s Meanest Stylist: don't worry babe, your secrets are safe with your fake girlfriend 😘

*******************************************

Lunch had been a sad salad affair while catching up on a week's worth of client emails. Her coworkers kept "casually" dropping by her station, fishing for details about Barcelona. The store's security had to turn away three different paparazzi trying to get shots of "Jules Koundé's girlfriend at work."

"Mila. Office. Now."

Her manager, Philippe, was wearing his serious face - the one he usually saved for customers who tried to return obviously fake bags. She followed him in, already counting the sales numbers in her head from the past week.

He stared at her reconstructed jacket first, mouth twitching like he wanted to start there. But apparently bigger issues were on his mind.

"Corporate called about your situation with Koundé."

"Is there a problem?"

"They're thrilled actually." He sounded like this physically pained him. "Sales are up. Social media engagement is through the roof."

"That's good, right?"

"It's..." he shuffled some papers on his desk, "unexpected. But I need you to remember this is still Louis Vuitton. We have standards to maintain."

Mila bit back a smile. "Of course."

"Just because corporate is excited about your... personal life going viral—"

"Our numbers have doubled since last week."

"Still." He straightened his tie. "Try to keep some separation between work and your... relationship."

She thought about the five influencers yesterday who'd bought everything she'd worn in stories with Jules. About the waitlist growing for pieces she'd reconstructed. "Absolutely. Totally separate."

The Metro was packed on her way home to the 11th. Her head stylist salary meant she could afford a decent spot near Bastille, even if it came with a third-floor walk-up. Two people definitely recognized her - she caught them trying to sneak photos.

Another buzz of her phone - a text from Jules: "eaten yet?"

LV’s Meanest Stylist: had a little something, but i had a fun meeting with philippe today.

Jules (Da Boo): your manager still mad about the sales boost?

LV’s Meanest Stylist: more like mad that corporate loves it. he had to pretend to be happy while telling me to keep things professional.

Jules (Da Boo): he’s a big hater 😆

She started the climb up to her apartment, cursing Paris's hatred of elevators. At least her place was still normal. Small, full of fabric scraps and design sketches, absolutely nothing like Jules' minimalist palace in Barcelona. The couch was covered in reconstructed pieces she'd been working on before this whole fake dating circus started.

Now, sprawled on her couch in leggings and an oversized t-shirt, Mila scrolled through an endless stream of notifications. Her tiny apartment was her sanctuary - the view wasn't much, just a typical Parisian courtyard, but it was still decent.

Her phone rung with a FaceTime request from Jules.

He was stretched out on his couch too, locs falling perfectly around his face like he was in some kind of high fashion editorial. The golden hour light in Barcelona hitting all his facial features just right.

"You look comfortable," he said, taking in her current state.

"You look like you're posing for Vogue." She propped her phone against a pile of sketches. "Bruno's influence?"

"Please. This is natural talent." He shifted, and she caught glimpse of his own off-duty fit - simple white tank that showed off exactly why footballers could charge so much for sponsored posts. "Bruno's been blowing up my phone about the Young Boys match."

"Here we go."

"The whole internet's speculating if you'll be there."

"The whole internet still needs to mind their business."

"It's an easy game," he pressed. "Perfect timing too, right after the gala."

"Watching you play against Swiss teams wasn't part of the deal."

"No, but making our fake relationship look real was." His smile was unfair through the phone screen. "What's more real than supporting your man at work?"

"My man?" She raised an eyebrow. "Getting extremely comfortable with the role, aren't you?"

"Method acting. Very serious about my craft." He sat up slightly, tank shifting in ways she refused to notice. "Come on. I'll even let you roast my warm-up kit."

"Let me? Like you could stop me." But she was smiling now. "I'll think about it."

"That's not a no."

"It's not a yes either." Mila shifted through her sketches. "Some of us have actual work to do, unlike certain footballers who just kick balls for a living."

"Says the girl who spends her day telling rich people their bags are fake."

"Someone has to maintain standards." She held up a sketch to the camera. "Like these gala fits I'm working on. Your usual style choices can't be trusted for our first official appearance."

"My style choices brought you into my life, didn't they?"

"Your tragic style choices gave me content for my blog." But she was grinning. "Now they're giving me gray hairs."

Jules adjusted his position. "The internet thinks you're my personal stylist now."

"The internet thinks I'm everything from an heiress to a spy." She started pinning fabric samples to her sketches. "Your ex's friends are still in my DMs by the way."

"Still?"

"Mhmm. Very interested in our weekend activities." She glanced at him through the screen. "Your ex must be devastated that you upgraded."

"Upgraded to someone who bullies me about my shoes?"

"Upgraded to someone who saves you from yourself." She paused. "Also your ex's style is basic. All Gucci everything? In 2024?"

Jules laughed, the sound doing things to her stomach. "You really have opinions about everyone's fashion choices."

"Only the bad ones." She switched cameras to show him her work table. "These are coming together though. The gala won't know what hit them."

"Bruno's going to have opinions."

"Bruno's going to deal with it. I'm not showing up in straight-off-the-rack anything." She flipped the camera back. "Plus, you like when I reconstruct pieces."

"I like when you're not roasting me."

"Lies. You live for my commentary." She caught his smile through the screen. "Your teammates confirmed it."

"My teammates need to mind their business too." He ran a hand through his locs. "Though if you came to the match, you could tell them yourself."

"Smooth transition back to that topic."

"I'm persistent." His eyes caught hers through the screen. "Come watch me play. I'll score for you."

"Bold promise for someone who plays defense."

"You've been studying football?"

"I've been studying you." The words slipped out before she could catch them.

The silence held for a beat too long, charged with something neither of them was ready to name.

"More market research for your role?" His voice was lower now.

"Method acting. Very serious about my craft." She threw his words back at him.

Another silence, heavy with possibilities they weren't supposed to be considering.

"Your ex is really getting on my nerves though," she said finally, breaking whatever moment was building.

"You're obsessed with my ex."

"Your ex is obsessed with me. I'm just taking notes." She shifted some fabric around. "Did she always watch this many stories?"

"Never dated anyone who posted enough to find out."

"So I'm special?"

"You're something." His smile was soft now. Different from his Instagram version.

Mila's phone buzzed with another notification. Probably Bruno with more gala details. Or another gossip blog with theories about their relationship. Or Philippe with more concerns about professionalism.

"You should sleep," she said, noting the darkening sky in Barcelona. "Early training tomorrow."

"You should say yes to the match."

"You should stop pushing your luck."

"Never." He adjusted his position again, all casual grace. "Think about it though? For real?"

"Go to sleep, Jules."

"That's still not a no."

She ended the call before he could see her smile. Her phone immediately lit up with a text from him: "sweet dreams, fake girlfriend 😘"

"don't make me block you," she sent back.

"you'd miss my tragic style choices."

She looked at her sketches for their gala outfits, then at the pile of notifications about the upcoming match. This fake relationship was getting dangerously comfortable.

Her phone buzzed one more time: "also I'm wearing those Balenciagas you hate tomorrow just to spite you"

Maybe comfortable wasn't the right word.

Mila ignored how her cheeks hurt from smiling too much. Her phone kept lighting up with his texts, each one more deliberately annoying than the last. She'd created a monster with all this fashion commentary.

The Barcelona charity gala proved exactly why she was right about their outfits. Her reconstructed LV pieces turned heads the moment they walked in - Jules in a sleek black suit with monogram details that only showed when he moved, her in a dress that made Vogue write a whole article about "the future of luxury reconstruction." The venue was stunning, all high ceilings and modern art, filled with football royalty trying their best at black tie fashion.

Bruno nearly had an aneurysm when they first arrived, but even he had to admit they'd stolen the show. Jules kept his hand on her lower back all night, leaning in to whisper commentary about his teammates' attempts at formal wear. They played their roles perfectly - the fashion-forward power couple, the defender and his brutally honest stylist. Every fashion house in attendance had someone slip her a business card. By the end of the night, no one remembered it was supposed to be fake.

Which is probably how she ended up here the very next day, at the Camp Nou, wearing a vintage Barcelona jersey Jules had "casually" sent her along with a limited edition LV bag she definitely wasn't supposed to have access to yet. She'd paired it with an LV skort and burgundy leather trench, because if she had to do team colors, she'd do them her way. The bag was just gilding the lily, but it worked. Of course it worked.

The stadium was massive, nothing like watching matches on TV. Her seat was in the VIP section, surrounded by other WAGs who definitely hadn't expected Louis Vuitton's meanest stylist to show up in team merch and thigh-high boots. But Jules had texted her that morning: "wear the jersey. it'll drive everyone crazy."

He wasn't wrong.

The WAG section was full of whispers and not-so-subtle photos of her outfit. Jules hadn't seen her yet - they were warming up on the pitch, all focus and match-day energy.

The match kicked off and suddenly Mila understood why people lost their minds over this sport. On TV, she could barely track Jules. Here, she couldn't take her eyes off him. The way he read the game, anticipated plays, and moved with precision reminded her of the careful way she arranged his closet after reorganizing it.

Young Boys scored first - some lucky break that had the crowd holding its breath. But then Barcelona's attack kicked in, and suddenly it was raining goals. 5-2 didn't even tell the whole story. Jules had been everywhere, breaking up plays, starting counterattacks.

"Your boy's having a game," some WAG next to her said after Jules made a particularly clean tackle. Mila just smiled, and then noticed that his socks were slightly different lengths.

The final whistle brought chaos - good chaos, victory chaos. The kind that had everyone in the VIP section heading for the family area, designer bags swinging. Mila followed the crowd, her new LV bag probably the only one that wasn't actually out yet.

She spotted him before he saw her. Fresh from the showers, locs still damp, wearing the team's post-match tracksuit that somehow didn't look tragic on him. He was talking to someone with a camera - probably post-match interviews.

Then he caught sight of her.

The way his face lit up wasn't for the cameras. Neither was the way he broke off mid-sentence to walk toward her, but the way he pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her cheek? That was definitely for show.

Except his lips lingered a beat too long, and his hand on her waist felt a little too natural, and maybe some of this wasn't entirely for the cameras anymore.

"You came," he murmured against her ear.

"You bribed me with unreleased merchandise." She kept her smile camera-ready. "Very unethical of you."

"Says the girl wearing my jersey."

"Your vintage jersey. There's a difference."

His laugh was genuine, even if their pose was practiced. Cameras clicked around them, probably catching what looked like an intimate moment between Barcelona's star defender and his fashion-forward girlfriend.

"The socks were uneven," she told him, just to maintain their dynamic.

"You actually watched my feet?"

"Of course I did."

He pulled back just enough to look at her, that smile that wasn't for Instagram making her stomach do things it definitely shouldn't. "Dinner? Team's celebrating but we could—"

"Go with your team." She adjusted his hoodie, knowing the cameras would eat it up. "I have an early flight anyway."

"Stay." His voice was low, just for her. "I'll make it worth your while."

"Another bag?"

"Better." His grin was dangerous. "I'll let you plan my outfits for the week."

She laughed despite herself. "Tempting, but I have a job to get back to."

More players were filing into the family area now, some with kids, others with WAGs who definitely noticed Mila's not-yet-released bag. Jules kept his hand on her waist, thumb tracing small circles that the cameras couldn't see.

"You're coming to the next one, right?" he asked as they posed for another photo.

"Don't push your luck."

But they both knew she would. Just like they both knew this was slowly starting to feel less and less fake with every camera flash, every casual touch, every smile that wasn't quite acting anymore.

"Your car's here," he said, checking his phone. "I had Bruno arrange it."

"Always taking care of your fake girlfriend."

"Only the best for Louis Vuitton's meanest stylist."

She reached up to fix his hair, a gesture that looked intimate to observers but was really just her being annoyed at how it was falling. "Go celebrate with your team. Try not to let them dress you for the club."

"You could come make sure they don't."

"Goodnight, Jules."

His kiss on her cheek this time wasn't for the cameras at all. "Text me when you land?"

She waved him off, already planning what she'd say about his uneven socks in their next FaceTime call. The cameras followed her exit, catching what probably looked like a perfect football couple moment.

Her phone buzzed before she even reached the car: "the socks were uneven on purpose. knew you'd notice."

She smiled despite herself. This fake relationship was slowly getting dangerous.

****************************

Mila's post from the match had over 100K likes by the time she got to work the next morning. The comments were a mess: "THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER 😭" "notice how she styled the jersey tho? queen behavior" "that bag isn't even out yet omg the power" "they're actually perfect???"

Jules hadn't helped, reposting her story at the stadium with "merci d'être venue, chérie 🖤❤️" Like he hadn't basically bribed her with that unreleased bag. His teammates had jumped in too, commenting about how he couldn't stop smiling at training.

"Your match photos are trending," Philippe said instead of good morning. "Corporate wants to discuss your social media strategy."

"Corporate loves my social media strategy." She hung her trench on her office door. "The waiting list for my section is three months long now."

Her phone buzzed - Jules had posted a picture from the gala. She looked good, obviously, but it was the way he was looking at her in the photo that had her mentions exploding. The internet was having a field day analyzing their "couple style."

Another text from Jules: "bruno says we're doing too well. wants us to have a public fight to seem more realistic."

LV's Meanest Stylist: your sock choices are horrible.

Jules (Da Boo): that's not the kind of fight he meant

She bit back a smile. Her coworkers were already too invested in their "relationship" - no need to feed the gossip by grinning at her phone all day.

The store was chaos. After her appearance at the Barcelona match, suddenly everyone wanted Mila's opinion on everything. Three influencers tried to book private shopping sessions. Two footballers' wives came in specifically asking for "something like what Jules' girlfriend wears."

"Miss Lawrence, your two o'clock is here," her assistant called out. She'd never had an assistant before the McDonald's photo and now apparently she was hired a couple days ago.

Jules texted between her appointments: "training done. thinking about that kiss" LV's Meanest Stylist: it was on the cheek Jules (Da Boo): still thinking about it

She didn't have time to analyze that. A Saudi princess wanted her entire collection reconstructed. Two fashion houses had left messages about collaboration opportunities. Her phone wouldn't stop buzzing with notifications about her latest photos with Jules.

"hungry? we can facetime..." his text came through around four.

LV's Meanest Stylist: too busy. some of us work for a living. Jules (Da Boo): kicking balls is work 😤 LV's Meanest Stylist: sure it is, babe.

By closing, she was dead on her feet. The rain had started, turning Paris into a blur of lights and wet streets. She dug her umbrella out of her bag, checking her notifications one last time before heading towards the Metro.

That's when she saw it. A DM notification from Siobhan. Jules' ex.

What the fuck is this?

The Metro was packed with the usual post-work crowd, everyone dripping from the rain. Mila tapped her card at the turnstile, eyes fixed on her screen. After two weeks of watching her stories, viewing her posts, having her friends fish for information, Siobhan had finally made a direct move.

The message sat there, deceptively casual: "We should talk. Girl to girl."

Mila's thumb hovered over it as she descended to the platform. She'd seen enough photos of Siobhan to get why people made the comparisons - they had similar features, both brown-skinned beauties with good style, though Siobhan's aesthetic leaned more luxury influencer than fashion critic. The kind of girl who watched her ex's new girlfriend's every move.

Like the fucking weirdo she was...

Her phone buzzed with a text from Jules: "you've gone quiet. tired from all that actual work? 😏"

The unread DM from Siobhan sat there like a challenge. There were a hundred ways this could go wrong. A hundred reasons to ignore it. But Mila hadn't gotten where she was by playing it safe.

She clicked on the message, marking it as read. Time to see what Jules' ex really wanted.

Mila leaned against a pillar on the platform, watching her train's arrival time tick down. No point rushing to respond. Let Jules' ex sit with that read receipt for a minute.

Three dots appeared. Another message: "I know you saw this."

"did you need something?" Mila typed back, channeling her best 'dealing with difficult customers' energy.

@/siobhan_rchm: Just wanted to chat about Jules. Girl to girl.

"Mm." Mila grumbled, watching the dots appear and disappear for a beat before responding. "about what specifically? his uneven socks at the match? the way he organizes his sneakers? his skincare routine?"

A pause. Then: "You think you're cute."

"i know i am. was there something else?"

The train rumbled into the station. Mila stepped on, finding a spot to stand near the door. Her phone buzzed again.

@/siobhan_rchm: Just wanted to warn you about him.

"warn me that he has terrible taste in exes? already figured that out."

More angry dots. Mila smiled to herself. She could do this all day.

@/siobhan_rchm: You don't know him like I do."

"you're right. I actually let him dress himself occasionally."

The train lurched between stations. Siobhan was typing again.

@/siobhan_rchm: He's not as perfect as you think.

"never said he was perfect. his sock choices prove that."

@/siobhan_rchm: I'm trying to be serious.

"and I'm trying to commute. is there a point to this?"

Three dots. Delete. Three dots again. Mila switched to her chat with Jules: "your ex is sliding into my DMs"

His response was instant: "siobhan??"

"unless you have another ex I should know about?"

Back to Siobhan's message: "You think this is all a game but he'll do the same thing to you. Get bored. Move on."

"like posting thirst traps and watching my stories obsessively? that kind of bored?"

@/siobhan_rchm: You don't know what you're talking about.

"and you don't know when to move on. sad either way."

@/siobhan_rchm: Just remember I warned you. When he—"

Mila hit the block button before reading the rest. Some entertainment wasn't worth the effort.

Jules (Da Boo): what's she saying?

LV's Meanest Stylist: nothing worth repeating. your taste before me was questionable.

Jules (Da Boo): says the girl who dragged my sock choices at the match 😒

LV's Meanest Stylist: someone had to. even siobhan agreed about the socks

Jules (Da Boo): you did NOT talk about my socks with my ex

LV's Meanest Stylist: what can I say? it's the only thing we have in common.

The train ride felt longer than usual, Mila's mind stuck on Siobhan's messages. The night crowd was starting to fill the Metro - tourists heading to dinner, students with their backpacks, the usual mix of Paris after dark. She got off at her stop, umbrella ready for the rain that was still coming down.

The walk from the station to her building was quick but just long enough to get properly soaked despite the umbrella. Water dripped from the edges of her trench as she dug out her keys. At least her new LV bag was water resistant - perks of having the unreleased collection.

"I'm sorry about her," Jules texted as Mila climbed the stairs to her apartment. "Let me make it up to you?"

LV's Meanest Stylist: with another unreleased bag?

Jules (Da Boo): better. dinner in barcelona this weekend?

Mila paused on the second floor landing. "you want me to fly out for dinner?"

Jules (Da Boo): i know this place you'd love. very exclusive, very—

LV's Meanest Stylist: very in Barcelona when you could just come to Paris.

Jules (Da Boo): I have training...

LV's Meanest Stylist: and I have a job. a real one. none of that kick the ball bs.

Jules (Da Boo): next weekend then? I'll book Le Jules Verne.

LV's Meanest Stylist: now you're just showing off.

Jules (Da Boo): is it working?

She pushed open her apartment door, dropping her umbrella in the stand. "maybe. but you're still coming to Paris."

Jules (Da Boo): high maintenance.

LV's Meanest Stylist: you knew that when you fake chose me.

A pause, then: "about that..."

Her phone lit up with Jules' incoming call. Not a text this time. That was different.

"Calling to apologize properly?" she answered, kicking off her shoes.

"About what Siobhan said—"

"Already forgotten. Like I just did with her on Instagram."

"You blocked her?"

"Should've done it two weeks ago when she first started creeping." Mila dropped onto her couch. "Why? Want me to unblock your ex?"

"No," he said quickly. "No, it's just... look, about this whole fake thing—"

"Don't tell me you're catching feelings," she kept her voice light, teasing. "All it took was one match attendance?"

But Jules was quiet for a moment too long. The kind of quiet that made her stomach do things it shouldn't.

"Nah..." He scoffed, but something in his voice wasn't quite right. "Never that."

"Good. Wouldn't want this arrangement getting messy."

"Please. I have standards."

"You have those ugly ass Balenciaga crocs."

"We agreed never to speak of those again." The weird tension dissipated, back to their usual rhythm. "So about Paris next weekend..."

"You're really trying to get out of coming here, huh?"

"I just think Barcelona has better restaurants."

"Barcelona has you wrapped around Bruno's PR finger."

His laugh echoed through the phone. "You're actually impossible."

"Part of my charm."

"Besides," Jules said after a moment, "if I come to Paris, you'll make me carry your shopping bags again."

"That's literally what fake boyfriends are for."

"Thought it was for the Instagram engagement."

"That too." She kicked off her heels, settling deeper into her couch. "Though your ex might have opinions about that."

"Can we not talk about Siobhan?"

"Why? Worried she'll tell me all your secrets?"

"You already know all my secrets. You reorganized my closet."

"True. The real skeleton was that sneaker collection and those goddamn socks."

He made a noise of protest. "You're really never going to let that go?"

"Never."

"The socks were a choice."

"A bad one." She paused, then: "Like dating Siobhan?"

"Low blow."

"Someone had to say it."

Another silence, but different this time. She could almost see him running his hand through his locs, the way he did when he was thinking too hard.

"You really blocked her?" he asked finally.

"Should I not have?"

"No, it's... good. It's good."

More weight in those words than there should have been. This conversation was veering too close to something neither of them was ready to name.

"You really have these girls losing their minds," Mila said. "Between Siobhan and your fan pages..."

"Too much BDE. They can't handle it."

She rolled her eyes so hard it probably translated through the phone. "It's not that big," she muttered, mostly to herself.

But of course he caught it. "You can always find out."

"Never."

"Never say never." His voice was all smugness and suggestion.

Mila ignored the way her stomach flipped at his tone. This was exactly the kind of territory they didn't need to explore. Even if his voice was doing things to her that it absolutely shouldn't.

"I'll make a reservation for our dinner next weekend." Back to that practiced confidence.

"Whatever. Bye." She hung up before he could say anything else dangerous.

Her phone lit up immediately with his text: "bonne nuit, chérie ❤️"

She stared at that heart emoji longer than she'd ever admit to anyone.

A week later, Mila's Uber pulled up to the Eiffel Tower. She'd gone with a Dior slip dress because why not, paired with Aquazzura white slingbacks and a beige trench. The kind of outfit that said 'yes, I'm dating a footballer, but I dressed like this before him.'

Le Jules Verne was exactly what you'd expect from a Michelin-starred restaurant in the Eiffel Tower - all understated luxury and views that made even Paris locals pause. The kind of place where no one cared who you were because everyone was someone.

Jules was already at their table, standing as she approached. The bouquet in his hands was ridiculous - white roses and peonies, probably cost more than the dinner would.

"Ah, you shouldn't have," she said, accepting his hug.

"What kind of fake boyfriend would I be?" he murmured against her ear.

"But you really shouldn't have." She pulled back, taking off her trench coat. "They're gonna die in like two days. I have a brown thumb."

Jules pulled out her chair - unnecessarily gallant for a fake date. "You look nice."

"Just nice?" Mila arranged her dress. "You flew to Paris for 'nice'?"

"Beautiful. Stunning. Better?"

"Now you're trying too hard." But she was smiling. "Speaking of trying too hard, that fit is actually decent. Did you dress yourself?"

"Funny." He settled across from her. "But no. Someone reorganized my closet with very specific instructions."

The sommelier appeared with champagne they hadn't ordered. "Compliments of the house."

"The perks of dating a footballer." Mila raised her glass. "Even if it's fake."

"About that…" Jules started, but their server arrived with menus and a long explanation about the night's specials.

"The chef has prepared something special," the server finished.

"Of course he has." Mila caught Jules' eye over her glass. "More perks?"

"Bruno's influence, actually. He has opinions about our first Paris date."

"Opinions about everything except your sock choices."

"Are you ever going to let that go?"

"Never." She studied the menu. "Like I'll never let go of those Balenciaga crocs."

"I told Siobhan to leave us alone," Jules said between sips of champagne. "Well, technically I told her to leave you alone."

Mila shook her head, more intrigued than annoyed. "Your dick must cure diseases."

Jules choked on his champagne, actually coughed.

"You keep talking about my dick like you want to try it." He settled back in his chair, legs spreading, all casual like he'd practiced this move. "Just say the word and we can—"

"I'm gonna stop you there, buddy." She held up her hand. "I'm just saying these girls are acting like your dick cures diseases, is all. No one is thinking about taking a ride on that thing." She said 'thing' like it personally offended her.

Jules just watched her, that smile that said he saw right through her act. "Mmhm."

Their waiter appeared once more, ready to take their order, saving them both from whatever was about to happen next.

"The lamb," Jules told the waiter. "And she'll have—"

"I can order for myself," Mila cut in. "The fish, please."

The waiter disappeared with their menus and Jules' amused smirk. The restaurant buzzed around them, that particular energy of expensive meals and important conversations.

"So," Mila swirled her champagne. "How's training?"

"How's telling rich people how to dress?"

"Deflecting already? Did Siobhan shake you that bad?"

Jules leaned back in his chair. "Just looking out for my fake girlfriend."

"By making your ex block me on everything?" She raised an eyebrow. "I saw her Instagram's gone private too."

"Had to maintain our image."

"Our image needs that much maintenance?"

"Bruno's words, not mine." He took another sip of champagne. "Though the flowers were my idea."

"Ah yes, the dying flowers. Very thoughtful."

The first course arrived - something fancy with foam. Jules watched her taste it, that same look he had when she'd criticized his sneaker collection.

"You're staring."

"You have…" He gestured to her lip.

She wiped at nothing, knowing he was just messing with her. "Very mature." Mila sampled more of whatever was on her plate. "This is actually good."

"Better than McDonald's at two in the morning?"

"Nothing's better than that." She caught his smile. "Though this view comes close."

"Paris showing off for us."

"For you, maybe. I live here."

"And yet you've never been to Jules Verne before."

"Some of us don't make footballer money." She set down her fork. "Speaking of money, how much did you have to pay Siobhan to back off?"

"Just my eternal soul and first-born child."

"Reasonable price."

The main course appeared - her fish arranged like art, his lamb perfectly cooked. The waiter poured wine that definitely wasn't on the regular menu.

"Bruno's going to love the bill from this," Mila noted.

"Worth it for the content." Jules cut into his lamb. "Though we could give him better content."

"If you're about to suggest something inappropriate—"

"Just saying, the whole 'will they, won't they' thing is working for our engagement numbers."

Mila pointed her fork at him. "No one is engaging with your numbers."

"That's not what you said about my BDE earlier."

"I take it back. All of it." But she was fighting a smile. "Your ego needs no encouragement."

"Too late." He was doing that thing with his eyes again, the one that probably worked on everyone else. "You're already on record about my—"

"If you say dick energy one more time at this nice establishment, I'm leaving."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

Their eyes locked across the table. A challenge, maybe. Or something else neither of them was ready to name.

The waiter appeared with dessert menus, breaking whatever moment was building. Jules took his with a smile that was almost too casual.

"Should we share?" he asked.

"In your dreams."

"Often."

Mila kicked him under the table, right as the waiter returned. "He'll have the chocolate thing. I want the one with strawberries."

"Separate desserts?" The waiter looked between them. "Most couples share—"

"We're not most couples." Mila's smile was sweet but final.

Jules watched the waiter leave, that smirk back on his face. "No, we're definitely not."

The desserts arrived looking more like art installations than food. Mila caught Jules' eyes drifting to her neckline again - the third time since their main course.

"Stare harder why don't you?"

"I'm trying." He didn't even pretend to look away.

"Horndog." But she adjusted the strap of her dress anyway, watching his eyes track the movement.

"Can't help it. The dress is…"

"Expensive? Designer?"

"Both." He sampled his chocolate dessert, still watching her. "Though I was going to say dangerous."

"Please. This is modest for me." She tasted her strawberry creation. "You should see what I wear when I'm actually trying."

"Is that an invitation?"

"It's a warning." She pointed her spoon at him. "Your game's weak if you think this neckline is dangerous."

"My game's never weak."

"But you needed a McDonald's photo to go viral before making a move."

"I didn't make a move." He leaned back, all casual confidence again. "Bruno did."

"Tragic." She stole a bite of his dessert just to prove she could. "Using your agent as an excuse."

"Using my agent for business." His eyes dropped to her lips as she licked chocolate from her spoon. "This is pleasure."

"This is a fake date."

"With real dessert." He pushed his plate closer to her. "Want more?"

"Trying to sweeten me up?"

"Is it working?"

She took another bite of his dessert, maintaining eye contact just to watch him squirm. "You wish."

The waiter appeared with their bill - or rather, with no bill at all because apparently Jules had handled that hours ago. Of course he had.

"Very presumptuous," Mila noted as they stood. "What if I hated dinner?"

"You loved it." He helped her with her coat, fingers brushing her bare shoulders. "Even if you won't admit it."

"I admit nothing."

"Your empty plates admit plenty."

Outside, Paris was still showing off - all lights and early autumn beauty. Jules' hand found her lower back as they waited for their cars.

"This was nice," he said, too close to her ear.

"Just nice?"

"Beautiful. Stunning. Better?"

"Now you're recycling lines." But she didn't move away.

His car arrived first - some sleek thing that probably cost more than her annual salary. He opened the door but paused before getting in.

"Next time dinner's in Barcelona."

"Next time?"

"Can't let my fake girlfriend think I'm cheap."

"Too late for that. Your sock choices gave you away."

His laugh echoed even after his car pulled away. Her phone lit up immediately with his text:

Jules (Da Boo): already planning your outfit for barcelona?

LV's Meanest Stylist: planning how to roast whatever you wear.

Jules (Da Boo): worth it

********************************************

"The cheek kisses aren't cutting it anymore," Bruno's voice crackled through Mila's phone. "We need to up the ante."

"Up the ante?" Mila was packing for Barcelona, phone balanced between ear and shoulder. "What exactly do you want us to do, stick our tongues down each other's throats?"

"If that's what it takes—"

"The audacity." She dropped a reconstructed LV piece into her suitcase. "Who are you, our relationship choreographer?"

"The internet's getting restless. They want more."

"The internet needs therapy." But she knew what he meant. The comments were getting wild - theories about their relationship, demands for more content, the kind of attention that made her DMs look like a thirst trap comment section.

Three days later, she was walking through Barcelona's airport arrivals, spotting Jules before he saw her. He was trying to be incognito in a baseball cap and sunglasses, looking exactly like every footballer trying not to be recognized.

"Subtle," she said, reaching him.

"Says the girl in that dress." His eyes tracked over her travel fit - another slip dress because why not torture him a little.

"This old thing?" She let him take her bag. "Just something I threw on."

The Urus was parked illegally because of course it was. Jules loaded her suitcase while she settled into the passenger seat, already plotting how to reorganize his closet again.

"How was the flight?"

"Better than this car choice."

"Still judging my Urus?"

"Always." She pulled out her phone. "Though apparently I need new material. Bruno's orders."

"Heard about that call." He navigated through Barcelona traffic with one hand on the wheel. "No more roasting my fashion choices?"

"Or your ex."

"Tragic. Those were your best bits."

"Please. Everything I do is a best bit."

His laugh filled the car. Match 100 was tomorrow, and here they were, playing house again. At least this time she knew what she was getting into.

"So about Bruno's demands," Jules said, turning onto his street. "Think we should practice?"

"Practice what? Swapping spit for the cameras?" Mila fake gagged, but her heart wasn't in it.

"Could be worse assignments."

"Could be better ones too."

"You wound me." He pulled into his driveway. "Little birdie told me that Chanel's trying to steal you."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure is, and LV can suck my dick and jiggle my left testicle."

Jules let out a chuckle. "Damn, remind me to never get on your bad side. What happened at work?" She just stared at him blankly. "Philippe again?" His jaw tightened. "Should I give him a visit?"

"And do what exactly?"

Jules shrugged, but his grip on the steering wheel said otherwise. "I don't know. Tell him to leave my woman alone. Threaten him?"

"Whatever, Jules."

"I'm serious."

"Be so fucking for real right now."

"I'm so serious, Mila. He got the wrong one." His knuckles went white on the wheel.

Mila caught herself watching those hands, that tension in his jaw. Something about his willingness to protect her - fake relationship or not - was doing things to her pussy she refused to acknowledge.

The opportunities were piling up lately. Fashion houses sliding into her DMs. Offers to branch out on her own. She could do it - build her own brand, be an independent designer like she'd dreamed. Or worse… become an influencer. The thought alone made her want to gag. Though being a freelance stylist had potential.

"Mila." Jules was watching her, that look that saw too much. "You good?"

"Just plotting my escape from corporate hell."

"To Chanel?"

"Maybe." She stretched, knowing exactly what that did to her dress. "Or maybe I'll just become your full-time fake girlfriend. Seems less stressful."

*************************

"Your closet better be exactly how I left it," Mila said as they entered his house. "I'm not doing another intervention with your sneakers."

"Haven't touched anything." Jules carried her bag upstairs. "Too scared of your wrath."

"Smart man." She followed him to the guest room - her room now, basically. Her reconstructed pieces from last time still hung in the closet. "Though we need to talk about that jacket you wore to training yesterday."

"Thought you needed new material?"

"Some crimes can't be ignored."

He dropped her bag by the bed, lingering in the doorway. "Hungry?"

"Depends. Are you cooking?"

"God no. Ordered from that place you liked last time."

"The one with the pasta?"

"The one where you stole half my dinner, yes."

She kicked off her shoes, making herself at home. "It's not stealing if you let me."

"Is that what we're calling it?"

"That's what I'm calling it." She started unpacking, aware of him watching. "Don't you have a big match to rest for?"

"Don't you have a closet to reorganize?"

"Your closet can wait until tomorrow." She pulled out her outfit for the match. "This, however, needs steaming."

"Another reconstruction?"

"What else would I wear to your hundredth match?" She held up the piece - another LV remix that would probably give Philippe an aneurysm. "Think Bruno will approve?"

"Bruno would approve if you wore a trash bag at this point." Jules pushed off the doorframe. "He's desperate for content."

"Hence the kissing demands?"

"Hence everything." He watched her hang up the outfit. "Though the kissing thing…"

"Don't."

"Just saying, might need practice."

"In your dreams."

"Often." He ducked the shoe she threw at him. "Dinner's in twenty."

She waited until his footsteps faded before pulling out her phone. Three texts from Siobhan's friends, still trying to get intel. Two emails from Chanel about possible collaborations.

A new text from Jules: "brought you wine from that vineyard you pretended not to like"

Interesting...

Mila came downstairs to H.E.R. playing softly in the background. Jules was at the kitchen island, uncorking wine like this was totally normal.

"Are you trying to get at something?" She took in the dim lighting, the music, the actual fucking candles. What was this man up to?

"Just trying to relax," he said simply, holding out a glass of wine.

"Mmhm." She accepted the glass, watching him plate their food with way too much care before sliding it in front of her.

"Bonne app��tit." He settled next to her at the island.

They ate in silence for a few beats before Mila couldn't take it anymore. "Seriously, what're you doing Jules?"

He had the nerve to shrug. "I told you I'm just trying to relax. Big match tomorrow, remember?"

"You're giving out too much game right now. You think I'm dumb?"

"No, Mila, you're far from dumb."

"So what's the play?" She set her napkin down, fixing him with that look she usually reserved for customers trying to play in her face. "What's going on because since when do we have this setup if we're fake—"

Her words cut off as Jules leaned over, pressing his lips to hers. He tasted like eggplant parmesan and wine, and despite herself, she sighed into it. His hands came up to cup her face, lips moving against hers with a precision that shouldn't have surprised her but did. Boy knew what he was doing with that mouth - the same confidence he had on the pitch but softer, more deliberate.

When he pulled back, Mila's brain took a second to come back online.

"What the hell?" she mumbled.

"Practice, right?" His voice was too casual for someone who just kissed her like that.

She blinked, tilting her head. "Bruno wanted us to have more PDA…"

"Oh, yeah." His thumb brushed her cheek where his hand still lingered.

"Was it good?"

Was it? Her mind screamed. But what came out was: "It was alright."

"Alright? Shit, Mila maybe I have to convince you again."

"Please don't." But her eyes dropped to his lips.

"Just a quick one." He leaned closer. "For research."

"No." She didn't move away.

"It's quick…" His mouth was already brushing hers. "For research."

This kiss wasn't quick at all. His hand slid into her hair, angling her head just right. She might have made a sound - something embarrassing she'd deny later - when his tongue traced her bottom lip. This wasn't practice anymore. This wasn't fake anything.

When they finally broke apart, the food was definitely cold.

******************************************

The absolute audacity of this man.

Mila spent the entire match trying not to think about that kiss. Those kisses. Multiple kisses that definitely weren't just "practice." She'd even texted Leon - her most reliable situation-handler - but he was "busy." All her usual distractions were unavailable, leaving her stuck with the memory of Jules' mouth and what his hands had felt like in her hair.

Barcelona was destroying Sevilla, which wasn't helping. Every time Jules made a play, the crowd lost it. Five goals, and he'd been involved in three of them. Show-off.

Then came the post-match ceremony. His hundredth game plaque, the crowd chanting his name, cameras everywhere. And this man - this absolute menace - had the nerve to call her down to the pitch.

"Come here, chérie," he said into the mic, and what was she supposed to do? Say no in front of 90,000 people?

She made her way down, reconstructed LV dress definitely not made for stadium stairs. The cameras were already going crazy, probably catching her "supportive girlfriend" moment.

Then this fucker kissed her. Not a peck, not a casual press of lips. A proper kiss, right there on the pitch, his plaque in one hand while the other pulled her close. The crowd absolutely lost it.

When he finally let her go, she was too disoriented to even pretend to be mad. The cameras caught everything - her slightly dazed expression, his satisfied smirk, the way she had to steady herself on his arm.

"For the cameras," he murmured in her ear as they posed with his plaque.

"I hate you," she whispered back, perfect smile in place.

"No you don't."

The worst part? He was right.

Her phone was already blowing up. The notifications would be insane - fashion blogs, football accounts, probably Bruno having a meltdown about their "organic PDA moment." But all she could think about was how she needed to call every single one of her rotation guys because this tension? Unacceptable.

"Dinner?" Jules asked as they left the pitch, still riding his match high.

"I have plans."

"No you don't."

"I could have plans."

His smile was dangerous. "But you don't."

The cameras were still catching everything - her pretend annoyance, his hand on her lower back, the way they moved together like this wasn't all for show.

"One dinner," he said.

"You already got your kiss for the cameras."

"Maybe I want another one."

She really needed to call Leon. Or Jean. Or both.

The family area was chaos. Mila scrolled through Twitter while waiting for Jules, watching their kiss go viral in real time.

"THE WAY SHE HAD TO STEADY HERSELF 😭" "that man must kiss like he plays football - elite" "did y'all see her face after??? HELLO???" "mila lawrence found SHOOK" "the way he just grabbed her like that i'm—"

Someone had already made an edit set to "Kiss Me More" - her dazed expression on loop, Jules looking too pleased with himself. The engagement numbers were insane. Bruno was probably having heart palpitations of joy.

More tweets kept coming: "jules koundé said watch me score off the pitch too" "miss mila really won" "the grip he has on her waist i'm studying it respectfully"

Her phone buzzed with texts from every single one of her situationship guys.

"You're trending," Jules' voice came from behind her. Fresh from the shower, hair still damp, wearing that post-match designer fit that actually worked for once. "Something about being 'dicked down by Barcelona's finest defender'?"

"That's disgusting." She kept scrolling. "Also inaccurate."

"Could be accurate."

"In your dreams."

"Maybe it can be reality?" He leaned over her shoulder, reading more tweets. "They're really analyzing your face in 4K."

"Your fans are unhinged."

"Our fans now."

Their eyes met in the reflection of her phone screen. That tension from last night was still there, crackling between them like static electricity.

"Dinner?" he asked again.

"I really do have plans."

"With who? Leon?" His smile was knowing. "Already saw his stories. He's in London."

"I have other options." Like Jean, like Gabriel, like Muhammad...

"But you're here with me and you're gonna stay."

The worst part was he was right. Again. Motherfucker.

"Fine." She locked her phone, ignoring another wave of notifications. "But no more surprise kisses."

"No promises."

Bruno was going to lose his mind over their engagement numbers. Their fake relationship was trending worldwide. The internet was already writing their love story.

But watching Jules guide her through the stadium with that hand on her lower back, Mila had to wonder how much of this was still fake.

............tbd

#quainwritings #quain’s masterlist #jules kounde #jules koundé fanfiction #jules kounde x black reader #jules koundé fanfic #jules kounde x you #footballer x oc #footballer x reader #fc barça fic #fc barcelona fanfic

125 notes · View notes

andreafmn · 1 year ago

Text

Running in Circles | Chapter 9

Word Count: 3.6K

Summary: (Y/N) Rossi is following in her father’s footsteps by joining the BAU team as a profiler. The girl genius knew almost everything but she could have never predicted falling for Aaron Hotchner, her boss, and her father’s friend. in their world mutual feelings are not enough to push them together. Will all the adversities and obstacles they face pull them together or push them apart forever?

A/N: can't believe it's been over a year since I updated this story. It was one of the first I ever posted but quickly got disheartened by it as I tried to follow the show's timeline (which is non-existent, honestly). I'm trying to get through season 6 as fast as I can because I've already written chapters for afterward, but I need to tie it into the show. Honestly considered putting the story on hold but I got the chapter done 😊😊 Also need to go back and edit this story, especially regarding the POV

<- Previous | Next ->

As if by divine intervention, (Y/N)’s phone started ringing. The vibrations matched the fluttering of her heart as she prayed that Hotch could have been thinking about her at that moment as well. Maybe then she could trick herself into believing that fate was playing its cards right.

“Hey, baby girl.”

“Derek,” she sighed quietly, trying her best not to voice her disappointment. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“You mind some company for tonight? I got a bottle of whiskey with our names on it.”

“Know what? After the day we just had, sure.” She looked down at the pan of lasagna and decided if she couldn’t enjoy it with Hotch, she’d enjoy it with a friend. “I’ve got some lasagna going in the oven we can eat.”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes.”

After the phone clicked, she decided the most prudent thing would be to send Hotchner a text message thanking him for the food and saying she’d update him on everything tomorrow. After everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, she needed a moment of calm and clarity. A moment with certainty rather than mixed signals and stolen glances. She just needed a moment to breathe.

As any evidence of the day shed from her skin in the shower, a loud knock rang through the house. She quickly stepped out of her bathroom and slipped on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie before she ran down the stairs to be met with Derek already inside the kitchen, digging a fork into the piping hot lasagna, with Spencer staring at our friend as he ate like a maniac.

“You know, if you let it cool down a bit, you can savor the taste,” Reid chuckled.

“I know,” he spoke with a full mouth. “But I wanna get drunk tonight, and I won’t do it on an empty stomach.”

“There’s some garlic bread in the toaster oven if you need something that will soak up the alcohol,” (Y/N) laughed as her two friends came into view in her kitchen. “And it’s good to see you’re putting those emergency keys to good use.”

“Sorry, (Y/N),” Spencer responded quickly. “Derek said you wouldn’t mind. We waited five minutes outside.”

“It’s fine, Reid. But you could’ve checked who was at the door.”

“Well, I didn’t want to overstep,” he shrugged. “It’s not my house after all.”

“Good to know you have boundaries, Reid,” she chuckled. “Not that they stopped either of you from letting yourselves in.”

Derek only grumbled in response, too focused on serving the plates and stuffing his mouth. (Y/N) headed to the front door, unsure of who else could have decided to drop by. And though a part of her wanted it to be Hotchner, she knew better than to live in that delusion. He was back in his home with his son, while she had a house full of friends and him on her mind.

“‘Em,” the woman smiled as she opened the door. “Derek invite you too?”

“As a matter of fact, he did. But I’m guessing he didn’t tell you I was coming over.”

“I’m just glad you didn’t use your emergency key as freely as those two boys.”

“Well, you did say we should feel at home,” Morgan grinned. “I’m just doing what you told me to.”

“First time you follow the rules, Morgan,” Emily teased. “Although I’d rather you guys break into (Y/N)’s house than mine.”

“Geez, thanks, Em,” she chuckled. “You’re lucky there’s enough food and booze to go around. But don’t go too crazy. We still have work tomorrow.”

“As if you’d ever let us go hungry,” Emily laughed. “Your Italian blood would never let you.”

“All I need to know is if there’s anyone else that will show up out of the blue.”

“Not that I know of,” Derek shrugged. “Now open up that bottle, I’m thirsty.”

By the time midnight rolled around, Emily and Derek had gone back home. They had eaten enough and drank enough the exhaustion was making their eyelids flutter. And all of them knew that the longer they stayed, the harder it would be to make it back to their homes. Only Spencer was left, curled up on the sofa, still nursing the same glass of whiskey from the start of the night. His eyes were squeezed shut, a hand over them blocking the overhead light.

“You okay, Spence?” (Y/N) asked as she sat by his head, resting it gently onto her lap. She ran her fingers through his curls, massaging his scalp softly. “You got a migraine?”

“Something like that,” he sighed. “They’ve been going on for a bit, but lately, they’ve been worse. The pain is unbelievable, and it makes me sensitive to everything around me.”

“Have you gone to a doctor? This could be something serious, Spence,” she worried. “I have a friend that might be able to squeeze you in. She’s a neurologist and…”

“I’ve got it handled, (Y/N),” he chuckled softly. “I made an appointment for later in the week. I just have to power through the remaining days with sunglasses and pills.”

As soon as he mentioned the pain, a question popped into (Y/N)’s head that she did not want to ask. It was composed of words that could only bring back horrors from his past and the mistakes he was still paying for to that day. The last thing she wanted was to resurface that horrible period, but she had to know. For his sake, she just had to.

“I haven’t taken Dilaudid,” he said before she could speak. “It hasn’t even crossed my mind.”

“How did you…?”

“You were thinking too loud,” he responded as he grinned slightly, his eyes still closed. “And you’re the only one that still asks.”

“I’m sorry, Spence. I don’t mean to be so pushy, she sighed as she stared at the way her fingers ran through the brown of his hair. “If you don’t want time to ask, just…”

“No. I’m grateful that you do.” His free hand searched for hers, squeezing it softly as he enjoyed the warmth of her skin. “I sometimes feel that the team goes out of their way to pretend that part of my life didn’t happen or that it could never happen again. But it did, and it could. Still, I know I can always count on you to look after me, (Y/N). Even if I’m a couple of years older than you, you always find a way to take care of me.”

“And I always will, Reid. You’re a part of my family, and I take care of my family,” she responded softly. “Do you wanna stay here tonight? If it’s too bad, I don’t want you driving out there in the dark.”

“Honestly? Yeah,” Spencer breathed. “I don’t think I could make it home right now.”

“Alright, then. Why don’t you head on up and take a shower while I prepare you some tea and get you a cold compress for your head?” (Y/N) instructed. “You can take any of the sweats from the guest room, and I’ll fetch you some migraine pills so you can hopefully get some shut-eye tonight.”

“Thanks, Rossi,” the man smiled, finally allowing his eyes to open, finding that she had dimmed all the lights. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“And you’ll never have to find out,” she smiled. “Now, go on upstairs, and I’ll get started on the tea.”

“Fine,” he jokingly whined. “And can you not tell anyone else? I don’t want them worrying about me.”

“I won’t. Just, please keep me updated.”

“Copy that.”

As he disappeared to the second floor, (Y/N) couldn’t help but worry about her friend. Spencer had gone through things that were unimaginable. And though he came out of them with his life, they had slowly started to eat away at him. She knew firsthand just how debilitating anxiety could be to someone’s body, and it concerned her that he was downplaying his symptoms.

She set her kettle to boil as she searched for her own mixture of sleepy-time tea—chamomile, lemongrass, peppermint, and lavender. From her cupboard, she pulled out the purple and blue mug Spencer had always used since he had claimed it was able to keep his tea warm enough to sip slowly. Because apparently it had always been a big concern of his. After placing the tea infuser into the mug, she drizzled a few circles of honey to the bottom and a sprinkle of cinnamon. And once the kettle beeped, she drowned the leaves and the honey in boiling water.

(Y/N) could hear the shower running upstairs as she let the tea seep into the water, and all she could do was worry. Granted, it was something she did every single day of her life. She worried about her father spending all his time in books and his work and not enough on his personal life. She worried about little Jack having to grow up without his mother and a dad who didn’t quite believe he could do a good job as a father. She worried about Hotch, about what he did or didn’t feel. She worried about the team every time they went out on a case. And most importantly, she worried about herself and how she would ever live up to the people around her. Now, she added Spencer’s migraines to the list. If she ever made it to old age without a heart attack, she would have been very surprised.

Walking up the stairs with the mug and the pills, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She balanced the mug on the flat handrail and pulled out the device to see Hotchner’s name lighting up the screen. Her heart hammered against her chest, making her hands tremble with nerves. It was just a phone call., she told herself. He was probably only calling to thank her again.

“Hotch,” she breathed, her voice croaking more than she intended. “Hey.”

“Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“No!” she answered quickly. “I was just heading up the stairs. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, you don’t need to worry,” he assured. “It’s just that Jack wanted to say goodnight and thank you.”

“Isn’t it a bit late for him to be up?” (Y/N) smiled. “I mean, it is still a school night.”

“I caved,” Hotch chuckled. She could hear the exhaustion still present in his voice, and all she wanted to do was help him. It was all she could do. To him, she’d always be just a friend, a coworker, his colleague’s daughter. “Please don’t hold it against me.”

“I could never,” the woman laughed. “I would have probably caved too.”

“Well, then, I’ll put you on.”

(Y/N) heard scuffling from the receiver before Jack’s voice came through. “Hi, (Y/N),” he said. “I wanted to say goodnight since we couldn’t say goodbye to you. I had a lot of fun this weekend.”

“Aw, buddy, I’m glad,” she cooed. “I loved having you over. You know you’re welcome any time.”

“Thank you, (Y/N)!” he beamed. “But I gotta go to bed now. I have school tomorrow. So, goodnight!”

“Good night, Jack,” she responded. “Now, why don’t you pass the phone back to your dad.”

“Alright. Bye bye!”

“Bye, Jack,” she chuckled. “I think that kid should be heading off to bed now, Hotch.”

“He is,” Hotchner answered. “I knew he’d want to after saying good night to you. I think my son likes you more than he likes me.”

“Oh, that’s nonsense, Hotch. He only likes that I’m all fun. But he loves you. Don’t ever doubt that.”

“Thanks, (Y/N),” he chuckled softly. “I’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

“Even when you don’t have to,” the woman sighed contentedly. “Now, go on. You have to sleep too. It’s not just Jack that is up past his bedtime.”

“Very funny, (Y/N). Good night.”

“Night, Hotch.”

(Y/N)’s chest wrenched as her heart accelerated, already wishing the days before could repeat themselves so she could wake and know that he was there. But there was no point in deluding herself. The man could not and would not ever see her as anything more than what she already was. Even their job would allow it. Nothing seemed to ever align for something between them to work.

She turned to the left once she reached the top of the stairs and headed to the guest room to leave the steaming mug for Spencer to find after his shower but found him already sitting on the bed drying his hair. “Was that Hotch on the phone?” She nodded in response. “You didn’t tell him about what’s going on with me, right?”

“Of course not, Spence,” she said in a low tone as she set the mug on the nightstand. “It’s not my information to divulge. Unless it becomes life-threatening, I won’t say a thing without your permission.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she smiled, handing him the pills. “Anything.”

“What do you think these migraines could be?” The pain behind his eyes was more than visible, it was almost palpable. “I just… what if it’s something serious, (Y/N)?”

“Serious like what, Spence?”

“What if I’m starting to lose my mind?” His voice was frail, trembling at the terrifying thought. “You know, my mom…”

“Don’t go there, Spencer. You can’t go there,” the woman insisted. “We won’t speculate until you have an answer from the doctor. So, I’m begging you, don’t go there.”

“I can’t help it, (Y/N). Either there’s something seriously physically wrong with me, or it’s all psychosomatic. Neither is a good option.”

“I know, Spence. I know. But let’s just not jump to conclusions yet. Not until you’ve gone to the doctor, and we get some type of answer. Until then, I don’t want you to think of the worst-case scenario. It’s not gonna do you any good.”

“Fine,” he sighed as his shoulders slumped forward. “Can I ask you something else? Something that is so off-topic you’ll get whiplash.”

“Go ahead, Reid,” she chuckled softly.

“Do you still have feelings for Hotch?”

The question as innocent, no ill-will behind it. But it still made (Y/N)’s breath hitch in her throat. It had been a long time since any of the people they knew mentioned her less-than-secret infatuation with the unit chief, and it made her heart race like the first time he had confronted her about it. “Yeah,” she muttered. “It’s not something that’s going away any time soon.”

“Have you ever thought of dating someone else? It might help you get over him.”

“I might not be ready for that just yet,” she sighed. “I just can’t seem to stop holding onto hope.”

“I understand. Love… it’s hard, huh?”

“It’s one thing we can’t learn from all the books we read,” she smiled sadly. “But that’s enough talk. The pills should start to work soon, and you need to sleep.”

“Thanks, (Y/N),” he smiled as he got under the covers. “Thank you for caring.”

“You don’t need to thank me for that, Spence. Again, you’re family,” she grinned. “I’ll see you in the morning, alright?”

“Yeah. Good night.”

“Good night, Reid.”

The rest of the night, Spencer’s words floated in her head. She could open her dating pool and allow herself a little venture. Hotch wasn’t waiting for her, nor had he shown a smidge of real interest in her. Holding onto him only hurt her in the long run, making it harder for anyone else who wanted to take the place he did not want. But she couldn’t. Not now. Not just yet.

After a couple of days and a two-night case all the way in Miami, Spencer asked (Y/N) to accompany him to the doctor for the reading of his test results. He was jumpier than usual, his legs bouncing at a rapid speed as they waited for his name to be called. He figured with his fingers, picking at the skin on the corners until she placed her hand on top.

“You won’t have any skin left for our next case,” she chuckled. “Don’t start jumping to conclusions, Mr. Genius.”

“I can’t help it,” he worried. “It’s all I can do. I can’t just shut off my brain.”

“Then, tell me something. Something I might not know.”

“Easier said than done,” he snorted. “You know almost as much as I do.”

“Ah, you said almost as much. So, you believe there are things that you know that I don’t.”

“Okay,” he chuckled. “Did you know that rubber bands last longer if they’re kept in the fridge? The unusual, lightly cross-linked polymer structure of the rubber used to create them react to the cold differently to what people might expect…”

“Right, the chains heat up when stretched, technically shortening them causing the rubber to contract and eventually snapping at the exothermic change,” she mused. “Cooling them would allow for a bigger stretch and life longevity because the release of energy is slower. Nice fact.”

“See, it’s not as fun with you,” he said with a soft chuckle. “The team would have been asking why I would care about rubber bands. You? You go into a simple explanation of thermodynamics.”

“Well, I ask you for a fun fact. I never said I wouldn’t analyze it.”

As Spencer was about to retort, a nurse came out to call his name, telling him the doctor would see him. He got up onto his feet, smoothing down his pants and taking a steadying breath. But he didn’t seem to do more.

“Do you want me to go with you?” (Y/N) quickly offered.

She was met with a soft smile and a gentle nod before they both headed into the office where Spencer’s worst-case scenario unfolded. The doctor told him there was nothing he could see that was physically wrong with him, the scans and the lab work all came back negative. If there was something happening, it was most likely in his head.

Those were the news Spencer did not want. They terrified him, and he let the doctor know. In his own way. “It’s not—I’m not crazy.”

“Crazy? Dr. Reid, I’m not saying…”

“I have headaches. I have intense sensitivity to light. Because there’s something wrong with me,” he asserted, his words spilling out faster than he could hold them. “Physically, not mentally. It’s not that.”

“That?”

“Listen, doctor, my mother’s a paranoid schizophrenic who’s been institutionalized. So I know very well what mental illness looks like,” Spencer continued. “Maybe even better than you, and it’s not that. It’s not.”

“Reid,” (Y/N) called as the man got up from the exam table and left the doctor with a shocked expression on his face. “I am so sorry, doctor. This topic is just… it’s a little hard for him.”

“There’s not much you can do to help someone who doesn’t want to accept their reality,” the doctor sighed softly. “Can you just see that he finds a way to manage his stress and his emotions? I truly believe this might be one of the biggest reasons for these headaches.”

“I’ll try my best, doctor,” (Y/N) smiled. “Thank you for seeing him.”

“No problem.”

She found Spencer waiting for her in the hall, his sunglasses on his eyes and his arms crossed in front of his chest. They remained in silence until they reached her car, the doctor’s pout evident on his face. She knew he was annoyed she had apologized for his behavior, but she couldn’t leave without at least giving a reason for his outburst.

“It’s not psychosomatic,” he stated. “It just can’t be.”

“Spence, we have one of the most stressful jobs on the planet. Day in and day out we see cases that astound even the most seasoned officers. And we get into the minds of the people that commit these atrocities,” she offered. “Don’t you think there is a possibility that these migraines are your body’s way of telling you that you need to balance yourself out?”

“If it was really the job like you say, all of us would be getting these headaches,” he said angrily. “But I don’t see Morgan or Prentiss doubling over because their brain feels like it wants to escape their skull.”

“Everyone is different, Spence. And I know you don’t need me to tell you this. Stress presents itself differently in everyone. Just because we don’t know how they handle their burdens doesn’t mean they don’t have them,” (Y/N) continued, maintaining the same calm tone as she cooled him down. “All I am saying, Reid, is that it might be psychosomatic, and you need to find new ways to handle your stress because I am certain this is not you going crazy. Or it might be something else, and you’ll need to get a second opinion. But regardless of what the outcome is, you can’t just get angry at your doctor because you don’t like your results, and I’ll be with you every step of the way. We’ll find you a way through this, okay?”

His stance finally softened at her words. His arms fell to his sides, and a soft smile tugged at his lips. “I was kind of an ass back there,” he chuckled. “It’s just frustrating and terrifying all the same time, and I don’t know how to process it all.”

“We take it one day at a time, Reid,” she smiled, taking a hand of his in hers. “You’re not alone in this.”

“It’s sometimes hard to remember that you’re you get than me,” he snickered. “I’m pretty sure you’ve babied everyone on the team at some point.”

“What can I say?” she laughed. “I just wanna make sure every single one of you is okay.”

And that was one thing she knew she would do for as long as they would let her. For now, her main concern was Spencer’s well-being. And she was grateful that it was enough to keep Hotchner out of her head.

Next ->

My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts or buy me a coffee to support me and my love of writing If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!

Taglist: @winter-soldier-101@zheezs14 @DyslexicCatterpillar @cevans-winchester@sirenheadenby@bluetreecloud20@valejewel @sunsetcurvej @sapnapsbandana @lilozg-123@esposadomd @nocturnalherb16 @six-call@yuki254 @akg40 @nyenye@captainrogers-19

@beckiej0073-blog @cecehensonn @catgirlpwr@ilikepunsbeth@magimtz23@adaydreamaway08@hufflepuffobsessedwithmarvel@sugasthreedollarkookie@fandomonetwo@haroldpotterson@revnamjinn @dove-chan32931 @gangstalicious06 @multifandomreader73 @you-local-gay @sunflowerleii @mar @sleepilysworld@laylasbunbunny@aonungsfreak @brittany-appleyard24 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187@bibella8swan@itsmytimetoodream@ivory-raptor@euphoria1992-blog@unstablekay @fresita1218 @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @ange1111face222 @elizabeth916@simon-e-mallory@evattude@cerejinha@caosfanblr@alyeskathewave @haikyuuswhoree @arcaurix @cheshirecat484 @pinkrockstar19

60 notes · View notes

maggiemacabre · 1 year ago

Text

SiIvaGunner SmashUp! Behind the scenes and post-mortem

Hello folks and welcome to my new Tumblr blog. I don't know how much I'm going to actually use this thing in the future but I figure if I need it, it's here. As you can probably tell by the title, today's subject will be none other than my most recent "work", the SiIvaGunner SmashUp!

youtube

The idea of a SiIvaGunner take on the concept of "Royal Rumble but full of stupid contestants" was in my head for a while, but the motivation to do it wasn't in place until I found Dead Meat's Horror Royal Rumble in August or September of 2023. The Jerma Rumbles and Vinewrestle were definitely also influences on the idea, but the Horror Royal Rumble was the impetus, and played a part in influencing some creative choices featured in the SmashUp (more on that later).

youtube

After running the idea by the team and the rest of backroom, I picked up WWE 2K23 (which fortuitously was on sale that weekend) and got to work. Going in, I had next to no idea of the ins and outs of pro wrestling, which meant that I had to do a lot of research into things like the wrestlers themselves, moves, terminology, different match types, general historical stuff, how shows are actually presented, etc. This put me in a very, very deep rabbit hole which I have still not crawled out of. I even went to two house shows!

Making the wrestlers was the first step and by far took the longest amount of time out of anything, since this was the first show of its kind on the channel and required the creation of 34 unique wrestlers. Some of them were easier than others (lookin' at you AMUNO), but others such as Ninomae Ina'nis took days to complete due to the amount of detail they required. This also isn't including wrestlers who were made that got cut; some of these exclusions include Bottom G, who was left out because Andrew Tate sucks, Elly from Touhou Project, who was replaced by Sumireko, and Wood Man, who was left out for lore reasons and replaced with 8-Bit Beast in a somewhat 11th hour decision. Maybe next year?

The decision to make Hot Cross Buns and Raft Ride into women also spawned from this period. Hot Cross Buns was made first and was originally meant to show up in the Grand Rumble, but after some time I ended up deciding to move her to her own match, which became a Women's World Champion match because lol. I had to use mods to make the men and women able to fight each other, so theoretically Raft Ride could have been a man, but women are awesome.

Being an egotistical maniac, I also included some references to things I'd worked on in the past. Totino's Stadium, the arena where the match takes place, was first mentioned in the FUMO JAM ad from the DJ Professor K Day stream, and Nu Grandiose City is the city where Woodyana is from in Woodyana Stones: Raider Made of Lost Bark. Also I guess this is why Elvira was included? LOL. Fun fact: The footage of "Totino's Stadium" is actually of Gazprom Arena in Russia.

Since I was involved with the channel's MAGFest panel in 2024, I was able to announce the show months in advance, although I'm not sure how many people actually paid attention at the time. Getting a logo ready between finishing CCC and MAG was a bit tight, but thankfully it was able to be done on time, and on top of that I was able to make the big card poster thing on my own. I actually designed it to be printed, and I proposed making it a sold item, although that idea was rejected. I also came up with the date during this period, choosing the day right before the WWE Hall of Fame show, and while things got a bit close to the wire, it was luckily able to make the date and time without a hitch in the end.

After all the wrestlers were made, it was time to record and edit. I was a bit worried about my laptop overheating while doing so, but I was able to get good quality 60 FPS 1080p footage recorded without any hitches other than some human error on my end. While the controversial ending of the Grand Rumble wasn't what I had in mind, I ended up leaving it as-is for time reasons and also because it felt like a funny troll ending. Which it was! Editing was not quite as smooth since I had to go through all the footage and edit it together into a cohesive product. WWE games don't allow you to cut to entrances during a Royal Rumble, which meant that I had to record and edit those in myself. The method I ended up using resembled the one from the Dead Meat rumble mentioned earlier with cuts to the audience as the buzzer rings, although I'd like to believe I did a better job than they did with their 2024 entrances where they awkwardly cut around shots of the ring. This is also where the fun facts come from, as they are actually covering up the nameplates that show up as an alternative to cutting to the entrances.

After editing was done I got some other team members to do commentary. Thankfully I was able to get someone with wrestling knowledge, which definitely added a dimension of realism and legitimacy to the project. I don't know if I can say who the announcers are because of leaks, but if you haven't figured it out, Randall Shields is a Smash Bros. reference. Also it was the first contribution to SiIvaGunner that had "Randall" made in about half a decade. What a return!

The premiere of the project was electric. Seeing over 1.3K people tune in and get hype over something I made was incredible and made my week, if not month. I did feel a little bad about the reaction when Dream came in (💀), but other than that it was awesome. And don't worry, he won't return.

In the end, I had a lot of fun with the project and it was awesome seeing everything pay off. I want to thank everyone who helped, including the artists who designed the logos and the people who did commentary. It couldn't have come together without help and assistance from everyone, and I hope that this becomes the first in a series of similar videos.

#siivagunner #siivagunner smashup #wrestling #behind the scenes #Youtube

43 notes · View notes

ladycremecaramel · 27 days ago

Text

Let' play Tears of The Kingdom! First playthrough. Part 13

Hello Hello 🖐 It's been a few days since my last totk update. I've been working longer hours than usual all week. I'm typing this on my laptop and I gotta say, it feels so weird typing on an actual keyboard compared to my phone. I decided to use the laptop because I wanted to show better pictures by transferring the screenshots from the switch to there instead.

Well anyway. Let me catch play catch up with all of the screenshots I made shall we? Last where we left off, we made it to the Wetland Stables and saw Beedle. After talking to him, I looked for the closest cooking poot to cook up all of the meat I accumulated from amiibo cards to sell to him. I met this guy at the cooking pot.

The what now?

That doesn't look right. I haven't seen the Dueling Peaks or noticed them yet

Zonai survey team...huh. Okay... welp! Time to board Epona and explore on my own-what in the what what?

Whaaaaaaaa????? My horseys from BOTW ported over?

Nice! Anyway anyway soooooo. Pony points...is that something I should keep an eye out for? Any cool saddle bridle combo if I get enough points? Eh I don't care right now. So I can go down wells and find interesting stuff...

Easier climbing? Sign me tf up! 😁 Anything to make exploration easier is always a hell yea in my book.

Shouldn't Impa be...y'know, dead?

shitshitshitshitshitshit I gotta get over there! But it's cold af...do I have enough to make strong cold resistant food? I dunno!!!

Ok so maaaaaaaaybe I'm not ready to go over there just yet without freezing my ass off. *sigh* I guess I'll follow that one glowing point that says 'find princess Zelda' or whatever.

I run into this guy along the way. That's a familiar bowl cut. Also Hudson is the new boss of the construction company. What happened to Bolson????

I happened to go to the castle town area by accident first and talked to some ppls

Something scary moving around... like...a lynel? or a Gleeok? I don't think I've seen one up close. I vaguely remember seeing one in the distance in the depths on my kiddo's game.

Oh yea I gotta meet up with her. Maybe I can get upgrades to the Purah Pad like I did with the Sheikah Slate :)

WHAT?!?!?

Robbie's alive?!?!?!?! I was thinking he would definitely be dead! Wtf is the lifespan of these Sheikah ppl?

Heheh his comment about Link being in his undies.

What is that? Are poe ghosts in this game?

I recall those things not being fun to deal with in Twilight princess.

Karson! He remembers us!

Then I meet this lady from Lurelin and there are pirates there now.

I like pirates...After talking with pretty much everyone in Lookout Landing, it was time to see Purah.

youtube

How about

not until I get my stealth armor.

So I gotta go meet this Hoz guy at the castle...

Well hey to you too. I don't remember much of what was said in detail but this happened

oh wow there she is.

lol! Me too dude!

Why you being a Carmen San Diego, Zelda? (I'm talking about the old Carmen games, not the netflix show) So anyway, I'm redirected to go back and talk to Purah. Who tells this little girl to flip a switch to activate the new towers. What happened to the old ones?

hmmm ok ok. So now what?

LMAO!!! His face!

Ok I have video of getting the paraglider and then I cut it off and then quickly start recording when a thing happens.

lemme make a separate post cuz doing it on the laptop and then e editing to add from my phone is a bad idea

#legend of zelda #loz #tears of the kingdom #legend of zelda tears of the kingdom #totk #loz totk #first playthrough

5 notes · View notes

readingaway · 4 months ago

Text

I'm lazy and I enjoy watching long rant reviews of bad books so today I finally tried searching up ender's game and red rising because I know enough about the one and its author to know it's riddled with misogyny and I've read reviews of the second. But according to youtube everybody LOVES both of these books/ series, or at least is a little lukewarm but thinks the writing is good or just X aspect was not so good. And there's a few things I've observed in this little search.

First, that there in fact are a lot of men posting book reviews on youtube. I'm not going to go down rabbit holes of assumptions based on their opinions on 1-2 extremely popular sci-fi books, but these guys do not show up when I search books by women. So.... yeah. So many years after first learning about these issues, like sex segregation in publishing and among readers, men (in general, on the whole) still aren't reading books by and about women.

Also, with books this popular, there are bound to be haters. Again, I've read reviews of RR before that tear it to pieces. Classmates in high school had to read ender's game for an english class. How am I not seeing any results with videos that go into the misogyny that's baked into these books, or that tear apart the writing with glee?

My guess is, fear of retaliation.

Edit: I don't want to keep going on and on, but we know that there's a much higher risk of a negative review on a popular sci-fi book by a man resulting in harrassment and violence against the reviewer than a similarly negative review of a book by a woman. So there are multiple choices for 4 hour long reviews of fourth wing, tearing it to pieces, but none for red rising.

Edit 2: I didn't search these books because I want to hear about the misogyny. I'm interested in ender's game specifically because I want to know more about the overarching plot that I've heard references to, but I refuse to actually read anything by card because I know what kind of person he is. The premise of the book is riddled with sexism and completely wacked "evolution" though, and I know RR uses certain tropes, but I would like to listen to a reviewer roast the writing.

2 notes · View notes

medtech-mara · 1 year ago

Note

8, 11, 22 for Mara/Jack and Mara/J I H Z Z Y

Ref post

8.Who is the big spoon? Little spoon?

Jihara- which is the couple name for J I H Z Z Y and Mara. I think we can all guess who is the big spoon.

It's Mara. J I H Z Z Y is the little spoon.

For Jack & Mara, who don't have a couple name because we've not came up with one yet.

Jack is the big spoon. Before he got the extra inches (his height, don't be in the gutter lmao) from his Sigframe, he was a like a Jetpack on Mara. Kinda cute. He wasn't that much shorter than Mara, only a couple.

9.Who is clingy?

For Jihara- Mara is the more clingy one. Something about this rockerboy leaves Mara desperate for his attention. Maybe it's because his fame makes her feel insecure? Especially knowing that Missy (Our pop queen) has had his audience a few times. Of course it was only for discussing Collab and Missy asking J I H Z Z Y to get Gordie to look her way again, but it still made Mars hella jealoussssss!!!!

For Jack & Mara- Jack is the clingy one. He has always hung on every word Mara has ever said since he fell in love with her when they were 9. She'd come over one morning, with her frizzy of unmanageable mane, her glasses, and braces, something in the way she smiled, something in the way she was so excited to talk about this new show she watched, when she crawled into the blanket fort dubbed Fort. Adams with his twin brother, just made him realize she was the one for him. While they have always been inseparable, after getting together in Water on Mars, the two are rarely seen without each other, and Mara will never admit to anyone but him, there's no place else she'd rather be.

22. What is something - either character - doesn't like about the other?

Jihara- For J i h z z y, I can't speak for him on this, but IF I were to guess, it would be that Mara's content with going any minute, she's okay living the rest of her days as a merc. He wants more for her.

For Mara, She doesn't like that J I H Z Z Y has never taken being a merc serious, despite this being the whole reason he's here for his next album. He's not improved and too many times she's had to hold herself back to tend to him to to be near him in the invent that something horrible does happen, she has to get him hooked to a Cryo-bag stat.

Jack & Mara- For Jack, He hates Mara being a merc. Well, at first. He was SOOOO AGAINST IT!!! That was, until one day she was coming home from a gig that she blew him off for, she was pushed onto N-CART track and left for dead.. But she wasn't. Maelstrom scavs near by took advantage of a fresh corps to pick apart, but the only Cyberware she had at the moment of value was her KIROSHI 075362K Limited Gold Edition w/ the following upgrades:

-Low-Light/Infrared/UV

-Color Shift

-Anti-Dazzle

But they were fried when she fell on the track, and left blind. THE ONLY saving grace was that Mara had a Frequent Flyer card addressed to a Titus Atredies (Space prince) and they saw their chance for a good cash cow that they wanted to milk dry. However, He never showed. I have no clue what the Boosters planned on, but Mara was almost never seen again. If it hadn't been for her brother putting a tracker in her bag, a spy toy from when they were kids, which he'd recently given to Jayce before he was arrested. (Look theres a lot, that was going on at that time. I would need a soild hour to explain.). Mara had pinged Jago several times to get her, and he hadn't showed either. Blind, she knew that she wouldn't fair well, but she was gonna die trying. She didn't want to know what they planned for her. Just as she got ready to make a break for it, Jack showed up and killed the two guys in the front seat. That's when he decided he had to be proactive, he had to protect her or else she was going to end up like her friend Jennifer Costa.

& also he hates mara's ex jago a lot and hates that she even has anything to do with him still

Mara HATES that Jack can never say what he feels. Its always gotta be to the point of no return for him to finally make his move. Mara wasn't blind to how Jack felt, but when she made her move, he didn't respond? So she was kinda left confused, and maybe thought it was for the best. She stood the most to lose if it didnt work. It wasn't until He heard about Mara and Titus had broken up, thats when he went to make his move. LIKE DUDE WHY? UUUUGGGGHHHHHH

#Ask box #Thank you for asking me!#Cyberpunk Red #Cyberpunk Red Campaign #Legends of Night City #Water on Mars #You are my first ask since Nuking my ask box!

3 notes · View notes

spurious · 2 years ago

Note

I almost want to ask a commentary for that one really dark fic you wrote. But, I'll ask for the one you wrote for me that I absolutely adore still, Split Open and Laid Out 💜💜💜

(fic writer commentary meme)

quick & dirty commentary on the cannibalism fic (because I assume that’s the one you meant, and I think it’s hilarious that it gained such status as a symbol of the horrors of fandom among a particular set, when really it’s not even that bad imo):

my kink bingo card in 2012 had a “guro” square

my fandom at the time, kanjani8, has one member who really likes to eat

It was so easy to write, I just wrote it out in the same way I would a sex scene: act by act, feeling by feeling (this is also the way I trained myself to be able to write passable fight scenes)

end of commentary, I still stand by this fic 100% lol

NOW onto what you actually asked for, commentary for Split Open and Laid Out:

Okay so, a little bird had told me you were having a bad time, and I had prior knowledge of your enjoyment of exhibitionist!John as a concept, and what are fandom friends for if not providing nasty smut on a bad day? I wrote most of this on my phone during lunch at work, while walking around to the park and back to the office (and being waylaid by a coworker when I was really just getting to the good part, lmao). I did a quick version which I sent at the end of lunch hour, and then just felt compelled to edit it into something of posting length because like…this is a good concept!!

I, personally, absolutely love writing a good jerk-off fic, and honestly the AMTDI concept is like, such a great sexy fandom contrivance that I have loved and wanted to try out for myself, sooo, this seemed like a good time for it.

Anyway, the hook for this story is that John’s freaked out about jacking off in front of the aliens because he knows he’s going to like it too much, and that is just far too vulnerable of a place to put himself in, right? Which just feels very John to me--if it was something he hated he'd have no problem enduring it, but the thought of showing so much of himself (figuratively and literally I guess lol) is just so much for him to handle which makes it all the more heightened.

I’m pretty sure the image came to me in that vivid way such images do: John on his knees, his legs tied and spread open. It felt important for him to be seeking out his team as well, seeking out their approval (he’s doing this for them, after all, right?), and equally important that they give him that approval. I also really wanted to write Ronon and Rodney providing him with that sort of half-knowing aftercare which he would 100% need and absolutely never ask for.

So I actually had two different endings in mind for this? The first is the one that it’s posted with. In the second, the scene ends and John steps out of a VR chamber—either having been in there by himself, or actually having acted out this fantasy with the rest of the team. I really like both options, but I decided to go with something straightforward and just leave some implications for what would come after.

Anyway I think it's up to the reader whether the team bring John back to Atlantis and then give him a hand at working out some of his kinks in a safe space or if he just will jack off to this particular moment for the rest of his life, but personally I like to think they got the message.

#fic rambles #ask meme #my wife having to explain to her friends that she was marrying the person who wrote that cannibalism fic #probably an ultimate moment of my life lmao

3 notes · View notes

abs0luteb4stard · 1 year ago

Text

My father's friend recently just started picking at me. This October-December, it became his new hobby. Every social post, random messages out of the blue. Unrelated bullshit. Nothing I did fit for him I guess.

My dad was his "matchmaker" and best man. They had a 20 year gap of no contact. Because my father had some pretty issue... which now doesn't seem so petty.

But they since had called and done Xmas cards, went to eat maybe once every 3-5 years for the recent 15 years. He was otherwise an okay friendly guy.

But he began telling me shit like my dad wouldn't be proud of me. Or my dad wouldn't rest in peace because of me. That God's going to get me. Really strange stuff he NEVER did before. He even accused me of being drunk, and I never drink.

I do meme video edits for a friend's page, some for myself. Example: Iron Sheik and Roddy Piper from 80s WWF, Batman, other minor SFX videos stuff like that. Every year, I put up my Baby Yoda Star Wars nativity scene.

And this year, he said that is against Christ.🙄 he says That is my mom's fault, like he thinks my dad is suddenly devout in his eyes? I dunno. Some senile delusion.

I dunno what the hell he's suddenly gone around the bend. I'm not doing anything differently same old me as I always was. Somehow he's picked me to bother.

He's been badgering me for months. And my dad died during this time of the year. And it's already dragging me down. And now he's Made me incredibly angry.

Because I know my dad. He was proud of me no matter what. So I told his friend as cruelly as I could to go fuck himself and drop dead. It showed me that he didn't know my dad as well as he thought.

And as upsetting as it is. It's still fresh, the last 48 hours.

It's just made me feel my dad's death and the grief renewed. I don't need his friend. To hell with him. Nice guy or not. He has no business using my dad as an attack weapon towards me.

But to tell a person as close to their parents, had a close relationship with their father. Whom my mom and me spent nearly decade doing intense end of life caregiving... it's an absolute line in the sand for me. I don't think anyone can tell a person who their loved one was or what they thought of them not after what my parents and i went through together and who we were to each other. That's worse than anything.

I don't care who the person is. I will give you all my hatred. I let it slide for long enough. Drop dead and go to hell.

#my journal #grief #my thoughts #final straw #i

1 note · View note

thedarkmistress16 · 2 years ago

Note

please gush about your passions and pastimes!!! I would love to hear about them

ack- im happy you want to hear about them!

Passions:

obvs as y'all know recently and just in gen., i guess, writing- i love crafting worlds and stories where anything can happen and just creating scenes above all else, like getting lost in the details of everything. I love getting lost in my own world and making myself happy as most self-indulgent writers do (and showing off my legitimate skill in a proper form of writing after doing shitpost-y things for so long is pretty rejuvenating, XD). And upon going back to some of my older, posted works and wips, I still laugh at the dumb shit I thought was the best stuff ever and now find myself giving those ideas a refresher like my last writing update, because it's still a legitimately enjoyable read.

i love sketching for similar reasons, but more so to visualize a fuzzy, almost-there idea, usually about fashion. Like recently I re-drafted some outfits for a fic idea I had, in order to make the world and designs make sense in my head. And I redesigned an existing outfit, running with certain themes and embellishments in design. I'm so happy I can churn out simple sketches like that when i really put my mind to it and feel content with the finished product nowadays. I feel accomplished as a hobby artist now and it's all thanks to heavy online research, a few how-to books, and putting effort into one art class. It's the second hobby of mine that I want to be good at, almost as much as my writing. Speaking of, I sometimes draw what I write or dream about because it's that prominent in my head.

Wow i love music guys- ha, but you already knew that *lenny face*

Past times:

I really like playing the simpler games in life- not as much in the vein of it being less difficult or busy, but more so with fewer controls, interesting mechanics, and a captivating style that I can easily fuck around in or beat some levels for a few hours. Bring on the (spider) solitare (only 4 suit sucks ass why do i do this to myself), jewel quest (FUCK YOU CROWS), barbie's fashion show (SINGLE DREAM-), zoo tycoon (fuck guest happiness), and sonic adventure or x-men of course.

MMD vids are v neat, like I know a handful of choreos that are fun as past midnight exercises to get my blood pumping and i get to discover new songs and learn more about other languages at the same time! Also the aph as mmd crack vids are the best whether its them making 'i hate this' or 'yeah im hot shit' faces or being completely into it as they're forced to dance or simply copying a vine. Like, they give me brainrot and serotonin at the same time its so fun. I love seeing all the different outfits for mmd vids in general, too, on top of new covers i never would've known about.

I really love analyzing things in general, actually. It's how I learn most of the things I do and know now, even though it technically causes me to lose large chunks of time because all i'm doing is staring at the damn thing, XD. Sometimes (all the time) I'll look at a gif or vid of a character changing their facial expression as they do/say something and I'll be completely enthralled by it. Something similar happens when I stare at REALLY GOOD artwork. I think it's the technical part of my brain trying to figure out the individual elements which make up whatever that thing is, like what facial muscles are being used to convey that emotion or mix of them, what the character is feeling, how the lighting or shading of the environment or extra details in editing affects said expression, etc. And for art, I'm thinking of the lines, posture, composition, object placement, color palette, negative space, tone, and all that jazz you learn from studying art.

Scrapbooking is a fun pastime for me that's extended from celebratory cards to actual gifts to my personal sketchbooks. It's part of the "creating something out of nothing/seeing what you can create with some basic templates and decorations" kind of mindset. And it makes me happy because I get to be creative and my family members and friends (even my employer) love them as part of their gifts every time and come to expect it from me each holiday, so I'm constantly encouraged to do it in the best way. I've recently kinda gone overboard on using ribbons and charms for the spiral and stickers and washi tape for the actual book itself on my sketchbooks, but I find myself wanting to draw in it more because I did that, lol.

I love rewatching the things I love. I usually have the same commentary about it, but its nonetheless enjoyable. And I never know what new thing I'll discover about it next, even if i've seen it over 50 times and only have it on as background noise and don't actually watch it. And yes, I will easily let something play on repeat at least that many times in my lifespan as well (like, a full day of it, at least).

wow i love staring at characters im attracted to for hours on end can i get a HUYEA-

#ask for moi #im glad your interested- truly. made my day! *happy tears*#people who like this word vomit have my upmost respect

1 note · View note

shsy7573 · 2 years ago

Text

We’re in This Together - Ch. 9

For more info or chapter index, see overview post

DISCLAIMER: I do not own own Voyager or any of the characters in this fic (except for the aliens. Those were my creation.)

*This story is not beta-read and has not been edited or proof-read in any way! This was just something I threw together over the past three days and decided to post as my first entry on this site!*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER NINE

The next morning, Kathryn made the executive decision that they would be staying in the cave for a while. They were up on a ledge, far out of eye sight from the entrance, and there would be no reason for the Arachnomen to climb said ledge. Neither of them were in any state to travel, and even though they needed water, the Captain figured they’d lose less if they just stayed put for a while.

The venom was really starting to get to her. Halfway through the night, she’d started shivering. It was so bad that B’Elanna had to wake her up because she thought she was having a seizure. Now, she was alternating between shivering and hot flashes. One would come on without warning, going on for a range of minutes to hours, before immediately being replaced by the other again.

B’Elanna had thrown up in her sleep. She would have choked to death if the Captain wasn’t there. After that she’d basically just felt like shit. It felt like she was just slightly out of phase from her own body. She could see what was going on, but was never quite present enough to really feel anything.

Then the mood swings started. For any human they would have been intense, but being half-klingon, hers were volatile. One minute she would be extremely happy, bursting at the seams with excitement at all the new challenges they’d faced. Next, she’d be terribly inconsolable, hopeless with misery and convinced that they were never getting out of here. Then she’d be livid with anger, boiling to the point where the Captain had to hold her down for fear she’d blow their cover with her yelling.

Now, though, she was just homesick. Clinging desperately to Janeway as she longed for the soothing lull of Voyager drifting through space. It was strange, in a way, that she longed for Voyager rather than Earth. She guessed that part of her brain was thinking rationally enough to wish for something within reach, rather than 70,000 light years away.

Kathryn was just holding her, carding absent fingers through the Lieutenant’s hair, when B’Elanna began to talk.

“Captain?”

“Hm?”

“Why did Voyager leave us?”

Janeway tightened her grip on the woman, running a hand down her arm. “They’re on a diplomatic mission, remember? They’ll be back.”

“No they won’t.” B’Elanna despaired, pressing her face into Janeway’s chest, “they don’t want me anymore.”

“Now, I know that’s not true. Everyone loves you.”

“No they don’t! I pushed them all away and now they hate me!”

“Hey, look at me.” Kathryn removed her hand from B’Elanna’s hair, turning the engineer’s chin up so that she was gazing up at her through tearful eyes. “They don’t hate you. Nobody on Voyager hates you. You’re smart, and capable, and have gotten us out of our fair share of messes.”

“I’m sorry.” Torres pleaded, looking desperately at Janeway.

“What are you sorry for?”

“I- I pushed them all away. I got mad and they left because of me, and now- now- now you’re stuck here too.”

“Oh, Lanna. No. No, I promise you, they didn’t leave us. They’re coming back. In a couple of days when we don’t show up, they’ll be back. They wouldn’t leave just because you get a little upset sometimes. They care too much. This is not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. It just happened.”

B’Elanna shuddered in distress, pressing her face back into Janeway. Kathryn let out a long, sympathetic sigh as she returned her hand to the girl’s hair.

“We’ll get through this, Lanna. I promise. Just hold on.”

She continued to cradle her crewman in her arms, hoping upon hope that she could fulfil that promise.

Several hours later, B’Elanna seemed to come out of whatever state she was in. Her mind slowly floated back into alignment, and her thoughts once again became clear. She pulled herself out of the Captain’s arms, and felt her heart flutter as the arms around her felt limply to the ground.

The Captain’s form was slumped against the wall, her eyes closed and her face slack.

B’Elanna shook the woman’s shoulders vigorously. A million worse-case scenarios flooding through her mind at her Captain’s limp form.

Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead—

“Captain?!”

Janeway’s eyes fluttered open, and she let out a long, drawled out groan.

“Captain! Oh, thank god!” B’Elanna gasped, flinging her arms around the woman in relief.

“Lanna?” Janeway slurred, mind still groggy as she was embraced, “is everything alright?”

Torres only gripped her tighter, the fear in her heart not having quite subsided. “You dozed off! I just- I saw you lying there and didn’t know what to think. I thought- I thought you were—“

Janeway returned the embrace, lacing her own arms around the Lieutenant and promptly cutting off her frantic attempts at an explanation.

“It’s alright, it’s okay. I’m right here. I’m here. I’m okay.”

B’Elanna pulled away with shaking hands so she could see her Captain’s face. As their eyes met, another bout of relief washed through her as she was profoundly reassured that Kathryn was indeed alive.

As soon as she knew the Captain was healthy, she smacked the woman gently on her right shoulder. “Don’t do that! Holy shit, you scared me!”

Janeway laughed, leaning back against the wall as the Lieutenant recovered her dignity. “It’s nice to know you care!”

Torres pouted, looking away irritably as her Captain continued to laugh. She couldn’t pretend to be mad for long though, she was just glad Kathryn was alive. After a few minutes, the small signs of a smile tugged at her lips as she turned back towards the woman.

Janeway’s laughter died off, and her gaze became more thoughtful as she examined the Lieutenant. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks. I think it was a good idea to stay here for a while.”

Kathryn nodded, “what do you remember?”

The engineer shrugged, “oh, bits and pieces. Nothing really coherent: me getting angry, me feeling lonely. But mostly, I just remember you being there.” She explained, pausing for a moment. She was grateful for her Captain. The truth was she had no idea what she would have done without her. So, after a moment, she added, “thanks for that.”

Janeway smiled, reaching forward and squeezing B’Elanna’s arm lightly, “of course.”

They fell into silence, each just taking in the other's presence.

“Hey, Captain?”

“Hm?”

“If I had to be stuck on a completely barren, god-forsaken planet with a bunch of monster-spider-cannibal-people hell bent on eating me alive… I’m glad it was with you.”

Kathryn beamed, “I couldn’t have asked for a better person to be stuck here with, either.”

“And, B’Elanna.”

“Hm?”

“We’ve been stuck down here long enough… feel free to call me Kathryn.”

The half-klingon laughed, “ha! Thanks for the offer, but I’ll stick to Captain. Calling you by your first name might just be a little too weird for me.”

Janeway smiled fondly, “fair enough.”

They ended up spending a couple more hours in the cave. Engaged in idle, light conversation and basically just conserving their energy for when they finally had the courage to climb down.

Now, after having returned to full strength - or, we’ll, as full of strength as they could get - the pair decided it was time to set out. Kathryn was leaning heavily on B’Elanna as they walked. Her movements were even more lethargic and staggered than they had been the other day.

“We really need to find water. Going another day without it would be…”

B’Elanna didn’t have to finish her sentence for both to know what she was implying. They let the unsaid words hang in the air around them, pushing them onwards in the onslaught of their doom.

“I’m sure we’ll find something here. As we get closer to the surface there’s bound to be some sort of water source.”

As they marched onwards, both women decided to hold on to that fraction of hope. It was better than imagining the alternative. However, as they trekked on, praying to Voyager to come across even a small bounty of water, they forgot one of the most important unspoken rules of survival:

Be careful what you ask for.

An hour into their upward hike, the pair was forced to stop on account of a strange noise coming from a ways up the tunnel. At first, they assumed it was more Arachnomen, and promptly drew their phasers. But after a moment of listening, they realised that the sound wasn’t sharp enough to be that. Instead of the harsh, cutting clack of pincers on rock, this sound was more distant, grand, roaring. It swept across the tunnel with an almost eerie softness despite the increasing noise.

B’Elanna, having the clearer mind of the two, was the first to figure out what it was.

“FLASH FLOOD!

As the words escaped her mouth, a column of water came crashing down through the tunnels. The starfleet officers ran down the tunnel, stumbling down the steep path as the mountain of water surged after them.

Unsurprisingly, the water caught up first. It seized both of the women in its grip, dragging them along in its wake as it rushed down the tunnel at an incomprehensible speed. The humanoids inside the current thrashed violently. Their heads periodically broke the surface just long enough to take a breath, before they were slammed back down under the unforgiving force of the water.

In an instant, they swept past the cave they’d just spent the night in, and lurked back down the winding tunnel.

After being hurled against stone wall after stone wall, Janeway was relieved to see the current finally straighten out as it hurtled her towards the entrance of the cavern with the ravine. Just as she was about to be spat back into the open over, the Captain managed to grab hold of a small ledge at the top of the tunnel entrance. The second she did, a flash in the water caught her eye. With the speed of a viper she thrust her hand down into the furred, and grabbed hold of the Lieutenant’s hand.

B’Elanna lurched to a halt, the wave of the flash flood continuing to ram into her as the Captain tried desperately to keep her grip. Janeway was pulled forward, the small handhold that she clung to threatened to give way as she fought desperately to pull B’Elanna out of the water.

It was a useless battle. One human, dehydrated, and exhausted and at the mercy of the poison in her veins didn’t stand a chance against the endless strength of the tide. Still, though, she refused to let go as the lip in the entrance began to crumble.

“Captain! YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO!” B’Elanna yelled over the roar of the flood, her brown eyes full of despair as she watched her Captain battle with all her strength to save her life. It hurt too much to watch.

“I’M NOT LEAVING YOU!” Janeway responded, pulling harder against the current, ignoring the cracks that formed around her quivering hand.

“Captain—“

“We are in this together! We are down here together!”

“The ledge is about to give way! You can’t hold on forever! You have to let go!”

The ledge crumbled even more, and Janeway felt every essence of her being torn between saving herself, and saving her friend.

They had been through so much in these tunnels together. Comforted each other when they were down. Healed each other when they were hurt. Kathryn didn’t think she would have been able to get nearly this far if it weren’t for B’Elanna, and she would bet that the same could be said vice versa.

They were in this together. They had to stay together. But Janeway’s grip was weakening, arms shook with the effort of keeping them there, and she could feel her concentration clouding.

But the Captain wouldn’t leave her Lieutenant. Not now. Not ever.

She looked down at B’Elanna, a new found resolve washing over her as she met the engineer’s gaze. Torres must have seen it in her eyes. The choice she’d made. Because she immediately began to protest.

“Captain, wait, don’t—“

Her plea was cut off as Kathryn let go of the ledge. Immediately both women surged forward, and the Captain pulled B’Elanna tightly into her arms. The tide swallowed them into its watery depths. Their bodies were smashed, thrashed and tossed around as they slid into the cavern, but the pair held fast for each other.

The current took them both, throwing them over the cliff together. And, as their heads broke free of the water just enough to see ground below come rushing forward, the Captain closed her eyes. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

They were in this together.

They live together, they die together.

#star trek #star trek voyager #kathryn janeway #b’elanna torres #platonic #sick janeway #maternal janeway #concussed b’elanna #mood swings #emotional b’elanna #Kathryn is there #They’re doing their best #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #shit’s about to get real #Title drop #no beta we die like admiral janeway

0 notes

sethadams-cursed · 11 months ago

Text

Now he was sure it had to be here. This was the next place he had wandered off to after dropping his siblings (Gremlins the lot of them) at the arcade. He toed the grass where he had sneaked a smoke, careful to stay out of sight of his dibby dobber siblings who would use it against him. The brunette really hoped it wasn't lost. It wasn't that he had any money in it—his father had taught him years ago never to put anything valuable in a wallet. No, it was because it was a Spook FM limited edition wallet that he had won only a few weeks ago.

After promising a whole hour on his computer, he had managed to get his brother to call up (one day he'd manage to do it himself without panicking at the idea of talking to Stevie Wayne and slamming down the receiver on her ear) and guess the Friday Spook Trivia night's mystery movie. The contest involved only three key words, and you had to use your brain to piece them together into a movie from the last decade. Seth considered himself a savant at it. His mother would have cried if she knew how many movies he watched just for fun nowadays. Let alone the type of them.

Just when he was about ready to give up, Seth straightened his neck and spotted his wallet, abandoned on top of a fence post. Out of habit, he whispered, "Barukh HaShem," before walking over and picking it up. Everything was still there, though that was mainly because the only things inside were an Elf card (being held hostage from Ben until he stopped turning the gas off whenever Seth took a shower) and a picture of him and Jennifer. What a relief.

The show inside the tent must have been about ready to kick off, because soon Seth found himself being pushed towards an excitable crowd. Since he still had time to kill before he needed to take his brothers and sister home, he thought, why not? Even before, a voice rose up beside him. "Haven't seen this year's show yet, but if it's anything like last year's, I'd recommend sitting towards the back…" With a laugh, Seth eyed the figure beside him, trying to work out if they had a pet registered at his clinic, before extending his hand. "Seth. And what's got you checking out the Slideshow this year?"

WHO: Hale + open @thecursed-starters

WHEN: 1 June 1989

WHERE: Side Show

If there was one thing Hale had mastered in their time on earth, it was the art of gliding through life mostly unnoticed, a definite boon for someone with a penchant for taking things that didn't belong to them. A negative experience could easily be made positive enough to not be memorable, and distractable enough to allow them to slip away with a ring or a wallet or a watch. Some vampires supported their exceptionally long lifespans with other pursuits; Hale made theirs by way of asset redistribution.

It was this talent that made carnivals particularly fun. People were already distracted, and then add to that the crush of the crowd and the grace with which they moved and everything could be theirs. Hale rifled through a nicked wallet as they remained on the periphery of the crowd, and upon finding nothing of particular interest, they abandoned it atop a fence post that gated off part of the side show stage before they continued to the stage itself.

"See anything interesting?" they said as they watched a crowd funnel towards the show itself, a curl of a grin on their lips as they spoke.

#seth x hale #event: 001 #event: carnival #location: slideshow #ooc: jennifer is his tarantula not his gf just fyi

2 notes · View notes

stupidlovergirl · 2 years ago

Text

My New Girlfriend In which they get transformed into girls for a period of time Feat. Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor Dev Notes: I love girls so much they are so hot hnrghhh I'm sorry if it isn't the best, I wanted to write it but it got a little difficult and wanted to post smthing for you guys. Not edited

The Anti-Lucifer League has come up with their latest plan, turning Lucifer into a woman by the usage of a curse on the jacket he wears daily. As he put on his jacket, the morphing started. After he realized what had happened, there was no stopping it. Lucifer had fully turned into a female for a full 24 hours. Sighing, he, er, she? She went to find Satan and Belphie and scold them for their prank, but it went through one ear and out the other. The rest of the morning went without a problem, as there was no RAD or meeting for her to attend. It wasn’t until you came to have lunch with her was the predicament seen by anyone else but the culprits.

“Well, well, well… look at my pretty girlfriend doing her paperwork” you spoke, smugness in your voice. Lucifer looked up, anger on her face.

“If you came to taunt, I welcome you to leave before I get angry" she replies, tone sharp and dangerous.

Approaching where she sat behind her test, a smile stretching even further across your cheeks at her glare.

Humming, you softly card your hand through her hair, pulling her head close to her stomach.

"My pretty girlfriend" you whisper, and feel all the tension holding in her body melt away. After all, pretty girls don't need to be so stressed.

Mammon has once again, had a plan backfire intensely on him. Stealing a book that looked like it could get him a pretty Grimm was his downfall. Now, he was processing the extremely feminine figure that he owned.

"Mammon! I have you seen my- oh, oh"

Whipping around, the two of you just stood, looking at each other.

"Listen human! Don't look so in disbelief-" Mammon starts on another rant, about how he is so great even as a girl or something. You don't know, as you're trying to process how someone can look so hot as both genders. Some people just get it all, you guess.

"You're hot" you blurt out, cutting off the never ending rant from the prettiest girl you ever had the pleasure of seeing

"O-oh course I am human!!" she announced loudly, but the high pitch was disguising nothing.

Laughing, you go and wrap your arms around her waist, “My pretty girlfriend. Maybe I should show her off, hmm?” you tease.

“Stop” she whispers quietly, burying her head into the crook of your neck.

“Okay, okay, just for you pretty girl”

You hear her squeak and can’t help but giggle in response.

Levi was going insane. He feels like the main character of “Help! I Constantly Am Getting Cursed and it Keeps Causing Problems!” where in the one episode that he too, was turned into a girl with no clue on how it happened and how to change back. Gah! He has too much anime to watch and in this new physical form everything feels-

“Levi!! Look at this new two player game I got usss…” you trail off, looking at the cute girl who used to be your cute boyfriend.

“Like the new form, what caused you to try this one out cutie” you say with a wink.

“Stop with your normie tactics! I didn’t try this out, it suddenly happened” she says, stanced like she was going to fight you.

“I’m not complaining,” is all you say, making it obvious that you were checking her out.

“StOP!”her voice cracks, hiding her face in her hands.

“Cute girls should be looked at Levi, you of all people should know that!” you say, walking closer and pulling her hands away from her face. She squeaks loudly, and attempts to run away. You know her tactics at this point and prevent her from running by wrapping your arm around her waist a pulling her close

“Going somewhere baby?”

“STOP IT NORMIE”

Preparing a curse that he was going to use on Lucifer has ended in ruin, and now Satan is looking at himself, but it is, well, different. At least he knows if he learns to cast it will be good to use. His hair is longer, and his chest is obviously heavier. Next time you ask for a back massage, he will indulge you, it must be hard to have to deal with them all the time. As he continues looking at himself in a more feminine form, she never hears you open the door.

“It’s nice to know you realize how pretty you look like this, darling”

Satan jumps, and turns to see you, looking at her from the doorway.

“It is new is all,” she replies while turning away, “I just wanted to make sure that the curse worked is all”

“It worked quite well if you asked me” you reply, coming closer and wrapping your hands around her waist. You hear her quietly huff, but in the mirror you see her smile.

“You look pretty,” you whisper into her shoulder

“Thank you, love, you look magnificent yourself” you smile at her reply. Using your hands, you pull her to turn to you. She indulges you, and finally you get to see her really pretty face even closer. You smile, pulling her down for a kiss that she easily indulges in.

Asmo doesn’t know what happened, and honestly doesn’t care. He was too wrapped up in looking at this cute new form. He did shoot you a text that he had a surprise for you. She was holding different clothes up to her new body, seeing what would look better on her.

“Asmo? What’s up?” you ask as you walk into the 5th born’s room.

“Honey! Which one do you think looks better”, you him- no, her, ask you. You look, mouth agape as you look at the pretty woman in front of you

“I, you, Asmo, what??” you say, trying to make a connection of how your boyfriend has now turned into your girlfriend.

“Don’t I look cute?” Asmo says, striking a pose for you.

“Adorable as always babe, but what happened?” you ask, walking towards her.

“I dunno! I just went with it though” she replies, turning back to the mirror, “Now, which one?”

“I like the first one” you reply, sitting down on the bed.

“Hmm, I do too,” she says. She sets the outfit down, and approaches you.

“You never said if you liked the surprise” she pouts, running her hands across your shoulders.

“I love anything when it comes to you” you reply, smiling up at her. She hums, happy with your response. She leans down and kisses you. Softly cupping your cheek and slightly nipping at your lip. She pulls away all too soon, leaving you breathless.

“You’re so cute” is all she says as she goes in for another kiss.

Beel is confused. He doesn’t understand what happened, at one point he was just eating some food, next he felt his body was different, changing. Turns out the cake he ate was cursed to turn anyone brave enough to eat it into a girl. He just shrugged it off and went about his day. It wasn’t until he saw you did he really remember what happened

“Beel! You look so cute” you gushed, and Beel blushed. “Cute girl, pretty girl” you coo up at her.

“Do you think I really look that good?” she asks, blushing a bright red.

“Of course baby! I think you’d look good no matter what you were!” you said, nuzzling into her stomach. She giggles, smiling at you. Pulling away, you look up at her with adoration.

“Kiss?” and Beel indulges you, bending down and placing your lips together. Your both smiling a little bit, and as you pull away from each other, your grin widens. “Another!” you demand, and once again she indulges you. She bends down and cups your face and places her lips against your again. You pull her in even closer, leaning closer together. This one is longer than the first, and when you both pull away your breathless.

“Thank you” you say, “Nothing beats a kiss from someone so cute” you reply with a wink. She just smiles down at you.

“Well, let’s go get something to eat, baby” is all you say, laughing at the excitement in her eyes.

Belphie wakes up from a nap with you a feels a little different. Letting out a soft grunt, he turns towards you

“Wake up” he says, shaking you, but he realizes his voice sounds different. “Mmprh, Belphie what is it?” you say, opening your eyes. Then, they open wider.

“Belphie, holy shit”

“What?”

“You’re a girl!” you say, tiredness and amusement are in your voice, “A very pretty, pretty girl” you tag on smiling at her.

“Ugh, the thought of it makes me tired” she replies, turning back around.

“Hey!” you reply with a giggle, “C’mon! Let me look at you more!”

Turning her onto her back, you move to sit on top of her thighs. You place a quick kiss onto her forehead, and the ends of her mouth quirk up.

“What do you think happened? Did you make someone mad or something?”

“Dunno, don’t care” is all she replies. You smile, leaning down to place a quick kiss on top of her closed eyes.

“Stop that” she says, opening her eyes with a glare.

“Make me, brat” you reply with a smugness in your voice. Belphie huffs, and closes her eyes. While you take the time to admire her face. You always thought Belphie looked cute sleeping, but right now she looks like Sleeping Beauty, and it makes you think of all the stories you heard as a child.

“A princess, cursed to sleep forever, will be awakened by a kiss from her true love!” you say, flourish in your voice as you lean down and place a kiss onto her lips. Belphie reciprocates immediately, and flips the two of you in the middle of it. When you pull away, she is hovering above you.

“You’re annoying, did you know that?” she says, but it’s obvious that she is not upset at all

“You can’t expect me to leave you around when you look so pretty”

“Then you’ll pay for it” is all she says before bites you.

“Hey! Ow!” “You’ll regret waking up this ‘princess’,”

Good luck

#lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #obey me x reader #obswd x reader #lucifer x you #mammon x you #leviathan x you #asmodeus x you #beelzebub x you #belphegor x you #obey me x you #obswd x you #bunny's.game.collection

655 notes · View notes

twistedmusings · 4 years ago

Text

How the dorm leaders react when they catch you kissing someone from their dorm [Part 2]

A/N: AND HERE IT IS! Oh my god I still can't believe I managed to get this done! I actually stayed on task! Honestly these three were probably my favourite from the original post, I've had far too much fun writing these bois.

And what can I say? Playfully flirty MC is a good MC u wu

Warnings: Heavy smooching, possessive talk, and the reader just really pushing the dorm leader's buttons~

Part 1 here!

“How dare you...?”

Vil was more than happy to be coming back to Pomefiore with all the stuff that had happened today. Classes were more annoying than usual, he had to chase Leona down to tell him to get his work done and there had been some problems in the modeling studio that caused the lights to be brighter than usual and now he had a headache that only a nap could fix.

Thing was, if he wanted to keep his schedule as tight as possible he would need to stay awake for...another 6 hours.

One good thing was waiting for him though. Rook had greeted him at the entrance and let him know that the Ramshackle prefect was in the dorm today as per his request.

Good.

This would keep him awake. He remembers promising you a lesson in proper skincare in order to remedy whatever you did once you woke up in the morning. Deep in the back of his head he remembers you telling him that you just splash cold water on your face but he preferred to think that you at least put some sort of moisturizer. Maybe.

He rushes to his room to freshen up and makes sure that he has the materials he needs. Vil had decided that his own brand of face cleansing products would be a good start for your skin. The tingles in his fingertips went ignored as he thought of you thinking about him in the morning. It wasn’t that sort of thing at all, he reminded himself. Dorm leaders were supposed to help each other out, despite how often they were at each other’s throats, and he was just fulfilling his role not just as a dorm leader but as a...friend.

Vil takes one last look at the mirror and makes his way down the row of rooms in Pomefiore to reach the Lounge, only to stop when he sees you being pulled into one of the many rooms by what was clearly a Pomefiore’s students hand.

Wait what?

It’s almost alarming how quickly he approaches the door and puts his foot in it, choosing to stay quiet as he sees that the two people in the room didn’t even bother to wonder why the door hadn’t closed all the way. The student was pressing kisses against your lips in small intervals, choosing instead to talk as you run your hands up the expensive purple robe and taking in the little designs.

“I had a new lip scrub I wanted you to try out.”

“Really? Then why aren’t we in the bathroom?"

“That’s rather forward for a dorm leader. Is everyone in Ramshackle this daring?”

Vil couldn’t even pinpoint the student’s name. That was your first offense. The only thing he remembers about him is the man’s caramel brown hair and how it contrasted beautifully against his dark skin. After that, nothing could pop into his head that would make that student even remotely interesting for you to be hanging off of him like that! Of all the people to be with, it just had to be a nameless potato, didn’t it?

The hairs at the back of his head stand up as the potato hands you what he believes to be the best lip scrub in the business, which only makes the alarms in Vil’s head go off even louder. That brand wasn’t even known for doing lip scrubs! In fact, they once put out a three in one shampoo/conditioner and the fact that the student even had that brand in the dorms and you just blatantly accepting it was your second offense.

And as much as he wanted to focus on that being the thing that truly bothered him, he felt the alarms deafening him as he saw the potato’s hands wrap around your waist as he kissed you again, your lips parting to let him inside.

He shouldn’t be looking at this, he should be leaving and just leave you to your own devices. The lesson wasn’t important, you weren’t that important to him--

Amethyst eyes widen when you tilt your head as the student starts kissing down your neck, already choosing one spot to make his own as he licks and nips at the skin while you dig your fingers into his robe.

Vil didn’t really know how to describe the sudden surge of energy that caused him to fling the door open and grab the student by the back of his robe and pull him backwards, eyes glaring at you the entire time as you whisper his name, as if suddenly remembering that you had a previous engagement before this whole ‘sticking your tongue down a Pomefiore student’s throat’’ business.

“Prefect. My room. Now.”

You put your hands up and walk out of the room without looking at him, Vil letting go of the student’s robes and walking out after you. He didn’t even need to tell him that he was in trouble, the student would realize it soon enough once Rook delivered the chores that needed to be done by tonight.

A list only that student would be getting instead of the entire dorm.

Vil closes the door of his room and turns the lock rather harshly, looking back at you sitting at the edge of his bed still staring at the window. You weren’t trying to defend yourself, you weren’t even looking at him.

“I hate to be kept waiting, Prefect. Not just that, it is extremely rude to keep someone waiting just so you can fraternize with someone in my dorm.”

No answer. He grabs his desk chair and sits down so he can face you directly.

“What made you go and pick that potato?”

“Why would that be any of your business Vil-senpai?”

It was very much his business, if you asked him. He would have been okay if it was Epel or even Rook that you had picked to make out with but he wasn’t just going to stand around and watch as one of the student’s whose name he didn’t even know threw all of his work out of the window! So he asked the question again, this time getting a chuckle as an answer which only served to upset him even more.

“Out of anyone in my dorm you could have picked, you had to go with someone who offers you such a low quality brand of lip scrub?”

“That is your problem with this? What he offered me? Me and him just started hanging out, we know nothing about each other! I just wanted to change that.”

His headache was coming back again.

Vil put hard work into everything he did. That was his work ethic and people be damned if they thought it was too much. Maybe they couldn’t handle it but they still respected it, respected his craft and the work he put into it.

So why do you, of all of his recent projects, disrespect him so blatantly?

It was clear you weren’t ready yet, Vil wasn’t done working with you yet. After doing something like this, and right inside his dorm, he knew that you had just taken all of the careful brushes and strokes he had decorated your canvas with…

And burnt it right in front of his eyes.

Which is why he didn’t necessarily feel any guilt when he grabbed your cheeks and pulled his own lipstick out of his back pocket, ignoring your protests.

“Quiet.”

He applies the shade quickly and before you have any chance to protest, pushes his lips against yours.

The kiss is anything but sweet. It’s almost punishing. Vil was reminding you that you were a work in progress. He still had so much left to teach you, so much left to work with you and if you kept rushing things you were going to make him mad. Once he was done with you, you could go about your pitiful little life and kiss whoever you wanted and he wouldn’t even bat an eyelash.

A hand grasps at his wrists as you press his palms on your cheeks, your tongue gently pressing against his lips so you could slip inside--

Nevermind. This sort of impatient kissing would also have to go.

He pulls away and pushes you onto the mattress, your eyes hazy with eagerness and confusion as Vil removes his jacket and gloves and leans down to trap you below him.

“Were you this greedy with him? Did he also get this treatment from you? No, don’t answer. I fear I’ll only get angrier if you do. Now be an obedient little potato and stay still, the first thing I’ll fix is that messy kissing of yours.”

“ :( “

Snacks runs had to be the most annoying and heart pounding of his usual daily life quests. If waking up was a struggle enough, especially when no special loot such as new anime or manga was available, it was hard to complete such basic tasks without some sort of incentive.

Although Idia guessed that not dying of starvation was enough of an incentive.

He walks down the corridor of his own dorm, humming a quiet tune to himself as he looks down at all the snacks he had acquired. Which, score! They even had a limited edition chip flavor that came with the card of one of his favourite idols! It took everything in his power to not just spend all of his money on more than one bag but he had such a good day today that he knew his gacha pull luck just had to be good.

The door to a room behind him opens, Idia quickly picking up his pace and hiding behind a corner as he looks at who it could be. He isn't against anyone in his dorm but...he didn't have the means to engage in any conversation that wasn't about his current FPS game or Gakemo so--

"Thank you for the help! I thought my phone was beyond repair!"

His hands tighten around the chips pressed tight to his chest, eyes wide in surprise as he sees you stepping out of the room.

Of all people...why were you here so late?

The student laughs as he scratches the back of his head, handing you back your phone and looking away.

“No--No problem! I...I honestly didn’t think you would come to me for help. I integrated the newest magical technology on it as well as voice activated features and a--a brand new messaging app that sends messages faster!”

Idia clicked his tongue as he heard the student speak. Look at him showing off. You didn’t know that he was taking advantage of your naive mind! You didn’t know anything about magic so, of course, all those features would sound fancy!

When it was literally taking your phone and just downloading some fancy new apps on it!

Yet there you were, marveling down at it as if you had just gotten the latest version.

Well maybe he shouldn’t complain too much, even from here he could see your smile. A part of him worried that all this luck he was suddenly getting would affect the luck he would get on his chip bag but...you were worth it.

Such a rare event shouldn’t be left unnoticed.

Maybe...maybe if he stayed here you could walk by and he could open up the ‘bumping into each other late at night’ event?

“So how can I repay you? Do you need anything done?”

Idia tunes back into the conversation as he frowns, looking back at the two of you as the student looks at every single corner of the ceiling instead of looking at you.

Payment? The guy had just downloaded a couple of apps that wasn’t good enough reason to offer some sort of payment. He frowns and taps his foot impatiently as the guy stutters out a few excuses before finally giving you an answer.

“A ki--A kiss? Would that be alright?”

The Ignihyde dorm leader almost falls down as he hears that, retreating further into his corner as he glared daggers at the guy who had just dared to ask for such a bold request.

A k--kis--kiss? A kiss...from you?

This guy was starting to piss him off! He should just be content staring at you! You were a SSR character all on your own! That guy should be happy he even got to talk to you at all and shouldn’t ask for more than he was given! He already rolled for such a life changing event why would he even want more!

His eyes soften when he sees you mull it over. It was okay, you could reject him. Such a guy wouldn’t even be worthy of a kiss from you so you so all you had to do was say no! Go on, [Y/N], just reject hi--

Idia can feel his heart breaking as his muscles stop working, dropping all of his stuff on the floor with a thud as the sound echoes. Yet it went ignored, the other two people in the hallway too busy with their own activities.

When...when had you even kissed him? Idia only remembers you putting your phone away and the moment he blinked you had already pressed your lips against that other guy--!

He should be leaving, why isn’t he moving?

The student’s hand goes to your waist as you deepen it, his face turning a deep shade of red as you pull away and tap his lips.

“Was that your first kiss?”

“...y--yes..”

You were smiling and giving him such a rare, almost ultimately rare item and Idia didn’t know how long he could stare until he combusted.

So all he could do was turn around…

And run as fast as he could.

He ignored the familiar voice calling out his name, footsteps quickly following him as he started to run out of breath.

Making a poor otaku like him run, even now you were still being so cruel to him!

Idia’s door slides open as he bursts inside, ready to bury himself in his bed and never come out again--!

Only to stop when he hears you hiss in pain.

Blue eyes turn around to see your foot jammed into his doorway, not allowing the electric door to slide closed. A part of him wants to immediately go to you and ask if you were alright but he stops himself as the image of your kiss flashes through his mind again.

“[Y/N]-shi! W--What--!”

You rub at your foot and sigh, walking in with a confused look as Idia presses his back against his bookshelf. He knew it. If a SSR character could be brought to real life, this is the sort of power they would have over him.

The kind of aura you were emitting was enough for him to want to get on his knees, but he chose to remain strong.

“I was calling out to you…didn’t you hear me?”

Idia turns his head and looks at the floor, the pain still raw and emotionally taxing than what he was used to. Disappointment was one thing but heartbreak was a complete other monster!

“Shouldn’t--Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend?”

He spits the word out, annoyed that a guy from his dorm could unlock...no...could get someone like you. You were open to every single activity Idia gave you, you gave him good feedback and didn’t get scared when you two disagreed on something. Every manga he gave you, you read and every anime he told you to watch, you would watch it.

You were receptive, you were attentive, you were what Idia wanted in a real life friend!

He hadn’t dared hope for more!

That still didn’t mean he couldn’t fantasize when he was all by himself.

“Boyfriend…?”

You tilt your head in confusion before chuckling as you realized what had happened.

“Oh so you saw that.”

Is that all you were going to say?! You had just taken his heart and crushed it into tiny little pieces and you were just going to talk about what a pervert he was being!

Someone just KO him now, like right now!

“Yes...I saw. So what? You were just ki-kissi--doing that thing from everyone to see! So you should just go back to him instead of bullying me in my own room!”

Please just leave, he wanted to cry in peace.

Yet you stubbornly remain, just like the first time he met you.

“Idia I don’t know what crazy assumptions you are making but that guy isn’t my boyfriend.”

You put up one finger.

“He fixed my phone…”

Another one follows after.

“And he asked for a kiss for payment. Simple as that. You shouldn’t act like you caught us doing something major. It was just a kis---”

Large hands land on your shoulders as Idia now stands in front of you, head hung low as he mutters something to himself.

“Just a kiss….just a kiss.”

You jump as he gets close to your face, eyes staring at you pleadingly as he cupped your face.

“JUST A KISS? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU ARE? AN EXTRA RARE CHARACTER SUCH AS YOURSELF SHOULDN’T BE GIVING OUT SUCH RARE ITEMS LIKE THAT!”

He shakes you back and forth.

“IF YOUR KISS WAS JUST NORMAL THEN EVEN I...I COULD--”

Idia’s eyes fall on your lips, the rush of adrenaline mixed in with his built up desire for you all culminating in two choices popping up in his head. And for the first time, he knew that hesitation was not an option.

So he dives in.

His lips met yours roughly, not really moving them or anything but just pressing them against you. You put your hands gently on his chest but he takes it as a protest, which only causes him to push them onto yours even more.

This was...disastrous.

He had never kissed anyone before. How in the world did he think that he would be able to kiss you? Ah, maybe this was a dream? Right! He had just dreamed all of this up and you didn’t really force your way into his room to confront him!

His hair flares up when you cup his face, pushing him away slightly and tilting him in such a way that your lips would meet in a much softer fashion. He looks down and sees you closing your eyes, following in your footsteps and melting inside your kiss.

You both pull away slowly, Idia opening his eyes and blushing when he sees you licking your lips and sending him a teasing grin.

A rare sight...made only for him.

“I feel like I just spent all my stamina on this one event...so I don’t want to go unrewarded. Can we go further? I want to go further. What option do I have to pick for you to do that again, [Y/N]?”

“Don’t touch them.”

“YOUNG MASTER! WHERE ARE YOU!”

Malleus sighs as he looks on at the Diasmonia students gathered around the outskirts of the school, smiling as he sees Sebek directing them each and every way. Sebek really didn’t give up, did he? One of his classes had been canceled and he was eager to see the gargoyles around Ramshackle in a much better light but he figured Sebek would cause up a stir when he didn’t find him in his classroom.

As much as he appreciated him, Sebek didn’t have to walk him to every single class.

He sighs and goes deeper into the woods behind Ramshackle, the small broken path there leading him down a familiar terrain.

This is where he usually walked with you, after all.

Seeing this place in bright light was so very different. Instead of it being illuminated by his lights, the sun peeked out from over the trees and provided a sunny trail instead of the usual moonlight. He took a deep breath as he breathed in the smell of flowers all around, all of them growing wildly around him and defying any human to try and tame them.

His fingers trace some of the thorns he found on some of them, the flowers attracted to his touch and moving closer to his hands as a small vine wrapped around his finger.

All with his magic’s help after all.

This was his safe space. Malleus would come here during his first and second year and lose himself in the wilderness. In here no one would fear him. Here every single thing was responsive to his touches and even dared to touch back. Some of the wild rose bushes also reminded him of him, Malleus adding a bit more thorns around the flowers as in to emulate the very home he missed.

In this lonely place, he flourished.

But it wasn’t so lonely now, was it?

His third year had brought one big surprise. A human. A child of man who did not know who he was or what he was capable of. They looked at him as if he was just any other stranger roaming around their dorm and not the next ruler of the Valley of Thorns.

And Malleus, being the very curious person he is, found himself pulled to your inattentiveness.

He had dropped many hints that he was eager to get to know you more, relishing in the fact that you two were starting to get closer. And while he had hoped to keep his identity a secret a bit longer, he found it almost unbearable for you to not know who he was.

If you were so open with who you were, then he should show you the same kind of respect.

How wonderful that you were now on a first name basis with each other.

Malleus could walk over to Ramshackle dorm now and knock on your door without hesitation, smiling as he sees your excitement at just what places you two would discover in the dead of night.

Bummer you couldn’t be with him now.

He had seen you come out of your dorm and ask Sebek if he needed any help, to which the fae replied rather rudely that no human could ever track down his young master, so he was a bit reluctant to discover any more places without you by his side.

These walks were something you two did together, after all.

So he remained at this spot, touching everything and anything that would strike his fancy while going deeper and deeper into a small clearing you two had found. A large tree decorated its middle, the leaves falling gently upon the ground as the sun shone down on the large pond that provided this part of the forest with the water it needed to balance out the sun’s gentle rays.

“Shhhh, don’t make too much noise.”

Malleus stops as he hears your voice, his head immediately turning towards the sound as he hears rustling behind him. He smiles and turns to where he thought you were coming from only to be struck by a sudden idea--and immediately hiding among the trees and bushes so you couldn’t see him.

Would you be surprised to find him here?

He hoped so. Malleus had the habit of appearing to you suddenly so this wouldn’t be breaking any traditions between you two. If he played his cards right, you might join him on a walk all the way to the edge of the island.

“Prefect do you know where you are going?”

“I do! I’ve been here so many times. Now come on!”

Another person’s voice. No...he had heard that voice before.

Malleus retreats back into his hiding spot as he sees you rush by, holding by the hand a Diasmonia student as he rushes to follow you. You smile and turn around, still holding his hand while the other looked on in amazement at where you had led him.

“Prefect...this is…”

“Like it? Me and Malleus found it a while ago. This is how we know we are close to the edge of the forest.”

The Diasmonia dorm leader smiles as he watches you show the student around, pointing out different sights and sounds as the other watched on in amazement. That student probably had never gone anywhere this secret and while Malleus was glad you were showing off the place you two shared…

There was a feeling deep inside his chest that flared up angrily as he caught the student looking at you more than his surroundings.

Green eyes watch as the student’s hand clenches and unclenches, seemingly working up the courage to do something as you continue speaking. Which was rather rude, in Malleus’s opinion. You were explaining some wonderful things about the flora here and he was just staring at you without engaging in the conversation.

And how did you two know each other? Malleus had never mentioned you in Diasmonia except to Silver and Lilia, had he known you before him?

Malleus hands grip the tree bark tighter as the student takes your hand, stopping your explanation as he gets you to focus your attention on him.

What--?

“I’ve been eager to find some time alone with you.”

The student clears his throat before pulling you by the hand gently, your surprised look turning into one of playfulness as you follow along with his movements. He leads you to the edge of the pond, spinning you around as you allow him to position you in such a way that you are now closer to him than before.

Which only makes the angry feeling in Malleus’s gut flare up even more.

“Have you now? What for?”

An answer Malleus wanted to know as well.

Blushing, the student smiles and leads you into a dance with no music which only served to make you laugh and make Malleus’s fingers dig deep into the wood of the poor tree.

In the dragon fae’s eyes, you two are dancing for hours without caring about who was around. Why had he even brought you here? This student was part of Sebek’s surveillance crew and yet here he was not doing his job. But he wasn’t the one who brought you here…

You were.

Your actions were lost on Malleus as the dance finishes up, the student dipping you low before bringing you up.

“So you brought me here to dance? Who knew Diasmonia students were so charming.”

Malleus didn’t like the way you were smiling, nor how your hands rested on the student’s shoulders. He hadn’t seen this side of you before, you were playing along with this student and his motives.

Had you always been so playful? Malleus had only seen you during the night and whenever you two spoke it was a conversation worthy of two friends sharing experiences together.

But not this...never this…

“Well, not just a dance. I’ve wanted to state my intentions outright.”

The tree starts to crack slowly as Malleus can feel more thorns growing out of the rose bushes around him.

“Ever since you arrived, you have been an enigma to me. You are always so helpful even to those who do not seek your aid. Even now, you didn’t have to help me search for our Young Master."

He wasn’t searching for anyone, he was too close to you for Malleus’s liking and he needed to learn how to respect your boundaries.

“Yet you still offered me your help...and I…I want to...”

The student was leaning closer as his hands slid down to your waist, Malleus staring as you started to tilt your head as you placed your hands on his chest while his lips were dead set on meeting yours--!

Your face is tilted up as cold lips meet yours, your mouth opening in a surprised gasp as the hold the student had on you was no longer shy and timid but angry and possessive. These lips were pulling you in closer and closer, greedily eating each and every sound you were making as the air was slowly stolen from your lungs.

A string of saliva is left hanging as you two separate, your eyes fluttering open as you think of something to say to such a ravishing kiss.

Only for them to open wide in surprise as you see who you had really kissed.

“Malleus!?”

You turn to look behind the fae’s back, the Diasmonia student looking at his Young Master in mild panic and surprise while Malleus presses you close against his chest, clearly hiding you from view.

Right before the student even had a chance to taste your lips, Malleus had rushed out of his hiding place and pulled him away by the collar of his shirt.

For a dragon to watch on as something that was his was so close to be taken away, the surprise must have gotten to him.

“Go tell Sebek to head back to Diasmonia and call off his search. I will be there by nightfall.”

The student tries to stutter out a response but Malleus glares back as he keeps you pressed firmly against him.

“Now.”

You watch the student leave in a hurry, following the broken path you had led him in with. Your eyes peek up to look at Malleus but the dorm leader waits until the sound of footsteps is long gone before tilting your face up again and leaning down to press his lips against yours in another rough and dominating kiss.

Hands push you forward as your back collides with the huge tree in the clearing, Malleus making sure that the back of your head meets the bark gently as his lips never parted from yours. You wrap your arms around him as best as you could and let out an involuntary squeak when the fae decides to pick you up so that you could pull him in even closer.

He is the one to pull away first, hands firmly on your bottom as you wrap your legs around his waist to support yourself.

“Malleus--”

The fae presses another kiss to your lips, effectively silencing you so that all your attention would be on him.

“Don’t ever bring someone else into this place, child of man. Do I make myself clear? This place is our haven and I will not have someone else come steal both it and you away from me. Well, even if you don’t understand, I’ll make sure to explain it to you thoroughly. Now...kiss me again.”

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #twst mc #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #vil x reader #idia x reader #malleus x reader #twst headcanons #twst imagines #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #//TO THE PEOPLE WHO ASKED ME ABOUT THIS A LOT!#//THIS IS FOR YOU!

2K notes · View notes

tonystarksfavoritedaughter · 4 years ago

Text

Crazy Rich Avengers

Chapter 1:

Summary: You and Peter have been dating for a little over 6 months and have not yet met the Avengers. You were getting curious as to when you would meet them, until you get an invitation from Tony Stark himself, inviting you and Peter to Wanda and Vision’s wedding in Hawaii over Spring Break. You thought that it would be nice to go and finally meet everyone, but what will you think after you’ve been tested by the team?

*Based on the movie Crazy Rich Asians, each chapter will be a different scene from the movie. There will be 15 chapters. Also includes a GIF from the movie scene at the beginning of each chapter.

A/N: I’ve had this series planned for a little while now, and I just got this chapter done and edited and I feel really good about it. I didn’t know if anyone would want to read this until I posted about it yesterday and got some really good feedback, so thank you all who liked it and asked to be on the taglist so much! This chapter is the first scene of the movie, just some things are switched up to fit Peter and the Avengers. Just note that this one is kind of short and nothing much really happens in this chapter since it is just the beginning, but hopefully the next one is a bit juicer.

Warnings: swearing and fluff

Word count: 2166

Chapter 1

“Okay class, make sure to email me those presentations by Monday. I don’t want to keep reminding you guys over Spring Break because I’ve still got a life outside being a professor.” The whole class laughs at your professor’s bluntness. It kind of reminds you of your friend from high school, who would always spoke her truth, even when no one asked for it. You packed your things and waited for a clear space to exit your row. Who knew so many kids would be in a business class? Not you apparently. You were a culinary student at the Institute of Culinary Education or ICE for short. Your dream was to become a baker and own your bakery, hence the business class. This was your last class of the day, and you couldn’t wait to see your boyfriend. You two had been dating for a little over six months and it was the best six months you could ever ask for.

You exited out of the classroom, finally, and made your way towards the elevator. On the way down, you looked through your messages and saw that you had five new texts from Peter.

Peter: Hey babe! I’m out of my photography class now. (1:15)

Peter: Waiting by the couches (1:15)

Peter: I miss you (1:17)

Peter: I’m hungry. Let’s go to that pizza place for lunch. I really want some of their cannoli’s (1:20)

Peter: Y/NNN!!! WHERE ARE YOU??? (1:23)

The elevator stopped at the lobby and you walked over to Peter, who sprang out of his seat and practically ran over to you. He hugged with the force of what you assumed felt like ten tons just based on how tight he held you. You laughed at his clinginess and pushed him off of you.

“Dude my class ran like ten minutes late. What’s the matter with you?” you laugh.

He held your hand in his own and smiles at you. “Just missed you is all. Did you see my text about the cannoli’s?”

“Yeah I saw it.”

“And?” he asks hopefully.

“Aaaaaand what?” you played dumb just to see his cute pouty face.

“Can we get cannoli’s?”

“Yes, we can get a cannoli.”

“Ah! You’re the best! Cannoli’s!” he yells at an insane volume for someone who’s just walking down the street. This earns you both a weird look from the people on the sidewalk. You were about to kiss his cheek until he just took off down the street with your hand still in his. You guessed you never knew he liked cannoli’s so much. Maybe you should try out a recipe and make him some one day.

You get into the pizza restaurant and sit down across from each other and waited for the waiter to take your order. You order your drinks; Peter gets Diet Pepsi and you get a Sprite. Both of you talk about how your classes went and held each other’s hand while you talked.

“So, I’ve got to do this project for my class,” Peter began, “And my camera is at the Compound, so tomorrow I’ll be a little late getting home.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Oh! Speaking of which,” you slam your palms on the table, which makes Peter jump a little. “When am I going to meet them? I mean we’ve been dating for going on seven months now, and I still haven’t met them. And I know they know about me because I got a message from Nat telling me happy birthday two weeks ago.” You raise an eyebrow at him waiting for his answer.

“Speaking of said topic, that reminds me. We got invited to Wanda and Vision’s wedding. And it is next Friday in Hawaii, which is perfect because a) we don’t have classes because it’s Spring Break, and b) I know Hawaii is one of your bucket list places.”

Your jawed dropped for several reasons. One, it’s Wanda and Vision’s fucking wedding! You never met them, but from the way Peter talked about them, you could tell they were meant to be. You always thought that they were like what you and Peter had times one hundred.

“Are you serious? They’re having their wedding in Hawaii?”

“Yeah. They thought that since Mr. Stark – “

“What can I get you two today?” the waiter asked breathless. You didn’t even realize how busy they were.

You looked up at him, “I’ll have a slice of the cheese pizza please?”

“And I’ll have two slices of the meat lovers. And can I get three of your best cannoli’s please?” Peter smiled at the waiter as he wrote down your order.

“Alright that’ll be right out.” He walked away almost jogging to get your order in. Goodness they were slammed.

“As I was saying,” Peter continued. “Mr. Stark has one of those beach houses in Maui and so, they thought that it would be the perfect place for them to tie the knot.”

“Wow, so, we’re invited? Like we’re going to Maui and attending the wedding? And meeting everyone?” you asked now slightly worried.

“Yeah,” he drags out confused. “That’s what kind of what ‘You’re Invited’ means.”

“I know, it’s just…this will be the first time I’m meeting them and I always imagined it would be at a like Sunday dinner type of thing. Not a fucking Avengers wedding!”

“It’s okay, I know they’re gonna love you no matter what.”

You take a sip of your drink, “This is also works out for another reason because MJ has been asking us to come see her ever since she moved to Kahului.”

“All the more reason to go.”

You both get your food and Peter immediately starts on the cannoli’s that he’s been longing to eat and practically moans at the taste of them. You get the check and pay and tipped extra for your waiter, because they need to be paid way more than minimum wage. The two of you walk out and head home so you can spend the rest of the night together.

“So, when do we leave for Maui?” you ask, swinging your intertwined hands between the two of you.

“Umm, I believe on Saturday.”

Today was Thursday so that means that you only had tonight and tomorrow to pack for a whole entire week. “Shit! I have almost no clothes washed, are you kidding me?” you yell. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“I just found out this morning!” he yelled back.

“Okay, well it’s a good thing tomorrow I don’t have classes because now I have to do laundry all damn day.” You reach your shared apartment and go to change clothes and you go straight to the laundry room, faster than Peter could imagine. All of your good, cute clothes had to be air dried and so that’s what you did first. After half hour of folding, and drying, and hanging up clothes non-stop, Peter came in wrapped his arms around you.

“Baby, you’ve been here for forever, come sit down with me,” he pleaded.

“I will once I have all the clothes done, but until then,” you pat his cheek. “I can’t.”

He sighs an ‘okay’ and plants a kiss on your cheek and walks away. About twenty minutes later you had gotten all the laundry done and went to join Peter on the couch. He was watching reruns of Brooklyn 99 which was one of your favorite shows. He put his arms out and made grabby hands and you leaned into his touch. You laid your head on his chest with the rest of your body sprawled out on the couch. He put his arm around your shoulders and kissed the top of your head. You looked up and kissed his lips and sat up just a bit straighter. One of his hands went to the back of your neck and the other rubbed your thigh, and you relaxed even more into him. Your right hand carded through his hair and the other sat splayed on his peck, slightly gripping his shirt. You two stayed like this for what felt like hours, just basking in each other’s comfort. You pulled back to breathe and gave him one last kiss before going back to your original position, laying on him.

“What do you wanna watch?” He yawned.

“Well since your yawning and –“ you yawned this time. “And so am I, let’s just take a nap.”

He hummed in agreement and led you to your shared bedroom and he changed into just a pair of sweatpants. You laid down and he did shortly after. You turned, facing him as your chests were touching. You stared at him for quite a long time before you even realized that you were. His face scrunched up that was so cute you wanted to take a picture.

“What?”

“Nothing. You just look cute,” you said back.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Nope. I do,” he challenged.

“That’s impossible because I love you to Jupiter and back,” you kissed his nose, ultimately shutting it down because you were tired. School had kicked your ass this week and you hadn’t really had anytime to just lay with Peter. You scooted down a bit so, you could lay your head on his chest, your legs intertwined, as he held you against him so tight that nothing could slip in between you two.

The next morning you had woken up extra early to make some French toast for you and Peter. You got out the bread and butter and the rest of the ingredients and started cooking. Since you were the one who was in the culinary department, the silent agreement between you and Peter was that you would cook, and he would clean your mess. You tried to not make too much of a mess, because you weren’t that mean. After a couple more minutes you got breakfast done and at that exact moment you put the toast on the plate, Peter comes waddling out with his hair a mess. It was almost like it was scripted like a scene in a movie.

“I smelled French Toast,” he smiled.

“Mhm, I thought that I would be nice and cook breakfast for you this time.” You pecked his cheek and gave him the syrup.

“Eat up and get ready for a long day of packing suitcases, babe,” you winked at him.

“Oh boy.” You didn’t hear his sarcasm often, but when you did it always made you chuckle.

He went over to the couch and you followed setting up the coffee table and turning on Spongebob to watch as you ate. You turned towards him and smiled and received a kiss on the nose. Today was going to be a good day, you thought.

It was now four thirty in the evening and you and Peter were packing up all your belongings into your suitcases. “Okay so you need your swim trunks, flip flops, sunglasses, and what else?” You ask.

“Is that just for swimming?” You nodded. “Then yeah I think that’s it.” You went over to his drawer grabbing his trunks out along with your swimsuit. You had all your clothes spread out into separate piles consisting of swimwear, pajamas, nice shirts, casual shirts, and wedding attire. Peter grabbed all of his clothes and stuffed them into his suitcase and you did the same. After that you went to the bathroom to grab all extra stuff that consisted of teeth and hair products, and everything in that category. Peter went into the kitchen to the medicine and started to pack anything that might be needed for allergy’s and whatnot. You figured you would pack your purse of carry on items before you left tomorrow morning.

After two hours of packing and double checking, and once the bed was cleared, you flopped down face first and groaned. “I’m so exhausted,” you huffed.

“Aww, is my baby tired?” He asked this as he pressed feather-light kisses to your neck that always made you shudder.

“Yes,” you say as you awaited a kiss on the lips. He happily kisses you, slow and lovingly, and you feel like you could stay there for eternity. He pulls away for minute to catch his breath. “We should probably figure out what we want to do for dinner.”

“How ‘bout leftovers? There’s still some enchiladas or lemon pepper chicken in the fridge.”

“Ooooh, let’s do chicken.”

You get up from the bed to heat the chicken up in the oven. “Imma make some garlic cheesy rice too!” You shout from the kitchen.

“Sounds good, baby.”

You two make your dinner and eat in a comfortable silence, watching TV. You both decided to watch one more episode of Parks and Rec before calling it a night, and Peter figured it would be smart to go to bed early since you would both have a long day of checking flights and meeting the Avengers tomorrow; and that was tiring by itself.

Tag-List: @randomstufflol29 @spideyspeaches @binnotjin

#peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker x y/n #peter parker series #peter parker oneshot

133 notes · View notes