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jasontoddiefor · 3 years ago

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A gift for @thenegoteator :D

It took a Temple to raise a child, and Mace Windu was very much aware of this. However, it did not explain what Ahsoka Tano was doing at his door in the middle of the night. Ahsoka had deep bags under her eyes, which wasn’t too much of a surprise considering the current living arrangements of her lineage. While little Luke and Leia were relatively well-behaved newborns, they were still only a few weeks old. If their human caretakers didn’t wake up at every single little whimper, then the togruta with the superior hearing certainly would.

“Do you want to come inside?” Mace asked, not letting his confusion show. He was used to people coming to his door at the oddest hours.

“If—if I can?” Ahsoka replied as if only now becoming aware of her actions. In this, she reminded Mace of her Grandmaster and the many nights Mace had found Obi-Wan coming to his doorstep during the first months of Anakin’s stay at the Temple.

“My door is always open, Padawan,” Mace said – and watched her wince.

Ah.

So there was the problem.

“Caleb is currently sleeping in my bed as Depa is away,” Mace explained. “So please keep your voice down. I don’t want to wake him unnecessarily.”

The boy had already had a hellish enough month behind him, he needed all the rest he could get. Even though the war was officially over, enough planets refused to surrender, drawing out the battles until they had nothing but children left to sacrifice. It weighed on Mace’s shoulders, making him wonder whether he wasn’t too old to carry such burdens still.

Ahsoka nodded and followed Mace inside. He couldn’t recall whether Ahsoka had been in his room before, but from the way she eagerly looked around his quarters, taking in the sight of old instruments, books, and holos, he guessed she hadn’t. Well, at one point in their life, every Jedi had set a foot inside Mace’s quarters, so this was bound to happen sooner or later.

“Do you want a cup of tea?”

Ahsoka tore herself away from the sight and looked at him with surprise. “I—yes? That would be nice.”

“Then I will make a cup. Do you have any preferences? I believe I even have Obi-Wan’s favorite blend here.”

Mace had no idea whether he had bought it or if Obi-Wan had just left it here from himself when he came over. Knowing the other man, it was likely that the latter was the case. For a man claiming to be so very polite, Obi-Wan could be a right brat.

Mace’s kitchen was small, with only a few cabinets and one shelf, two cooking tiles, and an oven. He wasn’t much of a cook himself and preferred to eat in the cafeteria with everyone, frequently taste-tasting what the Initiates had prepared. He selected two uneven cups Depa had made for him when she’d been young from the shelf. Why she had decided to pick up pottery of all hobbies was beside him, but he supposed that she found the motion soothing. Devan did enjoy parkouring through the lower levels and Echuu was quite content playing the guitar to calm himself.

Perhaps Mace should focus less on why all three of his Padawans had decided they wouldn’t follow him into theatre so they could continue to make fun of him. Setting the water to boil, Mace searched through his cabinets until he found Obi-Wan’s favorite blend. The fruity tea was far from the blend he preferred, but Mace prided himself on being a good host. While he waited for the tea to finish steeping, Mace enjoyed the quiet of the night. For all that there were few sounds as dear to him as that of people walking, or in the case of some younglings and few selected Knights, running, down their large hallways, Mace could appreciate the quiet when the world came to rest.

With two finished cups in hand, he returned to the living room, where he found Ahsoka curled up on the sofa, no longer studying his quarters for any hidden secrets.

“Thank you,” she said when she accepted the cup from him. She held it in her hands as if to warm them, letting the steam hit her face. She breathed in once, twice, finding her rhythm again. Mace waited until she’d calmed enough to speak up.

“What brings you to my door, Padawan Tano?”

Ahsoka flinched and appeared to make herself even smaller as if attempting to vanish. When it became apparent that it didn’t work, that silence hadn’t been what she had sought him out for, she let out a sigh. “You keep calling that.”

“Calling you what?” Mace asked, his brow raised, playing oblivious.

“… Padawan.”

“Are you not? I was under the impression that you had returned to the Temple.”

“I did, but I still left,” Ahsoka replied. “I left and I was convinced that I had to leave and that it was good that I did. I still think I had to leave the Temple behind.”

“Then why are you torn?”

Ahsoka’s hold on her cup tightened and so, perhaps in wise anticipation, she set it on the table and buried her hands in her robes instead, hiding their twitching from view. Mace could trace all her mannerisms to her teachers and couldn’t imagine what it must be like to purposefully rip all those pieces from yourself when they had become so ingrained in your very being. Even Dooku, who’d fallen so far from their beliefs, had been unable to fully rid himself of Yoda’s lessons. Maybe it was for the best. Hope had become a scarce commodity during the war, yet Mace considered the possibility that in a decade, they wouldn’t be imprisoning a Sith anymore.

“But am I still a Padawan? A member of this Order?” Ahsoka asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she shook like the leaves on the trees in the courtyard.

“Has your Master told you anything different?”

Ahsoka paused. “…. No.”

Seeing that realization was settling within her, Mace nodded. “Then you should not doubt him. You are a Jedi, Ahsoka Tano, and you will remain one as long as you live by our tenets.”

That teased a startled laugh from her. “Compassion for all except people who cheat at push-n-pull?”

As if transported back ten years, hearing Anakin say the same, Mace snorted. “The similarities between you and your Master astonish me every time. Yes, Padawan Tano, compassion for all.”

This seemed to calm the youth as she reached for her cup again and emptied it slowly. “It’s good.”

Mace smiled into his own cup. “I’d be insulted if it wasn’t. Obi-Wan forced me to memorize all the steps for making it.”

The then young Knight had been frazzled, and Mace honestly couldn’t tell what it had been about and had forced Mace to learn how to make this tea until he’d more or less collapsed on Mace’s sofa, completely knocked out until morning when Anakin had picked him up.

“He does do that,” Ahsoka agreed. “I think this is the only thing anyone can make reliably now.”

“Sleep-deprived much?” Mace inquired.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “Like you wouldn’t believe. I love Luke and Leia dearly, but they are demanding and need a lot of attention.”

That was honestly kinder than Mace would have described newborns at her age.

“There is a reason why we usually don’t have children this young in the Temple,” Mace said. “They are very handful. Do you get enlisted to help very often?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “No, Obi-Wan, Skyguy, and Padmé got it covered, and I’m mostly just helping out somewhere else.”

She trailed off a little. This, perhaps, was another issue, but one that could be equally easily dealt with.

“Thank you then for going where you are needed,” Mace told her.

Ahsoka blinked. “Huh?”

“You will grow into a specific role someday, Ahsoka, and that needs time. Do not feel as if you need to earn back your place in the Temple. You don’t need to earn yourself a home you have always had. For now, trust me when I say that everyone you’ve helped is glad that you were there. It is an admirable quality to have a sense of where you are needed. Do not see it as being the odd one out.”

This was the hardest lesson to teach and learn, the fact that there was a path out there for you, but that it took time to see where it would lead. Too many of their Padawans now felt utterly lost without the structure the war had provided them with.

“Oh. I guess if you say so.”

“Yes, I do say so,” Mace agreed. Then, eyeing Ahsoka’s empty cup, he added on, “do you want another?”

“No.” Ahsoka yawned. “I think I might best head back.”

“You can also sleep here if you want, and don’t mind Caleb hogging the blanket. I won’t go to bed tonight anyway.”

Ahsoka squinted at him as if attempting to discern whether he was lying. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Really—”

“Ahsoka, go to bed.”

Clearly feeling better already, she saluted and, after Mace showed her his bedroom, made herself comfortable in it. She took off her shoes and tossed her robe over a chair before climbing into the bed. Ahsoka had barely laid down when Caleb already turned around to curl around her, clinging like a little monkey. After a moment’s apprehension, she relaxed and was fast asleep. Stealing one last glance at the two Padawan, Mace returned to his living room, looking through the incoming reports.

Hectic as the aftermath of the war was, as much effort as caring for their children was, Mace wouldn’t trade it for a single thing in the world.

#star wars #mace windu #ahsoka tano #jedi #light fix it verse #fanfic

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raymondebidochonlifechoices · 3 years ago

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To summarise:

Barchie’s pregnancy test turns out negative. Betty is relieved but Archie regrets the opportunity to bring a new life a few days (months?) before the Apocalypse. “My dad loved being a young dad”, he tells Betty, whose mother was an even younger mother (cough!Charles!cough!).

To make sure the viewers got it, Veggie break up again.

Meanwhile, Tabitha is away in Albany working to get Pop’s declared a historical landmark, while Jughead is working at RHS working at Pop’s waiting at home typing away on his computer. Wait, I thought he couldn’t write without his music and was into drawing cartoons now … ?? My mistake.

The mayor of Riverdale goes door-to-door accompanied by the armed deputies of the sheriff’s department sans Keller Sr (who, unlike Keller Jr, is not a regular of the show) to collect overdue books borrowed from the Public Library, which is soon to be converted into a(nother) hotel. Here come The Six Seasons!

It seems our heroes have been less than diligent about returning their books: Jughead owes Kafka’s Metamorphosis from his junior homeless days (not to be confused with his adult homeless days), Betty owes Small Engine Repairs that she borrowed when she was 12 but never returned, Veronica aka the Black Widow of Wall Street owes Kiss Of The Spider Woman, Archie Songwriting From The Heart, Cheryl … Flowers In The Attic (oh boy …) and Reggie a book about dyslexia.

To add insult to injury -with the exception of himbo of my heart Reginald Mantle- our heroes don’t even know where their books are.

It transpires that Kevin hasn’t returned a book either: it’s Lord of the Flies. Percival asks for it. I thought he was already on Percival’s side?

Percival claims that the late fees for the overdue books are “in the thousands of dollars”, although the Guinness Book of Records (the very same one featuring Archie as the toughest man in the world) says the the world´s largest fine for an overdue library book is $345.14.

This is, of course, but a cunning ruse, to allow him to collect various other items as “collateral”, i.e. Jughead’s copy of the first Baxter Brothers book (first edition), Betty’s journal, Hiram’s portrait (Veronica), Archie’s guitar and Cheryl’s brother (in a trunk rather than in the attic).

It must be noted that, at this point, Jason’s adventures as a corpse far surpass his adventures whilst alive.

I have so many questions about this villain who knows exactly what to take under the guise of “collateral” but who hasn’t yet taken over the town …

Cheryl briefly threatens to burn Percival but he says that if he gets even a flush, the sheriff’s deputies will shoot her. Instead of burning the deputies first, then Percival, Cheryl lets him take Jason (and the trunk).

It must be the weekend or something because Kevin is strolling around Riverdale with Percival instead of teaching at RHS.

Meanwhile, the Serpents are apparently illiterate, because neither Toni nor Fangs are asked to return any books. Or maybe they went to Albany too?

Our heroes meet to discuss Percival’s interest in their borrowed books. Cheryl’s witchy mind reels at what he might do with the “secret forbidden knowledge” of what they read during their formative years aka the registry of the library that Percival already used when calling upon them.

Meanwhile, Percival is not interested in the books but in the items he collected as collateral. He lights a black candle, mumbles some latin and asks for the “books” to reveal their secrets. Archie’s guitar, Hiram’s portrait and Jason-in-the-trunk are not books but, yeah, whatevs, Perce.

The w/e must be over, because RHS is in session and Archie’s back at school for the first time since … season 5??

Nope, sorry, I take that back. The English Lit teacher is spending the morning on his laptop at home again. Confused yet?

Percival’s chanting has caused everyone to experience their deepest trauma: FP III is afraid of turning into FP I, Betty’s unlocking hidden memories of serial killer Hal from when she was 12 (canon reset #1), Archie’s seeing Grundy, Veronica is on her way to becoming Spiderwoman, err, venomous like a black widow, and Reggie suffers from his first on-screen episode of dyslexia.

Betty confides her trauma to Archie. Archie, who was disappointed by the negative pregnancy test, lies about his. Manpain must be endured in manly silence.

Instead of buying a new book to remind himself how to read (because this is how dyslexia works in Riverdale), Reggie goes to Percival, who mind controls him into taking a Glamergé egg to Veronica, that is going … to unlock her venomous powers? This is the most unnecessarily convoluted plot ever.

Smithers returns! (Only to swiftly depart again)

Kevin discusses Lord of the Flies with Moose for one whole minute.

After walking 2.445 km, on an average of 25 hours per day, the homeless of Sketch Alley, Riverdale N.Y., have reached Venice Beach, California. Which is where Doc (who is in possession of Jughead’s book) is.

Jughead learns all this from Hank, who is still in Sketch Alley, which is still in its same abandoned condition. Did Percival remove the homeless just to spite Archie?

Canon reset #2: Cheryl has always dabbled in the supernatural.

There is another scene with Archie at school. Maybe the RROTC program is the only class offered at RHS?

Kevin, says Percival, is a gorgeous man, who deserves what his heart desires. Kevin, who has -so far- never had a problem getting what his heart desired (be it Joaquin, Fangs, Moose or a premium spot in a cult), agrees. For good measure, he makes out with Percival. He has now joined his ranks. That Lord-of-the-Flies discussion served no purpose whatsoever. I want my minute back.

Archie comes clean about his trauma. Betty dutifully consoles him. He can now play the guitar again.

Veronica has a fling with Geraldo, who turns out dead the next day.

Himbo of my heart Reggie, who has been left out of the loop all this time, figures out what’s going on. “Are you a wizard?” he asks Percival. “No”, replies Percival, “I’m a magic man”.

With only 6 minutes left in the episode, Jughead tracks down all of our heroes’ books in a bookstore in Pennsylvania. Sure, why not. Percival gives them back what he took as collateral.

Instead of getting Hiram’s portrait back and disposing of it herself, Veronica leaves it with Percival, in order -one assumes- to facilitate some future plot.

Cheryl proposes to burn the items because they are polluted. Jason -already burned once- is, she claims, excepted. Jughead also keeps his grandfather’s book, since it’s the only thing left of him. That and all the other copies of the highly successful first book of the Baxter Brothers. At least Archie’s guitar is burned. Small mercies.

Geraldo’s death “seems sealed with a kiss”: Dr Curdle Jr must have been spending some quality time with Jughead, as he’s now favouring the same over-the-top narrative vein as the author of The Outcasts. I wish Dr Curdle Jr a very happy career writing crime novels.

Had Percival’s shenanigans no purpose at all or was all this a dastardly plot to unblock Archie’s love for singing? Could this be Percival’s undoing? As the Inferno flames of the Ultimate Battle™ engulf the town, will Archie, armed with a smore stick and a new, purified guitar, sing Kumbaya until Percival’s ears bleed and he explodes in a million supernatural smithereens, thus saving Riverdale? Only time will tell.

Toffee was not in town during this episode, because Toffee has no overdue library books, bitch. She hitched a ride with Tabitha to visit Albany.

#Riverdale season 6 spoilers #Riverdale season 6 #s6 recaps

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afriendlyblackhottie · 4 years ago

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Boyfriend

Summary: Colin is your neighbor and best friend. Hell he might as well be your boyfriend except he isn’t.

Pairings: Colin Shea x Plus Size!Black!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, daddy kink, doggy style, missionary, cunnilingus, possibly triggering comments about weight, negging

(A/N: negging is when someone insults you with intentions to sleep with you. I can’t believe I finally finished a Colin story. I’d like to thank @queenoftheworldisdead and @whiskey-cokenfanfic for the ideas because apparently all I needed to do was put them together. Like most of my work this isn’t proofread I’m the slightest, but not only is it not proofread in the slightest, I also have e acrylics so I probably made even more mistakes than usually. Sorry for that. Btw this is pure writers insert. Not gonna deny it 🤷🏾‍♀️ Follow, like, reblog 💜 ✌🏾)

Tagging: @titty-teetee @zaddychris @queenoftheworldisdead @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @mariahthelioness29 @donutloverxo @little-baby-vixen @puffyam1yum1 @brattycherubwrites @iam-laiya @whiskey-cokenfanfic @doloreshazes @thedarkplume @toni9 @golden-ariess @tinystudentfirepurse @honeychicana @love-more122

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“And, what is this!”

Colin asked with a wide ass smile as he came out of your bedroom. He’d just kinda dropped in to hang out after one of his hookup’s boyfriends apparently decided to interrupt. Since you were used to him doing that by now you didn’t say anything.

When you’d moved in next door you’d immediately found out that he had a lot of guests. You’d ended up needing to tell him to keep it down a lot. He’d poke his head out of the door while he was naked before giving you that charming ass smirk and telling you sorry. Somehow in between that time you’d built up a soft spot for him and he started using your apartment to hide from those same guests after they’d over stayed their welcomes. Yeah it was awful, but it kind of worked out.

Not like whatever this was, was a one sided deal. In exchange for using your apartment he did things that you hated doing. Like when you had something wrong with your car he took a look under the hood. Had a flat tire? Here comes Colin to the rescue. Bad date? He’d find a way to get you out of it. You liked the deal the two of you had. Besides you actually enjoyed his company and he seemed to enjoy yours too because the two of you had started hanging out a lot even.

The biggest problem you had with him is that he had the habit of being nosy as hell. Going through your things. Looking over your shoulder as you tried to draw. If it had been anyone else you probably would have clobbered them by now. You didn’t want to admit it, but you kind of had a crush.

Which is why him finding your vibrator was super mortifying. You’d asked him to grab your phone so it was kind of your fault anyway. Since you’d set them to charge near each other. You just didn’t think about it when you’d asked because you had started making him a sandwich. Yeah you know how that sounded, but homeboy seemed to always be hungry and you actually liked the way the two of you were.

“Put that back!” You protested forgetting about the sandwich as he giggled. Your downstairs neighbors were probably pissed off because you’d started chasing him around only for him to jump over your couch with no issue. Fucking himbo. “Colin!”

“What’s the magic word?” He teased, waving it in the air.

You narrowed your eyes. “How about I’ll kill you!” Then as you were trying to catch him again, you tripped over his guitar case because this douche couldn’t not leave his shit everywhere. Ugh he’s so lucky that he’s pretty.

“Shit!” He said before hurrying to your side. You whimpered as he scooped you in his arms so that he could sit with you on the couch.

“You’re such an asshole.” You sniffled.

“I know. I know. I was only teasing, Sweetie,” he cooed as he started nuzzling your face with his nose. “I’m sorry.”

Then he started placing kiss after kiss on your forehead. You could see the device in his hand still so you reached over to snatch it away.

“You little shit,” he gasped.

“It’s mine.” You laughed as you tucked it into your shirt, before standing up to try and get away from him.

“Give it back!” He protested as you tried to get up to get away from him. Before you could get very far, he grabbed you pushing you onto the couch.

“Stop!” You giggled as he started tickling you as he tried to grab it.

He’d pushed your legs up so that he could get between them. You screamed as he continued his assault while also wiggling about trying to keep your toy out of his hands.

“Why do you want it so bad?” You asked as you laid back, trying to catch your breath. “That’s gross it’s been on my vagina.”

Colin laughed. “Maybe that’s why I want it.”

“Ewwwww! Colin!”

He finally stopped as the two of you ended up staring in each other eyes for a little too long. “Gimme it back,” he said.

“No.” You giggled. “It’s mine.”

He glared down at you before finally grabbing it from under your shirt, exposing your breasts to him. Of course.

“Hey!” You protested pushing your shirt down and then reaching for it again. Instead of handing it to you his gaze seemed to focus even more before wrapping his bicep around your inner thigh.

You were totally spread out for him at his mercy. Only wearing a pair of shorts and he’d already seen your boobs. When you tried to reach for it again he used one of his hands to pin you down. “Not so funny now, huh?” He smirked.

Suddenly it felt like the air had changed. He was on top of you snuggly between your thighs. Looking down at you. Ugh why did he have to be so-

You couldn’t even finish the thought as he placed his lips on yours. His mouth working yours ever so gently. Like he was afraid you’d deny him.

When you deepened it, it was almost like you couldn’t help yourself. You’d spent the last year harboring this crush. Seeing him bring girl after girl to his apartment and fuck now that you were thinking about it, you didn’t want to become one of them.

“We should stop,” you said breaking apart from him.

He nodded and raised off of you. “Sorry... I...”

“It’s okay...” you replied as you also sat up.

“I, um, I should go,” he said, as he stood. It was like neither of you could believe what had just happened.

You nodded and swallowed as he got up to grab his guitar and left. As you went to close the door behind him, he lingered for a bit like he was about to say something before shaking his head.

“I’ll see you.”

“Yeah,” you replied. When he was gone you put your back against the door and sighed because what the fuck were you supposed to do now.

You’d promised yourself that despite liking him you would never pursue it. It wasn’t even about his “guests.” Sure he’d been a good friend to you, but would that translate into more.

It may have been childish, but in the days that followed you did best to avoid him. You weren’t even sure if he was home. There’d been a noticeable silence with no women moaning and screaming his name at all hours of the night.

You didn’t walk into your living room to him asleep on the couch as he waited for his latest booty call to leave. Thinking about him not being around was making your stomach hurt. Fuck you hadn’t meant to screw up so badly.

Your friends having noticed your slump had set up for you to go on a date with this guy. Except you didn’t want to go out with some random guy. You wanted Colin. Fuck him. This is bullshit.

Of course you saw him as you were leaving. All that avoiding and you’d run into him at the worst possible moment. “Hey...” he said with a soft smile. “You look nice.”

Ugh. He was making your heart flutter. “Thanks.”

“Going out with your girls?” He asked.

“No. It’s this stupid blind date.” You rolled your eyes.

Colin’s face fell. “Oh... well. Call me if you need anything.” He smiled weakly. “Oh yeah did you still need me to take your car to the shop?”

“No I did already. Gotta pick it up Monday.” You smiled weakly.

“Okay...” he trailed off with a frown on his face. Like he wanted to say something more, but didn’t know what to say. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah. See ya.” You shot him this tiny smile. You started to go down the stairs, kind of hating how how sad you felt to walk away from him.

“Wait!” He suddenly said.

“Yeah?” You turned back to him a little quickly.

Colin stood there. Like he was trying to get his thoughts together before answering. “I... um... nothing. It’s not important. Call me if... you need me. Okay?”

You nodded and that was it. You waited for him to stop you again, but obviously he wasn’t going to as you walked out of the building.

Your entire date all you could think about was him. Sure it was a little rude, but you’d let him consume you. Your date was bleh anyway. You hate when your friends set you up.

As he rambled on about himself, you stabbed at your food with your fork. Not only was this how it’s been this entire time, but the food wasn’t even good. How long was he gonna keep going on and on about his fantasy football team. Sure Colin would go on and on about it, but it was so weird to have someone else do it. Also Colin didn’t interrupt you every time you opened your mouth unless it was to make you laugh.

Finally it was over and you wanted to go home and maybe get postmates or something. Before you could get in the car he’d stood in front of you so you were leaning against it. Damn this was awkward.

“It’s crazy. When Simone showed me your picture, I was a little apprehensive, but you actually are really pretty for a chubby girl,” he said.

And there it is.

Isn’t it funny how this shit goes. You don’t know if people thought that kind of thing was a compliment, but it really really really really wasn’t and now all you wanted to do was punch him.

He even tried to fucking kiss you after. “Why are you doing that duck thing?” He asked. “Put your lips like this.”

You turned your head. Fuck you should have never let them talk you into a date when your car was in the shop. How is it that they hate Colin, but this guy was fine? “Actually can you take me home? I think I left the stove on.” You crinkled your nose.

“You don’t have to lie to get me to go home with you,” he said.

Oh hell no. “Actually,” you started, crinkling your nose because ew, “I don’t have sex on the first date.”

“Oh,” he replied making a face. “Then what do you do on the first date.”

Yeah. Don’t get into a car alone with this man. You will be cussing your friend out for this. After you had food. “Uh, actually I think I’m gonna get an Uber.”

Thank fucking god he’d finally left you alone. You thought about calling Colin to come pick you up because sure he’d helped you out on a bunch of these things there was something about it that felt humiliating. Pretty for a chubby girl? Really dude. Fucking jerk. As if that’s even a real compliment.

And your friends would rather you be with that. Over a guy that actually cared. Not that you were even sure that Colin liked you. One kiss doesn’t mean anything with. He kissed a lot of girls. What made you any more special.

It wasn’t even about the other girls. If it had been you would have stopped being like that with him a long time ago. You didn’t care. You just missed the way the two of you were.

When you’d finally made it to your door you were already crying. Fat tears falling down your cheeks but since you didn’t wanna sound like you were on some Haunting of Hill House shit as you walked up the stairs you tried to keep yourself quiet, with your fist to your mouth.

You almost made it to your door, too. When some girl walked out of Colin’s apartment looking pissed. Then him noticing you before he could close it.

“Y/N? Fuck. It’s not what it looks like.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t care,” you said through the tears.

“Shit what happened?” He asked.

You didn’t say anything as you took out your key. Just wanting to get inside so you could be sad in peace. You’d rather him not pile onto the shittiness.

“Hey,” he said, putting his hand on your shoulder. “Talk to me. Did he do something?”

You closed your eyes tightly because you knew if you looked into his you’d spill everything. You couldn’t not talk to him. He made it impossible. It was so annoying.

Colin breathed. “Look, I know I kissed you and I know that you’ve been avoiding me since. I’ve just been trying to give you space. I didn’t want to freak you out, but I miss you. That’s why I kicked that girl out. She wasn’t worth it when I’m trying to be... that doesn’t matter. I at least wanna be like old times.”

You sniffled, finally opening your eyes. Ugh there it goes. “It was so bad, Colin.” Ah fuck him you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

He sighed before pulling you into his arms. “Here let’s go inside. Okay? I’ll making you some tea.” He swiped his lips across your forehead.

You nodded but didn’t let go of him. He was just too warm. And his muscles were all tight around you and it felt good. Besides his chest was really good to cry into.

“It’s okay, Honey. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You nodded. “You promise?”

“Yeah,” he replied before pulling your chin up with his fingers and kissing your nose. “Always.”

He made your tea while you showered and did your routine. You’d also spent a lot of time brushing your teeth because you’d felt gross after he kissed you. By the time you got back he was waiting for you already on the couch. Looking so inviting in your hoodie.

“Hey, that’s mine,” you said with a pout.

He narrowed his eyes. “This is my hoodie. You stole it from me.”

“You shouldn’t have left it here then.” You whined.

Colin chuckled before holding his arms out. “Get over here.”

You decided to get over it for now as you went to sit beside him, curling into his side. You reached forward to grab the cup of tea he had waiting for you. “Thank you, Colin,” you said.

“Always,” he replied. “Now tell me what happened.”

You rolled your eyes again because you didn’t even want to talk about it anymore, but with him there was no letting to. You sighed. “Do we have to?” You asked.

“Not taking no for an answer.”

You took a deep sigh before taking a sip of your tea. “Okay, so, he spent all night talking to me about his fantasy football team.”

He cringed. “Only I’m allowed to do that.”

“Exactly! And then he told me that I’m pretty for a chubby girl,” you said rolling your eyes.

“What?” He frowned.

“Yeah. I think he was trying to neg me.”

Colin sighed. “That doesn’t make it okay. I wish you would have called me.”

“Yeah. Maybe. Didn’t wanna bother you.”

“Hey. Stop it,” he said. “You can always calls me. I don’t care how far I am. I’ll hop on a plane if I have to.”

“Stop,” your voice shook as you spoke. “You don’t have to do the whole knight in shining armor thing.”

“I prefer Prince Charming.” He shrugged.

You rolled your eyes, as you sniffled. “Whatever.”

Colin chuckled before placing more kisses on your head. “Don’t you ‘whatever’ me. You should have called me. He didn’t do anything else did he?”

“He kissed me and it caught my off guard and he asked why I was doing a duck thing with my mouth!”

He frowned. “What the hell. And you let him take you home?”

“No. I got to freaked so I called can Uber.”

He nodded. “Okay.” He sighed. “Next time you have to call me.”

“I don’t even want there to be a next time. I’m so over dating.” You pouted, crossing your arms.

“Well, then, how about you don’t. Instead it’ll just be us?”

“Yeah as if you can go even three days without sex. You’re an addict.”

Colin’s jaw dropped. “I’ll have you know I haven’t had sex since before you started avoiding me.”

“What about that girl?”

“I told you it didn’t feel right,” he answered. “I was only with her because I got mad and that wasn’t fair.”

“Mad about what?”

“That you were going on a date with some other guy,” he confessed with a sigh. “I don’t want you to go on dates with other guys. I only want you to go on dates with me.”

So there it was. You’d thought about this moment so many times before. About what it would feel like for Colin to like you back. Honestly it felt pretty good.

You looked up at him and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so nervous. “You sure you want that?”

“I’ve been doing boyfriend things for you for a year and I miss it.” True. “Might as well make it official.”

“Colin, I... look if you’re serious about this then you need to promise that you’re committed because I know you and I know how you get.”

He took a deep breath. “I know, but I know that I want you. I’ve never been like this with anyone. I love you, Y/N.”

“You’re so annoying,” you said, turning so he couldn’t see that he’d made you tear up as you wiped away each one that slid down your cheek.

All he did was kiss the top of your head. “Say it back.”

You shook your head. “Go away.”

He laughed before pushing you onto your back so he could crawl on top of you. “Don’t fuck with me. Say it back.”

“Colin!” You giggled.

His nose touches yours as he glared down at you. Lips getting ever so close to yours. “Say it back.”

“Fine,” you replied dramatically, even if you couldn’t help the smile that was on your face. “I love you, too.”

“Yeah?” He whispered, pecking your lips ever so soft.

“Mhm,” you hummed putting your hands in his hair. When the kiss deepened you let yourself feel him. Didn’t even think about pulling away this time. Pushed whatever thoughts to the back of your mind. None of it mattered anymore.

You fisted his shirt in your hand as his tongue started going against hers. There was something so yummy about him kissing you. You can’t believe that Colin was really your boyfriend.

He did that thing again where he wrapped his bicep around your upper thigh so he could get situated between your legs. This time you didn’t even think to pull away from him. “Colin,” you moaned into his mouth.

“That’s it, Baby,” he whispered pulling away so he could take off his hoodie.

You couldn’t help yourself as you grabbed it. “Mine.”

“Are you- no!” He tried to grab it out of your hands. He’s so lucky he’s so muscly because he balled it up and threw it across the room. “I want my hoodie back.”

“But, I wear it when I masturbate.” You pouted.

“Really?” He asked with this dopey smile spreading across his face.

You snorted. “No. I do think about you when I do it though.”

“Yeah? It’s okay I’ve accidentally said your name during sex.”

Your jaw dropped before smacking his arm. “Colin!”

He laughed. “That’s why that girl left so quick earlier. She kissed me, but I was thinking about you.”

“You’re such a jerk.”

“Yeah, but it’s cuz I’m crazy about you.” He leaned down to kiss your neck.

You let out a moan at the feeling. “Unless you plan on taking care of me I suggest you stop doing that.”

“Oh, I plan on spending all night taking care of you,” he whispered.

“Can you get me food first. I’m starving.”

Colin chuckled. “How about we order in and until it gets here I make you cum with my mouth like I’ve been wanting to.”

You smiled lazily. “I like that idea.”

Obviously he kept his word. He had you pick whatever you wanted before laying you back to tug your shorts off. Being exposed to him like this was making you feel a little shy, but you didn’t have the chance to think about it once his long was licking your clit.

Your hands went to his hair as he bent you up so your legs were over his shoulders as he put his hands on the back of your thighs. “Got the prettiest pussy,” he said before going back to feasting on you.

“Colin,” you whimpered. “Fuck.”

He was making your stomach quiver. Putting his hands under your ass getting a grip so he could really taste you. Until you started trying to move your hips against his face. Damn he looked so pretty like this. Fuck he was gonna make you cum.

Seriously looking into his eyes as he was between your brown thighs was so sinful. He was eating you out like you were the best meal ever. Making you cry and moan for him. It was literally everything you’d been wanting from him.

“I’m cumming!” You squeaked, throwing your head back. “Fuck me, Colin. Please,” you whined as he kept going.

“Here go get on the bed. I’d prefer our first time not being on the couch.” He raised back up so he could kiss you softly.

You nodded as he got off of you so you could stand on your shaky legs. He chuckled, pulling you into a hug. You wrapped you arms around his waist, needing to feel close to him.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.”

He grabbed your hand as he led you to your room. Stopping every so often during the short walk to kiss you. You don’t blame him for not being able to help himself. Now that the two of you were honest about your feelings you weren’t sure you’d be able to get away from his embrace anytime soon.

You kneeled on the bed in front of him and he pulled you into his arms to kiss you again. You started to undo his pants, getting on your stomach as his cock finally popped out. Your jaw dropped as you looked at it and then up at him. Sure you always expected for there to be a reason he was getting girls back to back. Yeah he has a pretty face, but there was definitely a bigger reason and now that you were faced with it, it was like every thought left your brain.

Wrapping your hand around it, you brought the head to your tongue. Moaning around him at the taste. “Fuck, you gotta big dick.”

“Were you not expecting it?” He asked.

“I mean I was, but fuck. I don’t even know if you’re gonna fit.”

“Oh I’ll make it fit,” he said, hissing as you placed open mouthed kisses in it. “Fuck, Baby. Stop. I wanna be inside you.”

“Then get inside me.” You pouted up at him. “But I wanna suck it later.” You got back on your knees and he smacked your butt.

He chuckled before taking his shirt off. When his pants were finally thrown wherever, he moved to remove your own top. You’d been so preoccupied looking at him you didn’t even realize you even still had it on. “Always wanted to see these perfect tits,” he groaned before diving in.

When he finally laid you down, his didn’t stop licking and sucking them. He was going so hard you were pretty sure he was trying to leave a mark on purpose. You were so just sensitive that you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning even louder.

“Colin,” you whimpered.

Finally he got on top of you. Lining himself up with your core. “No turning back now, Baby,” he said as he started to push into you.

You cried out as his thickness stretched you out. He pressed his lips to yours again as he got a little deeper, but then pulled away to hiss, “Fuck, you’re fucking tight.”

You threw your head back. “Harder.” Despite the slight burn you felt from how thick he was all you wanted was more. He felt so goddamn good.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he replied finally tearing himself away from your breasts.

“I don’t care fuck me harder,” you whimpered. “Please? I need it.” You moved your hips. “Colin, I need it.”

“Yeah?” He asked before planting his palms on either side of your head as he started to rock in and out of you. “Fuck. You’re so wet.” He groaned. “Fuck I shouldn’t have waited this long to do this.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist and moaned as he started picking up pace. Making you feel so nice and full of him. It was honestly everything you’d hoped. Maybe even better.

He reached between the two of you to rub your clit. Not only was he stuffing your pussy, but the added stimulation was only bringing you closer to your peak. “I’m cumming!” You cried.

As you came your muscles contracted, you pushed him out and he took the chance to turn you over. Without any warning he pushed back in. Since you were still in the midst of an orgasm you were so sensitive. His pelvis smacking into your ass with each thrust.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” you cried, moving back against him. Soaking pussy still tightening around him.

“What’d you call me, Babe?” He asked, placing a kiss on the back of your shoulder.

“You’re my daddy,” you sobbed into your blankets.

Colin groaned. “Fuck yeah I’m your daddy, Baby. Don’t you ever fucking forget that.” He reached down so he could wrap a hand around your neck. “I’ve never fucked a girl without a condom before. So glad you’re the first. Pussy’s so damn good.”

“Please don’t stop,” you begged. Feeling the next orgasm right there. “I need your dick.”

“I’m not gonna stop until you cum again,” he replied. “I know you wanna cum again.”

You nodded as you let out gasps of air with each movement. “I am. It’s right there. Fucking harder.”

He smacked your ass and you threw your head back. “Fucking cum for me.”

You nodded, feeling like you were tearing up again. God you wanted it so damn bad. “Colin, Colin, Colin,” you chanted as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

He didn’t let up. Shoving himself inside of you as he felt his own peak creeping up to him. He just wanted to make sure you were taken care of before he could finally let go because once you did he couldn’t stop himself. Filling you up with his hot cum. Not stopping as he fucked it into you.

While you slumped over, he laid beside you before pulling you into his arms. “Goddamn,” he breathed. “We waited way to long to do that.” You nodded, chest heaving up and down as you laid your head on his shoulder.

As the two of you were getting all relaxed and basking in that post-sex glow a knock on your door made for jump.

“Shit, I forgot we ordered food.” He laughed before kissing your temple.

#Colin Shea smut #Chris Evans smut #Colin Shea x reader #Colin Shea x black!reader #Colin Shea x plus!size reader #Colin Shea x female!reader #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x plus size reader

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momolady · 4 years ago

Text

Werewolf Boyfriend: Dante

Outside of Hearthway Hollow, what do other werewolves do? How did they live? How do they work? Well, Dante is going to show you.

Female Reader x Male Monster (both cis)

A few of your friends want to take a camping trip. They’ve been begging you to go, especially since your family has a nice camper. You used to love camping, and went every chance you could. But something happened a few years ago that changed your mind and made you afraid of the woods.

Your dad and brother were hunters, so they took hunting trips as often as they were allowed. During the fall, when you and your mom had more time off, you’d often go on family trips together. It was fun, and you enjoyed the campfire and food more than anything. While your dad and brother were out doing their thing, you had lots of time to do personal stuff you didn’t get to do when life was busy. You liked to use charcoals to draw, and sometimes you even attempted to write songs and play guitar.

The night in question, you were half asleep by the fire. Your mom and dad were cuddled up, and your brother was out in the woods. Even though the camper had a bathroom, he was adamant, for some reason, about using the ‘great outdoors’ as his bathroom, like God intended. It sounded asinine to you, but as long as you neither saw or smelled his God’s-intended shits, you were fine. That night in particular though, he was taking his sweet time. You knew he had been flirting with someone a campsite or two over, so you got the idea to play the role of annoying sister.

You left the campsite, going along the small path behind the camper that went between the different campsites. It was dark so you had to use a flashlight, leading you up the path you figured he had gone towards. But the campsite was empty. It looked like the people had left already. You were contemplating heading back when you heard a noise. It sounded like grunting and slurping. Maybe you had popped out a campsite over, you thought, and really your brother’s intended spot was just a hop over.

You followed the sound, readying your camera just to torment your brother later. You were close to the campsite, but the sound seemed to be coming from off the path. In a moment of idiocy you chastise yourself for now, you followed. The sound you thought was perhaps the sound of your brother sloppily making out, was starting to get a bit more ominous. There was a snarl in it.

The moonlight illuminated someone hunched over on the ground. They suddenly went still and sat up, turning to look back at you. This person was huge, an absolute monster wearing what looked like a pretty thick fur coat, although it seemed kind of ratty. You kept your phone up and recorded the unnatural scene.

“Sorry about that!” you apologized quickly. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I was just looking for my brother.”

The person stepped closer, apparently wearing a full-body costume.

“Oh, wow! That’s so cool.” You came closer. “I knew the trailer park down the hill was having a costume party. I didn’t think anyone still made costumes like this except for, well, just in case you are, I’ll be quiet.” You reached up to touch the fur. It felt slightly damp. “It looks so life-like. How much did this cost you?” Your heart began to pound, yet you couldn’t seem to let go. You looked up at the person’s face, feeling cold. The eyes blinked, the lip curled, and inside you saw a wet tongue, drool, and sharp teeth.

“Well then,” you squeaked. “I’ll just… leave you to it.” You took a few steps backwards before you turned and sprinted back to your family’s campsite. Your brother was there, so you shoved passed him and hid in the camper. After that, you refused to go on any more camping trips, family or not.

“Come on, how about a cabin?” your friend Miri suggested. “You don’t have to do anything. Just stay in the cabin, which is surrounded by other cabins.”

“Stop pushing,” you protest. “I wouldn’t force you to spend the night at the aquarium.”

She frowns. “Seriously, what happened?”

You still have the video on your phone, just to prove to yourself you aren’t crazy. The whole thing is captured - your stupidity, the werewolf, everything. You could have posted it for the world to see, but part of you was afraid that, if you did, the werewolf would find you and gobble you up like Red Riding Hood’s granny.

“Bears,” you lie. “I’m afraid of bears.”

Miri pouts. “Bears are a myth, you know that.”

You glare at her as she breaks into a grin. You smile along and shake your head. “Seriously, Miri, it terrifies me. Cabin or tent, I would still probably hide away.”

“This place is like a gated community for campers. Arnie’s grandmother uses it, for crying out loud. No bears or masked serial killers are getting in.”

You roll your eyes. “Great, you mentioned serial killers. I’m sure as heck not going now. Why is it so important I go?”

“Arnie is inviting a friend. I would be less of a third wheel with you around. Plus, I wanna have an out in case Arnie tries to start something.”

“Seriously, break up with him for real.”

This time she rolls her eyes. “Come on. Please? I need you.”

You agree to go, but only after having seen the place online and discovered it’s more suburban than camp. The cabin is nice and big, and you’re able to get a room with a window that doesn’t face the trees.

You’ve never clicked with Arnie. He was always more Miri’s type. She’s the pretty, perky girl in glitter jellies and butterfly clips, you’re the gothy, geeky girl in your brother’s hand-me-down Converses and black-dyed hair. Arnie is a typical jock, but at least he’s nice. He and Miri have been dating since high school, and the best way you could describe their status is like one of those clap-on-clap-off lamps. Recently they’ve been entering a much more mature phase, but you still expect dramatics around the corner.

Arnie’s friend Philip is pretty much like Arnie, some guy he met at the gym and hit it off with. The guy is cute, but you have no hopes of holding a conversation with him. That is until the trip, when you get to talking about old kaiju movies. He’s starting to seem pretty cool.

“Maybe we could go on a hike later,” Philip suggests.

“Nah, you won’t get her out of the house,” Arnie says. “She’s scared of trees or something.”

Miri pats his shoulder. “Bears, babe. She’s scared of bears.”

You grimace and look out the window. “Yeah, I only came this week as a favor to Miri. Outside that, I’m not a hiking sort of person.”

Philip just smiles. “Good thing I shave. Wouldn’t want to scare you.”

Is he trying to be a dick or flirt? You couldn’t tell.

The first night in the cabin is fine. You’re all tired from the trip, so nothing much happens aside from eating and getting the place set up. The next day, Arnie suggests going swimming, maybe even renting a boat to take out onto the lake. Werewolves can swim, you think to yourself, but since the lake is wide open, maybe it’ll be safe for you to go.

After coating yourself in sunscreen, you all head down to the lake. First you hit the beach, where you set up an umbrella and towels as a protective fortress from your number two enemy, the sun. “Not going swimming?” Philip asks.

“Not right now. I’m waiting for the sunscreen to set in. After that, I’ll join in the water.” You take out your book and start to read while the others go into the water.

As you’re reading, you get goosebumps up and down your arms. A shiver trails up your neck, and when you look sideways, you see the beach is starting to fill up with people. Across the way there’s a storage shed for the employees, and standing there is a guy just watching. You try to ignore him, but every time you look up he’s staring in your direction.

After a while, you get up and run to the beach to join Miri and the boys. You stick close to Philip as your cover, hoping the guy will go away and stop staring. Once you leave the water, you find the guy gone. But now, Philip thinks you’re more keen on him than you are.

That night, Arnie starts a bonfire so Miri can make s’mores. You’ve taken a shower, and when you come out, the man from the beach is there talking to Arnie.

“What’s going on?” You sidle over to Philip.

“He’s just one of the maintenance guys who works here,” Philip scoffs. “Got all uppity about Arnie starting a bonfire without permission.”

You look back towards the man, who is wearing a uniform t-shirt for the cabin rentals, a huge tool belt, and some raggedy jeans. He’s quite tall, with curly dark hair that runs into his beard.

“Just an ass,” Philip grumbles under his breath.

The man turns his head while Arnie is talking to him, and you flinch. The dark blue of his eyes is like ice, and you freeze in place. “Sorry, sir, but you can’t start a fire here without alerting or obtaining permission from the front desk. There is a drought right now, and you have to be cautious.” His tone is stern, his voice deep.

“Will that take long?” Arnie scoffs. “My girl really wants her s’mores.”

“You’ll have to come down to the front desk to find out,” he says, walking towards you as he begins to leave. His eyes linger on you, but he leaves without a word.

“Man, what bullshit,” Arnie scoffs. “Just gonna be for an hour at most! What could that hurt?”

“The stove inside is gas. You can just roast marshmallows over the eye,” you suggest.

“What fun is that?” Philip chuckles. “Just go on and go now, Arnie. Take Miri with you and buy her a shirt at the gift shop.”

Arnie smirks. “If you wanna be alone, be a man and just say so. Fine, we’ll go, just make it worth my time.”

Philip grins, then starts putting logs back where Arnie had built the fire before. It had been doused with sand by the park employee. “So, tell me about this fear of bears,” Philip teases. “How did it start?”

“I watched a nature documentary as a child,” you fib. “From there it just grew like kudzu.” You look around, hearing Miri laughing in the distance.

“Got anyone to protect you from the big bad bears of the world?” Philip stands up, taking off his shirt despite the lack of effort involved in stacking five logs.

You look him up and down, yes his body is pleasing and you have the same taste in movies, but aside from that you feel nothing other than annoyance at how overly eager he is.

He comes up to you, sitting down and moving his chair close. You could easily make this a one-night-stand sort of thing, but he’d have to be super quiet during the act, so you could imagine someone else as you got your jollies. Philip’s arm rests around your shoulders, and he sighs with contentment. You just roll your eyes and move along with it as he attempts to hold your hand, but then he grabs your wrist instead and places your hand in his lap.

Your jaw drops. He whispers into your ear. “Come on, just us here. I’ll yell if I see a bear.”

“Is that your fucking dick?” you say through clenched teeth.

He smirks. “Like it?”

“Let go of me! Gross!” You shove him off and keep your hand elevated. “What the fuck?”

“What?” He stands up, stuffing his cock back into his shorts. “I thought you were into it!” He follows you inside the cabin, where you wash your hands at the sink.

“Did you ever think to ask?” You snap at him. “I don’t want dick pics, and I certainly don’t want your half-hard brain smooshed in my hand.”

Philip scowls. “Oh please, you were all over me yesterday. I didn’t think this was something I had to think about.”

“It’s always something you have to think about.” You walk towards the front door, off the porch and onto the road.

“Hey, come back!” Philip comes after you.

“I’m going to go meet up with Miri and Arnie. Leave me alone.” You pick up the pace to get away from him, but he still grabs your arm.

“There’s no reason to make a scene. I’m sorry, come on back.”

“Your apology isn’t wanted now!” You try to shove him off.

Philip is starting to laugh. “You’re acting ridiculous. Every guy does it.”

“They shouldn’t!” You slap him, and his smile fades. His grip on you turns rougher, but then someone cold-cocks him from the side.

You jump back and look up at your savior. It’s the staring guy from before. He shakes out his fist as Philip sits on the ground holding his head.

“Dude! What the fuck?”

“The lady said to let her go. I figured once she slapped you, you would get it, but apparently common sense isn’t your forte.” He comes up to you, placing himself between you and Philip. “I saw your friends at the gift shop. I’ll walk you there.”

“What about him?” you ask urgently.

He grins. “Want me to hit him again?”

“Nah, thanks for the offer though.” You let him walk beside you to find Miri and Arnie. “Your hand okay?”

He lifts his hand and shakes it again. “It’s fine. I’ve hit harder things than him before. I know you’re staying with him. You’re gonna be okay?”

You shrug. “Hopefully.”

“If he tries to do anything again, you can call the front desk and I’ll come kick his ass personally.”

“Who do I ask for?” you chuckle.

“Dante.” He holds his hand out.

You take his hand and shake it. “Sorry, I’ve been calling you creepy since yesterday.”

He nods. “I get that a lot. I have resting bitch face, but like, resting serial killer face.”

“Oh god, that sounds awful,” you chuckle.

“I’ve been told I was like that even as a kid.” When you reach the gift shop, he stops. “Your friends should be in there. Hopefully they’ll kick that guy to the curb for you.”

“If not, ask for Dante,” you smile.

“Exactly.”

You walk into the gift shop and explain what happened to Arnie and Miri. Thankfully, Miri is livid. To your surprise though Arnie is ticked off too, but unlike Miri, he thinks Philip should stay, and move into the bedroom next to theirs. Miri insists you send him packing, but Arnie asks where he would go.

This fight goes on all the way to the cabin, then erupts when Philip comes into the picture. Arnie smacks him, and Miri threatens him within an inch of his life. Arnie makes him move his stuff, and you go into the smaller bedroom next to the master bedroom. You avoided it because all the windows faced into the woods.

“Jesus, I thought you two would hit it off,” Miri grumbles.

You sit back on the bed, which is another downgrade. You had a queen bed all to yourself, but now you’re stuck with a twin. “I’m not blaming you. Luckily all he did was make me touch it. I think he’s too stupid to realize anything.”

“Still, that’s disgusting,” she scoffs. “I’m so sorry.”

You shrug. “I’ll scald the skin off when we get home. It’s fine.”

The next day, you and Miri go to the picnic area together. There’s a small snack shop there, so you order some food and sit down to just talk and waste time. As you’re eating a chili dog, Dante drives up in a cart to make an order. Chili plops onto your chest, and you swear under your breath.

“You see his ass?” Miri murmurs to you. “It’s fat.”

You’re still trying to wipe greasy chili off your chest. “Excuse me young lady?”

She winks at you. “Look at it.”

“I was just sexually harassed. I am not starting a pattern of bad behavior. Even if his ass looks like pudding.”

Miri gives you a shove. “Isn’t he the one who hit Philip for you? Your knight in shining armor?”

“More like a knight with hairy knuckles.” You watch Dante, who seems to be acting like he hasn’t noticed you, even though your hand was just down your top collecting chili chunks.

“He’s thick, but like, even with a few extra pounds I bet he’ll stay fine. Like Jason Momoa.”

You roll your eyes. “How are we friends? I swear.”

Miri leans against you and giggles. “It would be a fun story to take him. ‘He punched a wanton slut trying to force his floppy peepee upon me, and we made sweet passionate sex under the full moon.’”

“No moons,” you scoff. You look up to see Dante waving, and your face instantly smolders.

“Look at you!” Miri chides.

“I hate you,” you scoff as Dante approaches.

“How did everything go last night?” he asks. “No trouble from the pig?”

Miri perks up. “All is fine, but my friend was actually curious if there was any way she could thank you at all.”

You glare at her. Dante chuckles. “I don’t get to punch assholes much, so that was a pleasure in itself. You ain’t gotta do a thing.”

“Then when do you get off work?” Miri continues.

You lean over to look her in the face. “Once he’s done digging up your body from the side of the road.”

“Oh please, like you could kill me,” she chortles. “Maybe you could come over tonight and inspect our fire? We’re finally going to use that permission slip tonight, make s’mores, crack some cold beer. You could make sure we’re doing it correctly.”

Dante smirks. “Only if I’m wanted there by all concerned parties.”

You bite back a smile and shrug. “Free invite. Do with it what you will.”

“Maybe I will.” he turns when his name is called to pick up his order.

That evening, Philip is still sulking and kind of acting like a dick, enough so that Arnie is getting fed up with him. As the fire is being lit, someone is walking around the side of the cabin.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Philip hisses at Arnie.

Dante just stares over at him before looking your way. “My invite still stands?” he asks Miri.

“Of course!” Miri invites him to join you at the table on the porch. After that, Philip disappears, probably back inside. You end up talking with Dante the entire time, finding a chemistry between you that Philip lacked. He’s slightly serious, his humor dry, but he’s attentive and lets you talk more than he does.

You’re getting drunk as the night wears on. Miri and Arnie are snuggled by the fire, while you and Dante continue to talk at the table. “You know,” you sigh. “I really hate it out here. I mean like, trees and bushes and stuff.”

Dante just smirks. “You don’t like nature?”

“Oh god I love nature. I used to love camping. But nowadays I get so scared,” you slur, taking another sip of beer.

Dante nods. “Any reason for that?”

You wag your fingers for him to come in closer. “I always say its bears. People tend to let that alone.”

He arches his brow. “Are you afraid of ghosts?”

“No! You got ghosts?”

He laughs and just shakes his head. “Trying to joke.”

“Oh, well, I ain’t.” You poke the tip of his nose. “You see, it sounds fake, but I got a video and everything.”

Dante furrows his brows. “Of what?”

“A big woof.”

“What?”

You pat his shoulder like it will make your point come across stronger. “The full moon doggie.”

Dante clicks his tongue. “A wolf?”

You tug his shirt sleeve. “Yeah! But no! The one that… that movies make scary.”

He takes your beer away from your hands. “That’s enough of that.”

“I’m fine, I just get stupid. You wanna see the movie?”

He looks at you with that resting serial killer face of his. “What movie?”

“Of the full moon doggie. I’ve never showed anyone, but you seem cool.” You grab his hand and take him inside. You lead him to your room, where you shuffle around for your phone. You fall over and Dante picks you up, helping you sit back on your bed. “Easy,” he huffs.

“I got it!” You hold your phone up. “Let me show you the moon doggie.”

Dante grabs your hand, covering the screen of your phone. “I know what you’re talking about,” he says in a hushed voice.

You look at him bleary-eyed. “You do? You seen one?”

He pushes your phone down. “Have you shown that to anyone? Posted it anywhere?”

You shake your head. “No. I was too afraid.” You feel more sober the more urgent his tone becomes. “Why?”

“But you haven’t deleted it?”

Your eyes dart over his face. “You’re being creepy again.”

Dante grabs the back of your neck and holds you stiff. “If I find out you ever showed that video to anyone, I will find you.”

“Hey.” Your voice breaks. “Let me go.”

Dante takes your phone away. “You’ll get this back when you’re sober.” He lets you go and stands up. “Find me tomorrow.”

That’s the last thing you remember. You wake up the next day, groggy and feeling dry as a bone. Only after a shower and a gallon of water does the memory return.

“Hey, uh...” You try to think up an excuse as Arnie and Miri look at you. “I...” you still can’t think of anything. “I’m going.”

“Going?” Miri furrows her brow. “Going where?”

“Out,” you say slowly. “For ice cream. Want any?” You hate yourself, you really do.

You end up taking ice cream orders for Miri and Arnie, then go to the front desk to find Dante. He tells you to meet him down at the beach, near the picnic tables. There are a few people about, but since it’s cloudy and threatening rain, there aren’t as many as there usually are. You see Dante though as he stands up from a table. As you approach, he hands you your phone.

You look at your phone, then him. “You didn’t look through it, did you.”

“No,” he grumbles. “I took it as collateral to make sure you would come today.”

You frown, feeling the hair at the back of your neck prickle up. You glance around, glad the workers for the snack stand are coming in, as well as the few people walking their pets around the beach. “Then why am I here? What do you want?”

He drops his arms down to the side and stiffens his neck. “Just last night you told me that you still have a video of me on there.”

Your throat clenches, and it becomes hard to swallow. “But I’ve never met you before,” you say with a shake of the head. “I wouldn’t...”

He looks around quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Three years ago at Grover Camper Park.”

Your jaw drops, and a cold sweat runs down your back. You take a few steps back and stare up at him as your skin goes icy. “Oh.” You feel so tightly squeezed that no air gets in or out.

Dante scowls at you. “Yeah, I’m the moon doggie.”

#monsterxhuman #werewolf #monster boyfriend #monster romance #werewolf boyfriend #my writing #momolady monsters #monster fudger

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1ddiscourseoftheday · 4 years ago

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Sun 11 April ‘21

Liam is back and in excellent form! I have missed chatty Liam, he is such a chill pleasure to virtually hang out with. He went live to answer questions about his performance and joke around. He trolled fans in his response to a question about collabs- “I’d love to do one with hmm... Niall... and Zayn... and Harry and Louis,” he teased, and joked that “they’re here! Behind this curtain! Haha no… we could have put them in virtually! Probably would have gotten cease and desist letters from their managers…” and considered who would send the first letter. “Zayn,” he giggled, but then added that in fact his next upcoming collab is “with myself, tonight!” (hmm sounds dirty when you put it like THAT Liam!) And about the performance? Liam agreed that it’s very confusing but said he’d make things easier on us by naming virtual Liam; he’s Kelvin. He said he (Liam not Kelvin) has “been away for a while, been having a bit of time” and then immediately added that in fact he’s been rehearsing and working on this performance a lot but that “it’s the only thing I’ve been doing.” He said IDK when is LP2 coming- “when I can get to LA and work” (because he doesn’t like writing on zoom), that he’s currently working on a song for a film but that he can’t tell us anything about it but that it’s with some old friends he’s known since he was 17, they were the first people 1D worked with, that he’d consider making a visual album, “maybe a cartoon or something… maybe even an NFT, who knows!” A man in touch with what the fans want, always (well except for the NFT thing), he fulfilled my wish and demonstrated making faces to program Kelvin, and he shared a picture of his mo-cap feet like SEE they look like TINY SNAKES right? And then asked people to trend tinysnakes and the fans dutifully obliged. Look out you guys, it’s a tiny snake habitat!

And the performances? Well first there was the avatar-only one and I finally understand why he kept saying he’d be anywhere you wanted him in your house, sorry- I think other people got it all along and I just… didn’t… but anyway it’s like a pokemon go thing were tiny Liam Kelvin is just perched on your dirty laundry or table or whatever you point your phone at. ANYWAY, virtual Liam is awkward and weird and not a very good lipsyncer, but real Liam sounds amazing and looks terrific and the contrast only draws more attention to how well Liam holds the space on stage and how good he looked, in particular when they put the avatar and Liam together for the main event. He/ they sang Midnight, and it sounded great and was a big hit besides, the papers loved him as the show opener and were into the gimmick.

Louis’ new friend Sergio Aguero talked about DMing with him on his recent twitch stream (Sergio’s). Being Argentinian he ofc just starts talking to him about mate (the Argentinian tea, not bros, pronounced like mah-tay) which I have to say is dead on brand for every Argentinian I have ever met; you think Louis is serious about his Yorkshire but he’s probably met his beverage obsessed match here! Anyway so Sergio is like do you like mate, and “check out my tea stuff” (and sends him a picture of the traditional gourd and straw drinking apparatus) and Louis is like “idk what that is mate” which is hilarious because what it is… is mate… which is spelled the same… which Sergio tries to explain to his viewers but anyway yeah that’s the tea! Lol. He said that Louis has reached out a while back (but he didn’t know who Louis was until he was like “I was in One Direction”) and invited Sergio to a footie match in Portugal (to play with Louis’ famous people league team we’ve heard about before I bet) but he couldn’t go and they just started chatting now, after Louis messaged again; Louis was in Mexico but they’re gonna hang out when he’s back in the UK, and Sergio will give him some mate! LMAO OF COURSE he will. Louis will absolutely hate it but I would LOVE to see him try to be nice about some unfamiliar bitter herb water served in a gourd that sounds like PURE GOLD tbh.

Anne Marie talked about the Niall teaser pic for their collab. She said she’d wanted to work with him because “I just love his voice and he’s Irish, you know, he’s hot”, lol, and that “ he was just playing guitar, playing piano, and I was like wow you’re actually talented cause you never know who’s actually talented these days” and “we wrote like three songs and they were all brilliant.” Will we ever hear the other two songs?? I mean I’m fine to start with just the one, anytime now, but something to consider...

Falling won an ADG Award, the members of the Art Director’s Guild apparently feeling that Harry’s leaky piano was better than the competition, Taylor Swift’s leaky piano, and the tabloids picked up on twitter chatter about Harry going blond for My Policeman (because the character in the book is blond some people think he will bleach his hair) and then everyone talked about it more because the tabloids said so IT MUST BE TRUE. UM, are you even hearing yourselves? They don’t know shit people this is a feedback loop here.

#Liam payne #Louis tomlinson #harry styles #niall horan #okay so now the Liam /Liam ship name is Livin I guess? Like lee-vin?#liam said on his live he was doing the first perf somewhere then rushing to the royal albert hall to do #the baftas one- FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER #wtf #even more impressive it was so good #SO anyway that’s what Louis gets up to I guess watching handsome footie players livestream and sliding into their DMs #REPEATEDLY until they respond lol thats my fave part #11 apr 21 #clone liam #sergio aguero #anne marie #THANK YOU intern for espanol translating #and no shade intended to mate I like it fine but LOUIS. will HATE it. so much lol #Harry would like it I bet #he'd be into the special straw #niall and liam eh maybe not so much #liam would get into it as a health craze thing maybe #zayn probably drinks mate all night while he works in the studio or at least he'd be super down #to get high with some argentinians and drink hella mate

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years ago

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Meant To Be Yours | Luke Patterson

A/N: this is for all the Heathers fans and Musical Theater lovers out there! I was listening to the soundtrack today and realized how incredibly good Luke would be at singing meant to be yours... Nobody asked for this but... Here ya goooo!

Pairing: Luke Patterson x Musical Theater Program!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, minor swearing

Words: 5,470

Being a Musical Theater fan and in Los Feliz High’s Musical Theater program has never made Y/N very popular with her peers. Besides her friends at the Musical Theater program and Julie and Flynn, she never really had many people taking as much as a glance at her. None of that really improved when she and Luke started dating. No one believed she was dating the cute hologram band member from Julie and The Phantoms. Thank God they don’t know the truth. Dating a ghost would get her twice the bullying.

The first time she saw them was when the boys performed ‘Bright’ with Julie at the spirit rally about three months ago. Julie had never told Y/N she played with a hologram band, and though Flynn was upset about it, Y/N just found it incredibly confusing. Julie would’ve told her and Flynn about a hologram band. There must be something else that she’s not telling her, she figured. Something just doesn’t add up about the whole story. And after an entire night of lying awake in bed, she heads to Julie’s garage before school the next day , finding the three hologram band boys there, hanging around together.

She glances from the cute guy behind the drums, to the other with the flannel, to finally land on the -- in her opinion -- cutest of the three with the orange beanie covering most of his dark hair, trying to connect the dots. “Oh, hey, Y/N,” Julie greets when she enters the garage, making Y/N snap out of her thoughts. “Dad told me he saw you walk into the studio.” She glances at the boys, trying her hardest to pretend they’re not even there. “So… Are you going to tell me why your hologram band is in your garage?” Julie’s eyes widen at this question, then dart to each of the boys, who look about as confused as her. “Y-you can see them?” Julie stutters, trying to figure out what’s happening. “Yes? Am I not supposed to?” Y/N’s eyes dart over to the boys again as they gather closer towards the two girls. “Why are you all looking at me like that?” She’s growing more and more nervous. Maybe she has something on her face. “You better sit down for this one,” Julie gently pushes her down on the armchair before standing in front of her with the boys behind her. “They’re ghosts… They died in 1995 when they ate some bad hot dogs and I’m pretty much the only one that can see them… Except for you, apparently.” Y/N tries her hardest to understand what’s happening right now. Those three boys are ghosts. And she can see them. She can see three ghosts. “I knew the hologram story was bullshit,” she finally manages to bring out after a couple of seconds of silence. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I didn’t want you to think I’d gone completely crazy…” Y/N lets a small smile shine out. She’d been there for Julie when she’d lost her mother and Julie had been there after Y/N’s grandmother had passed away too. “You know my grandmother used to be in this voodoo crap when she was alive, I would’ve believed you if you’d just told me.” The two girls chuckle at this, remembering the times Y/N’s grandmother used to babysit the two after school and she’d tell them these stories about ghosts and witches and voodoo. Back then, the girls used to giggle at them and mimic Grammy Dottie on their sleepovers. “I know, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you…” Julie takes Y/N’s hands in hers, pulling her up on her feet again. “Will you forgive me?” Y/N pretends to think about it before nodding, the two of them giggling as they embrace. Y/N’s eyes then land on the boys behind her. “You might wanna introduce me to your band though,” she whispers in her best friend’s ear. “Right,” Julie lets go of Y/N and turns to face the boys. “Boys, this is Y/N Y/L/N. My best friend since diapers, pretty much. Y/N, this is my band.” “I’m Reggie!” the boy in the flannel raises his finger, “Hi!” He gives her the most excited smile, followed by a little wave. Y/N returns the favor. “I’m Alex,” the blonde guy she’d seen behind the drums earlier, takes his turn to introduce himself. Y/N let out a soft ‘hi’ before looking over at the last member. The one in the orange beanie. The one with the gorgeous, tender hazel eyes and the soft smile plastered on his face. He doesn’t introduce himself at first, it takes Reggie nudging him with his elbow before he flinches back to earth. “I-I’m Luke….” A faint blush creeps onto his cheeks. “It’s very nice to meet you, boys,” she says to all of them, but keeps her eyes on Luke. There’s something about him that attracts her eyes to him. Maybe it’s the smile or the eyes. Or the arms. But just maybe there’s something about this vibe he’s giving off. This kind-hearted, passionate, excited vibe that makes him so much more attractive. Just something about the way he carried himself with so much humbled confidence. There was just something about Luke.

Though Y/N found it weird at first, having a crush on a ghost, she couldn’t stop her brain from thinking about him or her heart from beating faster every time he was near. Julie and Flynn even noticed her drawing hearts in her notes from class, and humming love songs in the hallways. They couldn’t keep themselves from teasing you about it either. “Back on Cloud Luke, Y/N?” Flynn makes her snap out of her thoughts when Julie and her join Y/N at the lunch table. A scarlet tint crawls onto her cheeks as she subtly hides the ‘LP’ doodles she’d drawn in her musical script. “What?! No!” she yelps out a little too defensively. “I don’t have a crush on Luke, you guys. I don’t know where you get your information…” she chuckles nervously before sipping from her drink. Flynn and Julie exchange glances. “Exhibit A,” Julie starts and tugs the script from underneath Y/N’s arm. “Your billions of doodles of hearts and his initials in your script and notes.” Flynn whips out her phone, opening Twitter on Y/N profile. “Exhibit B,” she stars, and shows her friend the last few tweets, “You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams,” She dramatically reads out the most recent one. “And I'd give up forever to touch you, 'cause I know that you feel me somehow. You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be and I don't wanna go home right now.” “That last one is a great song,” Y/N points out. “Sure, but you never Tweet any quotes or song lyrics unless you’re truly feeling it,” Julie reasons. Y/N knows her friends are right. She does have a crush on Luke but she doesn’t want to admit she’s crushing on a ghost. A ghost. Made of air. “You can’t deny there’s chemistry between the two of you, Y/N. You’ve been inseparable since day one. Plus, he’s hella cute,” Flynn states. Y/N’s lips curl up into a smile at this. “Just remember he’s made out of air,” Julie adds, making all three of them chuckle. “Cute air,” Y/N retorts with a shrug. Flynn places a hand on hers, making her look up at her friend. “Just don’t get hurt, okay? It’s clear the two of you are mad for each other.” Y/N’s eyebrows furrow at this in confusion. “Luke doesn’t feel the same for me. Who would ever fall in love with the Musical Theater Nerd?” Her voice lowers, as does her head as she stares at her fidgeting hands on the table. “Uh, have you taken a look at yourself in the mirror? Ever?” Julie exclaims, almost angrily. “You are so gorgeous, Y/N,” Flynn chimes in with affirmation. “You have a killer body,” Julie continues. “A killer voice,” Flynn goes on. “And you are so hilarious. Luke would be really stupid if he didn’t see that!” Y/N can’t help but smile at these compliments. Julie and Flynn always know how to cheer the girl up. “Just talk to him tonight after rehearsals.” Y/N nods her head, inhaling slowly. That night, Julie, Reggie and Alex quickly left after rehearsals, each with another excuse just so the two love birds could be alone. Y/N rolled her eyes at that, turning back to her script. Luke places his guitar in its stand before joining the girl on the couch, swatting away the script from her lap, and lying down with his head in her lap instead. She doesn’t say anything, but just lets him do whatever he feels comfortable doing. She’s now holding her script in one hand, resting it on his chest, while her other goes to his hair. It’s become an automatism for her to do that. Whether he was lying in her lap or they were just sitting next to each other, she always found her fingers tangling up in his hair. Ever since figuring out she could touch the guys, Luke has been very clingy towards her, asking for cuddles or grabbing her hand and playing around with the rings around her fingers or the bracelets around her wrists. “What are you doing?” he asks, looking at the script. “Preparing for the audition for the new musical next week,” she replies without taking her eyes off the script. The boys knew the girl could sing, and they often let her talk about her favorite musicals even though they had no clue about any of them since they’d come out after they died. “Which one is it?” he asks, his fingers running up and down her arm that’s resting on his chest. “Heathers,” she replies, “It’s based on the movie from the 80’s, do you know that one?” “Yeah, I think I watched it with Alex and his sister,” he replies, “They made a musical from that?” Y/N nods her head, her eyes glancing at his. He’s on his back, looking up at her. “Please, tell me you’re not going for one of the Heathers, though?” She shakes her head with a giggle. “Good, because I didn’t really like either of them in the movie.” “None of their parts are really in my range. I’m going to audition for Veronica.” He nods his head slowly, trying to remember which character that was. “The part Winona Ryder played in the movie.” He let out a whispered ‘aaaaaah’. “It’s a pretty big role, so I doubt I’ll actually get it.” Luke frowns at this, and sits up to face her with a disapproving scowl on his face. “You’re insanely talented, Y/N! If they don’t cast you as Veronica, they’re just crazy!” She smiles at his compliment. “Thanks, Luke…” she trails off a little, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “There are just so many talented people in the Musical Theater Program that I doubt they’ll pick me instead of them.” She chuckles at her own pathetic behavior. “It’s lame, I know…” He reaches for her hand when these words roll out of her mouth, capturing her attention again. “It’s not lame, Y/N. I get insecure sometimes too! Sometimes, I get these bouts of anxiety where I think our band will never be good enough for the music industry or for any manager to ever take us on. I sometimes think our songs aren’t good enough, or I’m not good enough. It’s normal, I think.” His words do make her feel a little better. “You just need someone to tell you otherwise and get those ugly thoughts out of your pretty head,” he taps her temple softly twice, making her giggle. “That’s really comforting, Luke, thank you…” She offers him a thankful smile whilst ignoring this gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wants to kiss him so badly, and judging from his eyes darting from her eyes to her lips and back, he’s thinking the exact same thing. She leans in a little, her head tilting and eyes fluttering. Butterflies erupt in her stomach as she catches Luke to do the same. They’re inches away when Carlos abruptly opens the garage doors, making the two of them jump away. The little boy’s eyes widen when he finds his sister’s best friend on the couch, cheeks reddening. “Oh, hey, Y/N. I didn’t know you were still here,” he chuckles awkwardly. Y/N knows why he’s here though. He likes to use the bathroom in the back, especially for all his number two’s. “Yeah, I was uh… Rehearsing for my audition next week,” she holds her script up in the air as proof. “You need the garage, don’t you?” He shoots her an awkward, toothy smile, which is enough for Y/N to know that he needs it for the exact reason he always needs it. “All right, I’m gone…” She glances at Luke whilst reaching past him for her backpack. “Meet me outside,” he tells you before poofing out. You do as told after saying goodbye to Carlos and leaving the garage where you find Luke sitting on the rock near the stairs to the house. She walks up a few of the stairs, so she’s on his eye-level. “I have an idea. If you want, I could help you rehearse some songs and dialogue? I could even ask the boys to help out?” She can’t withhold a smile at this suggestion of his. “You don’t know any of the music, though?” she fairly points out. “We’ll do our homework,” he replies with a grin. “Trust me, Y/N. We’ll be able to help you prepare for this audition, I promise!” Without thinking twice about it, she reaches up and kisses him on the cheek and whispers a thank you in his ear before turning on her heel and leaving the boy flustered on the rock. You didn’t talk to him like you’d promised Julie and Flynn. But at least now you know he kind of feels the same.

The first kiss happened during the first rehearsal they planned in preparation for the audition. It’s after the Julie and The Phantoms rehearsal. Y/N’s on the couch, waiting for them to finish while going over some lines and lyrics, though her eyes often diververt to Luke. He watches her too, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He can’t wait to start rehearsing with her. When he told the boys about helping Y/N out with her audition, the boys had given him knowing glances. They told him he had to do something about this obvious crush he had on her. They often teased him about kissing her, even during their rehearsals when they caught the two looking at each other with desire in their eyes. “Are you ready, Y/N?” Reggie asks when the rehearsal with Julie finishes. His voice makes her avert her eyes from Luke’s, clearly far away on Cloud Luke. “Mmh?” she hums, not having registered his question until she repeats it in her mind, “Oh, yeah!” She gets up from the couch to join the boys at their instruments whilst Julie sits down on the couch instead. She offers Y/N an encouraging grin, excited to hear her sing again. Julie and Flynn were always the ones on the front row during any of the musicals the Theatre Program put on. They were there when Y/N played Chris in Carrie, and when she played Janice in Mean Girls. That last one was Julie’s favorite role she’d ever seen Y/N in. “We listened to the entire soundtrack last night, Julie showed us,” Alex informs his friend excitedly, proud he’s so informed on the musicals from the last decade. “We listened to the Broadway version and the West End version, so just tell us what you wanna do.” “I’m kind of stuck between these two songs to do for my audition. I wanna do I Say No, from the West End version because it showcases my range really well. But I also wanna do Seventeen because it’s my favorite, though I’m gonna need a person to duet with.” She can’t hide the fact that she wanted to duet the song with Luke, even though he can’t join her on the audition. Because one, you can only audition with someone from the program, and two… Luke is dead. “Let’s try the first one first?” Reggie suggests, looking over at Y/N. “Sure, you guys know the chords?” she asks the two with the guitars. They both nod before starting to play, Alex joining in with the drums too. Y/N grabs Julie’s white microphone after silently asking for her permission, which she granted by nodding her head. “You are a drug You are a poison pill I've got to kick this habit now Or else I never will I loved the rush When you would hold me close But you will not be satisfied Until I overdose” Julie has always admired how she can switch off from the world around her and get into character so quickly. The passion in her eyes and facial expressions are convincing, to say the least. “This is it Hit the brake I am finally awake Let me be Let me go You need help I can't provide I am not qualified This troubled teen is getting clean I say no” “Veronica, who else is gonna be-” Y/N’s eyes widen for a second when Luke chimes in with JD’s line in the song. But recomposes herself and turns to him completely, singing the next part to him. “No, no, no, no! Don't say a word You speak and I cave in You'll twist the truth again And drill deep down beneath my skin You said you'd change And I believed in you But you're still using me to justify the harm you do” She turns to Julie again, as if speaking to the audience like she would in the play. This leaves Luke a bit disappointed. He keeps his eyes on her, a smile tugging at his lips as he admires her. “This is it Hit the brake Call it all my mistake Long as you let me go You need help I can't provide I'm not Bonnie You're not Clyde It's not too late I'm getting straight I say no” Julie gets up from the couch and moves to the keyboard to back up with some softer tones for the bridge as the boys stop playing their instruments, whilst Y/N turns to Luke again. Imagining him as Jason Dean would be a terrible idea, but she’s going with it. “Blame your childhood, blame your dad Blame the life you never had But hurting people? That's your choice, my friend” The boys join in with their instruments again, building up the rest of the bridge. “'Cause I believe that love will win And hate will earn you nothing in the end This is the end” Luke looks at her in admiration and so much love, and decides to say JD’s line, though with a softer touch. “But I love you!” Y/N almost believes it, but recomposes herself, remembering the role she’s supposed to play and withhold during an entire musical. “Dude” She steps away from him while the boys sing the chorus along with her. “This is it I won't cry Starting now, I will try To pay back All the karma I owe Start again Somewhere new Far from cold guys like you So goodbye 'Cause now I I say no Just in time I say no Somehow I'm saying no Just say no I say no No!” The boys stop playing as Y/N lowers her microphone, panting from the last high notes she had to hit, and hit flawlessly. Reggie and Alex exchange glances with Julie while Luke simply stares at Y/N, a content sigh leaving his body. “That was so good!” Reggie makes Y/N snap out her thoughts -- like why Luke’s ‘I love you’ sounded so real. “I got ghost bumps!” He shows his arm even though it’s covered by his leather jacket. Y/N chuckles, biting down her lip nervously. “Let’s do the other one,” Alex then suggests, “Which was that? The duet, right?” Y/N nods her head slowly as nerves course through her body. She knows Luke’s going to want to play JD, like he’s done in the previous song too. “Luke, are you up for it?” The words roll off her lips before she allows them to. He nods his head eagerly, making the others chuckle, knowing why. They’d talked about this song last night, the boys teasing Luke by telling him he should probably learn this by heart if he wants to conquer Y/N’s heart. Y/N nods at Alex, who counts them in before hitting his drums, Julie and Reggie joining in with their instruments when needed. Y/N turns to face Luke, getting into the character of Veronica Sawyer again. “Fine! We're "damaged" Really "damaged" But that does not make us "wise" We're not "special", we're not "different" We don't choose who lives or dies Let's be normal, see bad movies Sneak a beer and watch TV We'll bake brownies or go bowling Don't you want a life with me? Can't we be seventeen? That's all I want to do If you could let me in I could be good with you” Her soft melodic and angelic voice makes Luke all mushy inside. “People hurt us” “Or they vanish” He sounds as vulnerable as JD does in this moment. “And you’re right, that really blows But we let go” “Take a deep breath” “And go buy some summer clothes We’ll go camping” “Play some poker” Y/N chuckles a little as her eyes tear up slightly at the tenderness of his voice. “And we’ll eat some chili fries Maybe Prom night” “Maybe dancing” “Don’t stop looking in my eyes” The power behind her voice surprises Luke that he has no other choice but to look in her eyes. All while the others join in with their instruments at full force. “Your eyes” “Can't we be seventeen Is that so hard to do? If you could let me in I could be good with you” The music gets more powerful, as do their voices. “Let us be seventeen If we've still got the right” “So what's it gonna be? I wanna be with you” “Wanna be with you” “Tonight” The electricity between the two of them and the desire that had been there all along now takes the better of her. In the heat of it all, she launches herself in Luke’s arms, pressing her lips to his in a fiery, passionate kiss. The others don’t stop playing, but they do exchange surprised and relieved glances. She breaks the kiss, but presses her forehead against his as she continues singing the song like the true professional she is. “Yeah, we’re damaged” “Badly damaged” “But your love’s too good to lose” “Hold me tighter” “Even closer” “I’ll stay if I’m what you choose” “Can we be seventeen?” “If I am what you choose” “If we’ve still got the right” “‘Cause you’re the one I choose” “You’re the one I choose” “You’re the one I choose” Suddenly, the lyrics have gotten an entirely different meaning. Especially the way they’re singing it, makes it seem like they’re actually singing it to each other. Like Y/N is singing to Luke and Luke to Y/N. Not Veronica and Jason Dean. Y/N coughs awkwardly as she steps away from Luke, glancing at the others who have their teasing grins at the ready. “That’s in the script…” she tries, but the laughter that erupts from their friends tells her she can’t lie to them. Luke and Y/N stare at each other, a shy smile on their faces as they let them laugh it out. It takes a little while before they actually die down. “Sure, Y/N, that looked very scripted,” Julie says, patting her best friend’s shoulder. There’s nothing left to hide now. You and Luke are very much in love with one another. Though it still feels weird to be in love with a ghost who, quite frankly, would be about twenty years older if he hadn’t died, Y/N couldn’t hide the feelings she had for this boy. There was no hiding it after that outburst they had just now. But maybe that’s for the better.

Thanks to the help of the boys and Julie, Y/N landed the role of Veronica Sawyer in Los Feliz High’s rendition of Heathers the Musical. Not only that, Luke and Y/N have now been dating for a month now. He’s been incredibly supportive over the course of the rehearsals of the musical, and she has been supportive of the band. It’s been fun and games, so far. Making out in the loft after band rehearsals or backstage in the auditorium, singing songs together at the top of their lungs whilst dancing around her room (though her parents complained about that), and cuddling on the couch whilst going over Y/N’s lines together. Nothing ever happened to cause an argument until Luke sat in a rehearsal for the musical when they were going over the Dead Girl Walking scene. Watching his very alive girlfriend kiss another very alive boy isn’t quite the confidence boost. He lasts until halfway through the song when the guy playing JD rips Y/N’s shirt open. That’s when he just had to get out of there. Y/N couldn’t tell anyone they were dating, and if she did, no one believed her she was dating the hologram boy from Julie’s band. Which also meant boys hitting on her when she was in her Veronica costume, mostly the boy who played Jason Dean. “Having a girl on top of you makes you realize things,” he had said. Y/N told him she wasn’t interested, but that didn’t stop the boy from trying. She had told Luke that. Her first mistake. Because ever since then, he has never missed a rehearsal. Y/N knew this scene was coming up, and she had tried to tell Luke he shouldn’t come, but of course he didn’t listen. And now he’s upset with her because she had told him about her minor crush on Christian Slater -- the original JD from the movie -- and about the JD song she loved so much. He knew how sexy she thought that song was, especially when the actor sings it as raw as Jamie Muscato or Ryan McCartan did in the West End and off-Broadway version. She’s not surprised to find Luke and the boys in the studio when she gets back, their instruments in hand, but no Julie to be seen. Only the very familiar riff of a Heathers song sounding through the amps. She halts in the doorway, crossing her arms as she watches the boys. None of them has seen her yet, which gives her the rawest and most honest version of this song. “You chucked me out like I was trash, For that you should be dead— But! But! But! Then it hit me like a flash, What if high school went away instead Those assholes are the key! They're keeping you away from me! They made you blind, messed up your mind But I can set you free!” Reggie jumps around whilst playing the bass, letting himself go on the beat. Even Alex is so lost in his drumming, he doesn’t even notice the girl in the doorway. And Luke has his scowl set on the void, possibly imagining the boy’s face and wanting to punch him in the face. “You left me and I fell apart, I punched the wall and cried— Bam! Bam! Bam!” Y/N flinches at the sudden loudness of his voice. “Then I found you changed my heart and set loose all that truthful shit inside! And so I built a bomb Tonight our school is Vietnam! Let's guarantee they'll never see their senior prom!” His voice grows a little softer at the chorus, showing his more delicate side, the side Y/N has come to love so much. “I was meant to be yours! We were meant to be one! Don't give up on me now! Finish what we've begun! I was meant to be yours!” He sounds angry and frustrated during the next verse, a hint of menace laced in his voice. To his girlfriend, it sounds incredibly sexy. He suddenly seems twice as attractive. “So when the high school gym goes boom with everyone inside— Pchw! Pchw! Pchw! In the rubble of their tomb We'll plant this note explaining why they died!” She sees this as her chance to announce her presence. She quickly runs over to Julie’s microphone and starts singing along on the bridge where the ensemble would join in. Luke’s head snaps up at her, bewilderment and surprise in his eyes, along with some embarrassment. “We, the students of Westerburg High Will die. Our burnt bodies may finally get through To you. Your society churns out slaves and blanks No thanks. Signed the Students of Westerburg High 'Goodbye.'” Y/N gives him a nod of encouragement, telling him to continue. He does as he’s told with even more power behind his voice and even some amusement as a smile plays at his lips. She grabs the microphone from the stand and dances up to him. “We'll watch the smoke poor out the doors. Bring marshmallows, We'll make s'mores! We can smile and cuddle while the fire roars!” Along with Reggie and Alex, Y/N takes care of the backing vocals whilst Luke lets himself go in the song. His voice becomes more and more raspy with the second, sending shivers down his girlfriend’s spine. “I was meant to be yours! We were meant to be one! I can't make this alone! Finish what we've begun! You were meant to be mine! I am all that you need! You carved open my heart! Can't just leave me to bleed!” He turns to her as she offers him her microphone for the next bit. The fact he’s looking into her eyes doesn’t help her subdue her feelings. At all. In fact, it just increases those butterflies and shivers and curling of the toes. “Veronica, open the—open the door, please' Veronica, open the door. Veronica, can we not fight anymore' Please, can we not fight anymore' Veronica, sure, you're scared, I've been there. I can set you free! Veronica, don't make me come in there! I'm gonna count to three! One! Two! Fuck it!” She can’t detain her feelings anymore and crashes her lips onto his again, exactly like that time they rehearsed Seventeen together and they had their first kiss. Reggie and Alex exchange glances, though this time it’s with an eyeroll. Luke pulls away when he has to sing the very last bit of the song, keeping his forehead pressed to hers. His voice is back to its vulnerable side as he stares into his girlfriend’s eyes with so much regret for ever feeling so jealous of any lifer guy she’d ever interacted with. “Please don't leave me alone You were all I could trust I can't do this alone” He steps back from her to hit the last high note whilst Alex goes off on the drums one last time. “Still I will if I must!” Y/N watches her boyfriend for a moment, a tender, proud smile on her face and admiration in her eyes. Luke’s confidence when he plays his music, or any music for that matter, is so hot and attractive to Y/N. Though she loves his more vulnerable and adorable side he mostly pulls up whenever he’s with her, that rockstar side of his really is a close second. “Are you guys really gonna make out every time you sing together or…?” Reggie asks, capturing the couple’s attention. Y/N takes Luke’s hand in hers, intertwining their fingers together whilst her other hand rests on his bicep. “You would too if your boyfriend was so hot,” she answers, and presses a kiss to his bare shoulder. Luke smiles down at her before returning a kiss on her hair. “Now, if you guys don’t have anymore rehearsing to do, I’d like to take Luke to go and rehearse another scene together…” she trails off. As she looks up at her boyfriend and his eyes meet her suggestive glance, he already knows what’s up. “No, we’re done here, I think,” he says quickly, “Right, guys? Yes, yes, we are!” He rushes his girlfriend out the garage and to the house next door to the Molina’s where he helps you ‘rehearse’ the Dead Girl Walking scene.

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @parkeret @lukeys-giggle @gingerxarmy @lovesanimals @lolychu @perfectlywrongformend3s @luckylouiebug @kiss-themoongoodbye @camiladelrio98 @myfriendscallmebeans

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starrysupercell · 3 years ago

Note

How on earth do Buzz & Stu fit the Bad Randoms into their strict schedules, with Buzz being a lifeguard and Stu being... something? More importantly, how did they become a band if they've got nothing in common? Are they off-screen friends?

One Band Origin Story coming right up!

🥁🎙🎸

So Buzz, I like to think that he got a littttllee bit of flak from a few other Brawlers about how "ineffective" he is and how he's "just making things worse" as a lifeguard. (like Jacky, Carl, Frank and Bull.)

Some of his friends (Shelly, Jessie and the Junker Line) defended him, but the Dino was like "eh, I'm fine guys, really. Who needs them anyway?" Then proceeded to wallow with pity for a few days because he loved that sense of accomplishment that came with being a lifeguard but apparently not everyone felt that way so whatdoesitmattereventrying--

But, since he has to work somewhere in the Park to stay, he opts for a different job, at least for the time being.

So he looks around for a bit, and lands a job with the Entertainers Trio! Amber, Primo and Poco welcome him with open arms because they're arguably the friendliest Trio in the Park and they've already got the place mostly Amber-Proof so it's all good!!

It's been shown that Buzz does like the beat of music, as shown when he started grooving after saving Sunny the Duck Turret and being hugged by Jessie. So for sure he would have a strong appreciation for Poco's shows.

Though he would quickly catch on, Poco plays a lot, but he doesn't....sing?

Poco: well, it's because skeletons don't have vocal chords, and can't sing.

Buzz: But then how can you talk?

Poco: :) *strums his guitar nonchalantly* so anyway--

Poco absolutely loves collaborations and partnering up for different musical bits, (playing at Barley's, collaborating with Frank, Sandy and Piper, etc.) so it wasn't long until he and Buzz decided to work together on a piece, but first they had to find a good genre of music.

Enter the #1 most difficult robot in all of Starr Park...

I couldn't answer where Poco and Buzz were practicing different instruments to see what kind of music genre they could collaborate on, but it was cacophonous.

Buzz tried his whistle, his trombone, a harmonica and other wind instruments because as a life guard, you would just be silly to not use anything involving your lungs (in his mind.)

Poco's a very patient skeleton and didn't mind the discordant start of this collab at all. Thankfully, as that's what Buzz needed. Encouragement and patience!

However it did bother someone passing by. Stu, who's a little rude and mean because it's cool to be tough and you always have to show you're on top of it, drops in and asks what all the ruckus was.

"Terrible. Really t-t-terrible! Can't anybody go-o-o around without being f-forced to listen to a couple o-of noisemakers?" Looking around, he notices that there's countless instruments. "What's e-e-even going on here?"

Poco, ever the peacemaker, is about to say "Hey, no problem! My friend and I can just go if we're really bothering you that much."

But Buzz is Not going to stand that. One insult that hit too close to home leads to another and, surprise, surprise! A Brawl is how The Bad Randoms formed.

After the wreckage that ended in a weird kind of draw, because Poco healed the both of them to get them to stop, they finally talked like civilized Dinos/Robots/Skeleton.

It was explained to Stu that Poco and Buzz were planning a collab, and honestly that sounded pretty cool to Stu--

He asked what they had so far, and they sheepishly said that what he heard was what they had.

"Oh." He doesnt know how to go about saying it so he just takes the dive. "....would you. Maybe consider a third person."

Poco is delighted, because anybody interested in music is a big treat for him. "Do you know how to play anything?"

Buzz is a little reluctant because of the, oh I don't know, the Brawl they just had? Poco manages to convince him to glaze over that-- at least for now. If Stu chooses not to try and play nice, then he just won't play in the band at all.

I'm pretty sure Stu came up with the idea for heavy metal as their focus, and Poco was all for it again.

Everything actually clicked into place after that! Buzz decided that a wind instrument would not be heard over electric guitar or drums at all. Singing was the way to go, since he's great at yelling and making noise

Stu and Buzz do eventually get over their first bad meeting, and find out they have several things in common. Like the crippling need to be adored/needed by others staying active, similar movie tastes, humor, and socializing. :)

The only thing I'm drawing a blank on is if they're a recently public band how did Edgar have a t-shirt of their logo since last December?

So, that's how the Bad Randoms came to be!

Did Edgar make the shirt + design himself and the Bad Randoms liked it and paid to license it? Does he get royalties?? (between the Gift Shop, Goldarm Gang, and this, I wonder if he's actually well off in Gems and Coins now after that really rough patch. He shares with Colette but she blows it on Merch anyway.)

(And, just as a little bit of character detail for Stu.)

He doesn't like being told what to do. The Mechanics, Arcade Players, Max + Surge and other robots around the park who care about him are no exception. He just sees them as trying to cramp his style when they try to get him help though.

That's why I think Stu's friendship with Poco and Buzz is so important. It's not that they don't/didn't care about him to "improve" him, it's because they gave him a different outlet without bringing up his depression or self-destructive tendencies. Stu simply isn't a robot who likes talking about things like feelings because he thinks they're flaws.

So, to wrap things up, The Bad Randoms bring out the best in each other even though they now all spin in Showdown, go AFK in matches, and choose level two Brawlers in Power League. :)

#Brawl Stars #Bad Randoms #Ask #Quotes #Yes i made that Poco and vocal chords joke before but i lile it leave me alone #also Stu is almost a bully but if you talk back to him he cries #sorry this took so long!#i actually had that Poco + Buzz hc for a while #but fitting in Stu was still a wip #if your friendships in Starr Park don't contain at least one Brawl are yall really friends

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starlessskies94 · 3 years ago

Text

Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?

Pairing: Joel Miller x OC

Note: I will admit this isn't a long chapter but it's certainly a humdinger for sure! Hope you enjoy it! x

Chapter Nine

The attic.

Joel didn’t even know he had an attic.

It had taken him a goddamn hour since Tommy had stormed out to find the hatch door. Even after months the house still felt unfamiliar to him. Finding out there was a whole other part of it hidden away, only reminded him of that fact. He was still a stranger living in a stranger’s home.

It had been inside of his walk-in closet.

A downright stupid place for an attic hatch in Joel’s opinion but with a little effort; he’d just about managed to get the door open, extend the ladder out and fasten the bolts in place in order to get inside. He’d hesitated before climbing up; a quick glare to his still healing leg. But it was coming on stronger than he’d care to admit to himself. No longer really needing the cane anymore and mostly using it out of habit. It seemed that holding onto something when the panic came had been a way to ground himself he supposed. When the stress had become too much or the attempts at remembering had become overwhelming. He left the cane leaning against his bedroom wall and turned back towards the attic ladder; a deep breath let out out as he began to climb.

There wasn’t much up there if he was honest; at least not as much as he had been expecting. Just a couple of boxes left in the corner of the dusty space. Two boxes stacked neatly by one of the wooden beams; evidently pushed out of the way as to not stand out too easily. Joel found this whole thing leaving him even more confused; once again clouding his mind with more questions than answers. The all too familiar headache beginning to creep in along with it.

He kneeled slowly beside the small stack of boxes; pulling the top one way from its pile and gently placing it in front of him. The front caught his eye with scribbled black writing.

“Joel and Ada?” He whispered out loud to the dust and unbroken silence. Ada? What did she have to do with this? The man reluctantly removed the lid and ran his eyes over the contents and his stomach lurched at the sight. Pictures. It was a box full of pictures. All of Joel stood with the very same woman that had walked him home one snowy afternoon.

Except this was much more than friendship. The first framed photograph facing him was a picture of them; smiling together hand in hand in front of the small Jackson chapel... Ada wearing a white patched old dress standing proudly with Joel beside her, a wild flower pinned to his flannel shirt. This was a wedding. His wedding.

But he wasn’t married. That had always been something he was sure of. Sure he’d married Sarah’s mother but that had ended almost as quickly as it had started. They’d been way too young at the time and she’d left long before Sarah had really been able to remember her. He’d put the past behind him and always put his little girl first. It had been them against the world after that. Then he’d lost her; a fact he was still having trouble accepting even now. But it was still something he knew for certain. That part of his life was over. He hadn’t dated, hadn’t wanted to. And he was pretty sure there had been no one in Boston waiting for him either. From what Tommy had told him; their only priority had been to just survive. And yet here... right in front of him were pictures of him and Ada...together.

Some of them with the horses in the town’s barn. One of Ada apparently teaching Joel to cook in his kitchen. Although from the look of the smoke and mess, it clearly hadn’t gone well. There were others of Joel playing guitar with Ada singing beside him, another of the two sat by a mountain landscape watching the sunset by a flickering campfire. He quickly pushed them aside, his hands shaking as he dropped the last picture. He shuffled back onto his knees, twisting to reach the other box. Discarding the lid and once again peering inside the mess of hidden photographs. These pictures were of him and Ellie...out by the waters edge in the forest as the man moved to catch the girl in mid flight as she jumped from an overhanging log.

Standing together as the older man seemed to be introducing her, to what looked like a younger Shimmer in the stables. Family photos of all three of them smiling happily; dinners with Tommy and Maria, Christmases and birthdays. A faded picture of Joel standing outside the Wyoming Museum; his arm around the shoulder of a much younger Ellie wearing what looked like a space helmet; proudly showing off a dinosaur book to the camera. Looking at the girl; Joel had to guess she was maybe fourteen? Fifteen in the picture? He wasn't sure. Rummaging further through the box; he found a drawing of his own face staring back at him. His eyes glanced down at the cursive writing in the bottom corner.

‘To Joel, From Ellie.’

Joel swallowed hard, taking it all in before continuing his search through the box, his fingertips brushing against something cold and hard, he dug deeper and pulled out a poorly crafted mug. The handle was badly shaped and the rim was chipped; it looked like it had been sculpted by a child. It was painted a deeply shaded blue; with sloppy red writing on the side along with what looked like a green dinosaur wearing a hat.

‘Worlds Okayest Dad’ (Just kidding, love ya old man!) It read. Joel laughed quietly in spite of himself. Tommy was right, he did have a family. A wife...a kid.

God...how could he have forgotten he was a dad again? And why had Ellie and Ada not said anything?! They had moved out and left him alone. He felt sick at the realisation. Just what the hell had he done wrong for them to up and abandon him like that?

Why had Ada lied to his face when he had asked about her husband? Had everyone lied to him he wondered. Clearly too much of a burden for his wife to deal with apparently. The more he tried to piece things together; the harder his head hurt. It was like trying to read a book but the pages were blank; only the pictures to try to piece together the story. None of it made sense and it only made him that much more angry. His blood boiling as he threw the boxes across the attic floor, the frames smashing against the wood as they landed heavily in a pile before him. The pity in her eyes had only seemed patronising now; her kind smile was fake and wrong. The way Ellie had shied away from him in the barn all made sense now; the girl clearly ashamed by the pathetic charity case her father now was. Or perhaps Ada had told the teen to stay away from him.

Joel was sick and tired of wondering. He didn’t want pity; he wanted answers. He didn’t remember climbing back down or making his way down the street. His mind a blur; his injured leg aching in protest of clearly being pushed too far. But it only fuelled his anger; a hindrance that would only ever be a reminder of the burden he was now to the family, that had abandoned him when he’d needed them most.

When he found himself at Ada's door; he didn’t hesitate. His clenched fist rapping against the wood while the other screwed up the only photograph he’d taken in a hurry. The shards of glass from the broken frame, digging into the flesh of his palm. But he was too numb to feel it. His heart thumping so loudly, the sound echoed in his ears. It felt like an eternity when Adaline finally answered the door. The woman having the audacity to actually smile at him, his jaw tightened, almost tasting the bitterness that ran through his veins between gritted teeth and venomous tongue.

“Hey.” She greeted softly and Joel felt sick at the sight of her. “Everything okay?” he didn’t know why she was asking; it wasn’t as though she actually cared. Her smile quickly dissipated when she saw the cold look in his eye. The dark shadow that had descended across his features. “Joel…” She uttered cautiously.

“I think you and I need to talk.” He growled. She knew it wasn’t a question.

#joel miller #joel miller x oc #joel miller x reader #joel x oc #the last of us part ii #the last of us part 2 #joel and ellie #fanfiction #starlessskies writes

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chrwrites · 4 years ago

Text

On Wednesdays We Wear Pink

This was written for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers 250 Follower Celebration, I picked prompt #25 from 50 Wordless ways to say "I love you": Wearing clothes in their favorite color.

warnings: Implied sexual content and fade to black

read on ao3

If there was something Luka Couffaine hated doing, that was doing the laundry.

Hanging the clothes out to dry wasn’t much of a problem, just like ironing or putting them away didn't bother him. But sorting through the clothes and separating them according to different fabrics and their colours? That was something he couldn’t do.

No matter how hard he tried, or how many times the amazing fashion designer he was dating showed him how to wash clothes the correct way and was patient enough to repeat herself countless times, Luka would always manage to mess something up.

Why couldn’t he just put all the clothes in the washing machine with some detergent and softener and just start it like he had always done before he started living with Marinette, anyway? The clothes came out fine.

Except, Marinette didn't think the same when he accidentally got her favorite sweater to shrink three sizes, and she officially discharged him from doing this annoying chore after she came home to find Luka struggling with yarn and knitting needles, trying to follow some online tutorial that would help him make her a new sweater to replace the one he damaged.

But now that Marinette would be away for a month, Luka didn't have the heart to let the clothes pile up and give her more work to do when she came back. He had to take care of it.

He sighed as he resentfully loaded the washing machine, only looking at his white clothes to make sure he didn't pick anything that would get them stained. He was almost finished when his hand landed on a small red garment that was definitely not his and distracted him from his task, the memories of the wonderful night spent after taking that small piece of clothing off his girlfriend flooding his mind.

God, he missed her.

His thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing in the other room, and he scrambled to put the rest of the clothes inside the washing machine before he went to answer.

Marinette's cheerful voice greeted him, and Luka couldn't control the smile forming on his lips as soon as he heard her, “Hello, love. How's Milan treating you?”

He listened as she rambled about her day and told him about the challenges she had to face while working in another city, but the happiness and excitement in her voice made him smile along with her. He went back to the bathroom to set the washing machine in what he hoped was the right way, and started it.

“But enough talking about me,” Marinette said from the other side of the phone, ”I want to know what you've been up to.”

“Well,” Luka sighed, “Nothing much. Still working on the album. I've been trying to write, playing… Missing my muse...”

Marinette’s soft giggle rang in his ears, making his heart stutter the same way it did when they first met, “Aw, I miss you too,” she said, “I'll be back soon.”

“I know, it’s just not soon enough.”

“It’s only another week,” Marinette reminded, “then I’ll be back and I’ll be all yours.”

“I can’t wait.”

Smiling to himself, Luka set his phone down and grabbed his notebook and guitar. He settled on the couch and let the sudden rush of inspiration flow through his fingers to form a soft gentle melody that could do his love for Marinette justice.

He was so lost in the music that he forgot about the world around him, and when he heard a beep coming from the other room he jumped from the couch. He groaned when he realized that it was the washing machine signaling it was done, leaned his head to the back of the couch and closed his eyes to get his focus on the music back. The laundry could wait a little longer. But the beautiful rush of creativity that had previously caught him didn't seem to want to come back. Luka let out a helpless sigh and set his guitar aside, getting up to reach the source of the sound that disrupted his creative process.

Marinette had gotten so excited the first time she realized that their new washer also made sounds, and Luka still teased her for that sometimes. She would do a happy little dance whenever he heard the machine beeping, and as much as Luka loved to see her excited, he kinda hated that the stupid thing made sounds. What was the point of having a silent washing machine when it beeped when it was done?

So that you don't forget it, dummy.

The voice in his head sounded an awful lot like Marinette's, and it reminded him of his girlfriend getting up whenever that silly sound interrupted what they were doing. One moment, Marinette was resting her head on his shoulder, absently playing with Luka's hands as he hummed a soft melody in her ear; then, as soon as that damned washer beeped, she would abandon him.

“Can't it just wait?” he'd ask, and Marinette would laugh and tell him that they couldn't leave the clothes in the washing machine for long, “Otherwise they'll stink. I know, I know," he'd complain before lazily following her so that they could go back to what they were doing sooner.

“I swear, sometimes it looks like you love doing the laundry more than you love me.”

“You know that’s not true! I love doing you much more,” Marinette teased, making Luka struggle to keep his composure while he helped her hang the clothes, “You’ll be the death of me.”

Well, Marinette was going to kill him for real now.

Much to his horror, the first items he pulled out of the washing machine had turned a soft shade of pink.

“Shit,” Luka muttered under his breath. He pulled out more clothes, only to find that they all suffered from the same fate of the first ones. His t-shirts, his socks, his boxers were all pink.

How could that happen? He had paid attention this time, didn't he?

He sighed, tossing the now pink, old and ragged Jagged Stone t-shirt he didn't have the heart to throw away (much to Marinette’s annoyance) in the basket. At least he didn’t wash any of Marinette’s clothes, so he didn't have to worry about hearing her yell at him from another country for ruining her clothes as well. Maybe this time she would laugh when he’d tell her what happened to his clothes. Either way, there was nothing he could do about it now.

He pulled out the last pieces from the washing machine, sighing when he found what caused his clothes to turn pink. Marinette’s polka dotted slips were of an apparently harmless bright red despite having tinted everything around them. At least it wasn’t totally his fault, he could blame it on his girlfriend’s underwear, couldn't he?

Marinette would have called him stupid and it would have ended there.

He let out a helpless sigh, opting not to try to find a solution for turning half of his wardrobe pink and hanging the clothes to dry instead.

What was some more pink in his life, anyway? His girlfriend was the epitome of pink and pretty, and he loved her for that. Even if he had to convince her not to buy all the pink home appliances she could find for their new apartment. She would complain, and he would kiss her adorable little pouts away before they went on looking for what they needed to make their new apartment feel like home. Two months living together and he still felt a little thrill of excitement whenever he was reminded that he was sharing the roof with the love of his life.

He couldn't really complain about some more pink in his life. He loved it.

Marinette greeted Luka with the warmest smile when she found him waiting for her at the airport. She ran into his arms, Luka’s chuckle ringing in her ear as he caught her and she wrapped her arms around his neck. They shared a long, sweet kiss.

He shivered when Marinette pulled away, his eyes still half lidded as he settled her down. Marinette traced slow patterns on his chest, biting down a teasing smile when she looked up at him, “Is this new? Pink really suits you,” she said, making Luka smile before he leaned for another kiss.

When they got home, his lips left hers only for the amount of time they needed to catch their breath. Luka ignored Marinette's gasp as he let her suitcase fall ungraciously on the floor and led her to the couch. She giggled when she fell on top of him and Luka’s arm wrapped around her.

“I missed you so much,” Marinette whispered, her bluebell eyes locking into his. His free hand reached to thumb her cheekbone, “Me too,” Luka said slowly.

Marinette snuggled close to his chest, her hand absently drawing patterns on his arm while Luka left soft kisses on her head from time to time, his hand brushing through her hair. They stood in comfortable silence, basking in each other's presence after so long of not being able to, sharing soft kisses and quiet laughs.

Luka held her tighter, closing his eyes as he inhaled her sweet scent. Finally, their apartment felt like home again.

It was much later, when Marinette shifted and slipped away from his arms that Luka groaned, suddenly feeling cold. “Don’t go,” he whined, stretching his arms to grab her waist and pull her closer, “I didn't get enough of you.”

Marinette giggled, “When did you ever?” she asked rhetorically.

“Never?” Luka grinned proudly.

Marinette rolled her eyes, playfully slapping the hand resting on her hip.

“I really have to unpack,” she said, struggling to be serious when she saw Luka’s pout, “Stay with me, please?” he asked.

Marinette managed to shim out of his hold and blew him a kiss before disappearing behind the door. Luka let out a lovesick sigh, getting up from the couch to follow her into their bedroom.

“Thought you might need some help,” he said casually as Marinette opened her suitcase and took out her clothes.

“Just say you can’t stay away from me for one second,” Marinette teased.

“Can you blame me?” Luka shrugged, “I have the most amazing girl by my side, and I want to–

Luka interrupted himself mid-sentence, noticing how Marinette's expression shifted into a frown when she opened the closet.

She put her clothes away, only to rummage a bit longer in the closet to pull out two pink t-shirts from Luka's side of the closet.

She suppressed a giggle as she turned to look at his boyfriend, whose expression dropped.

“How come half of your closet has turned pink?” Marinette asked, letting the amused tone in her voice speak for her.

“I…” Luka rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Marinette raised an eyebrow as an invitation for him to confirm her suspicions, and Luka sighed in defeat.

“Fine, I messed up the laundry,” he could feel his cheeks grow warm at the confession, and he braced himself for any reaction from her.

“No way, I thought you got Rose so mad that she decided to colour all your clothes pink,” Marinette giggled, “Not that I'm complaining, you know how much I like pink, and it looks really good on you.”

“Oh really? You're not mad at me for messing up the laundry again?” he asked.

“It depends…” Marinette said, crossing her arms when she got up, “Tell me, Luka, did you ruin any of my clothes?”

Luka gulped, despite knowing he had nothing to worry about, Marinette looked quite menacing when things didn't go her way, “No.”

“Good,” Marinette smiled, satisfied with his answer, and closed the distance between them wrapping her arms around his neck, “I can fix these,” she said, eyeing at the clothes she dropped on the floor, but Luka shook his head.

“You don't have to.”

“What?” Marinette asked, frowning in confusion.

“I wanted to take care of it so you didn’t have too much stuff to do when you came back. I don't want you to add more work to your list because of me,” Luka's thumb grazed her cheek gently. “Besides,” he added, his hands moving to her hips to pull her closer, “I like pink.”

Marinette smirked, “Don’t you think it will ruin your image, rockstar ?”

Luka shook his head, his smile brushing her lips, “Screw image, pink is very rock and roll.”

“That's why I like it so much,” Marinette's soft giggle died in her mouth when he kissed her, and she tilted her head to welcome him fully, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

Her hands made their way down his chest, pulling at the hem of his t-shirt, “As much as I like pink…” she purred, moving her lips to his ear and making Luka shiver, “I think you'd look better with this off...”

Luka didn't find Marinette sleeping in the bed next to him when he woke up. He yawned and stretched, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before he got up and followed the unmistakable clattering of pans coming from the kitchen.

Marinette was standing near the stove, wearing nothing but the pink t-shirt he wore the previous night as she stirred something in a bowl.

He leaned against the door frame, not daring to disturb her and admiring her from his position instead. She was humming while she got the breakfast ready, a habit she picked from him, and Luka felt a familiar warmth spread in his chest. Sometimes he had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming, that Marinette was really there by his side and loved him just as much as he loved her. Her sole presence lit up the darkest of corners, and Luka was lucky enough to be able to watch her shine without her light hurting his eyes.

She squeaked when his hands squeezed her hips and he pulled her back against his chest, “Luka!” she scolded when he left a quick kiss on the exposed skin on her shoulder. He smiled and made her spin around so that she could face him, his ocean eyes bright with admiration.

“You’re so beautiful,” Luka whispered, his voice still groggy from sleep.

Marinette let out a small laugh and put some distance between them to look up at him, “My hair is a mess, and I haven’t even had my coffee yet. You're only saying this because I'm wearing your clothes,” she countered playfully.

Luka chuckled and leaned in, “Not true, I'm saying this because I love you,” he whispered before pecking her lips, “And also because pink looks great on you.”

He kissed her again, deeper this time, making Marinette sigh on his lips before she reluctantly pulled away, “I love you too, but could we not have burned pancakes for breakfast?”

#lukanette #lbsc 250 followers celebration #Endgame Lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng

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sprnklersplashes · 3 years ago

Text

songwriter!janis fic (unrequited crush, no-very-happy-ending)

also on ao3

It all started because she loved Taylor Swift when she was in middle school. Who is she kidding, she still loves Taylor Swift, but that’s where all this began. A middle school girl’s obsession with Taylor Swift. A confused, sad girl with a broken heart and smudged black eyeliner, finding refuge in lyrics about loneliness and anger and revenge. They became anthems for her, mantras to mutter when the warzone of middle school became too much for her.

“Someday, I’ll be living in a big old city, and all you’re ever gonna be is mean.”

“Cause I knew you were trouble when you walked in.”

“I can still see you, this ain’t the best view.”

It amazes her. It’s honestly as if Taylor Swift has managed to look into her life and given her a bundle of songs for whatever she needs. For when Regina has thrown her one too many snide looks, for when she’s standing at the door of North Shore High on her first day, for when she eats lunch alone, for when her mom is the best mom she could have asked for, for when she and Damian are lying on the grass in her backyard, staring up at the sky, laughing at absolutely nothing. The songs become the soundtrack to her life, the chords and those raw, honest lyrics an emotional outlet she so desperately craves. Taylor, and her songs, become a confidant, almost a close friend who always knows what to say.

With all that in mind, perhaps it was only a matter of time before she asks for a guitar for Christmas. She’s fourteen, braces and a slight lisp, and jumps up and down like a mad woman when she sees it under the tree.

She practices for three days straight, until her fingers bleed, but Should’ve Said No is the first song she learns off by heart. She yells the lyrics with maybe a little too much passion, but her parents applaud her nonetheless.

Like she said, that’s how it all started.

Because that same Christmas, she realises that screaming her feelings while playing guitar actually feels pretty cathartic. And that if it worked for Taylor Swift, it could work for her. So she writes stuff down, plays around with chords and strumming until the beat on the guitar matches the one in her head. She grabs a page and a pencil and writes and re-writes her innermost thoughts and feelings on the page until they sound the way she wants them to. She plays around with rhyme schemes and structure and everything she’s been taught about in English class, and a thrill runs through her as she does so. It’s the same breathless high she feels when she paints or draws, the rush that comes from creating something.

Her parents sit on the other side of her bedroom door, no doubt exchanging worried glances as she repeats the same verse, same chorus, with only a word changed. She watches them when they think she can’t see, peering through the crack in her door. The conclusion they seem to come to is ‘well, as coping mechanisms go, it’s pretty good, and she’s happy, so who are we to stop it?’.

It takes her four days to finish her first song. And it sucks. But she keeps it, writes down the lyrics and chords in one of the few empty notebooks she has, and there’s no going back from it now. She writes, and she writes, and she writes, near enough every day. She likes to think she gets better with each one. She learns more chords, buys a cheap ukulele the summer after freshman year, tries her hand at piano during a particularly difficult few weeks. She doesn’t plan on doing anything with them. They’re just her little pieces to hold on to. Her therapy sessions outside the carpeted office.

No-one knows about it. She has a reputation to keep up, after all. The loner-by-choice, too-cool-for-school, aloof art freak. Everyone has their roles to play in the ecosystem that is high school and, much as she hates the entire system, that is hers to play. And she plays it well, if she may say so. The fact that hardly anyone knows her past that facade suits her just fine. After all, if people think she doesn’t care, she can’t get hurt. No-one needs to know that Janis Sarkisian actually has feelings.

Even less need to know that she writes songs about said feelings.

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By the time she reaches her junior year, she’s onto her third notebook. She keeps them tucked away in her sock drawer, expertly hidden so only she can find them. Damian teases her about it, calling her “the protagonist of a Disney Channel Original Movie”. She just rolls her eyes and reminds him that “if either of us is gonna be Disney’s first openly gay character, it’ll be you”. He can’t argue with that.

It should be noted that when Janis said that no-one knows about her songwriting, Damian was the obvious exception. He found out just weeks after she started. There’s no keeping secrets from him.

Between all her notebooks, she’s written around forty songs.

Then she meets Cady Heron one day. The human embodiment of a labrador puppy, complete with wide, lost eyes. She likes her instantly, decides to take her under her wing because Lord knows the girl needs it. Cady’s smile is infectious, her laugh like a summer breeze. She has dimples and caramel-coloured hair and really likes maths.

She meets Cady on a Monday.

By that Saturday, song number 41-titled “Dimples and Curls” is more or less complete.

She plays it for Damian, hands only slightly shaking as she changes chords, the strumming short and upbeat, the melody strangely happy for such a bittersweet song.

He applauds her, but the subject of the song hangs in the air even after she’s played the last chord and the music fades. Unsaid, but not unknown. Just like her songwriting, Janis couldn’t keep a crush from Damian if she tried.

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“Hey, check it out.”

Cady drops onto the seat across from Janis, the whole table shaking as she does so. Like a small meteor just hit Earth. Janis looks up from her lunch, pretending like she had been doing her own thing and not watching the door until Cady came in. Pretending like her stomach doesn’t do little flips at the sight of her crossing the cafeteria. She pulls the flyer towards her and hums in amusement.

“The winter talent show,” she reads before chomping off a carrot stick. “Oh, is it that time of year already?”

“Seems like only yesterday we was welcoming the young’uns into this brave new world during the harvest season,” Damian sighs, putting on a delightfully over the top Southern Belle accent, no doubt influenced by their reading of Streetcar Named Desire in English class. Janis cackles, and nearly chokes on her lunch as she does.

“And now the cold winds of winter are descending upon us,” she replies, her accent equally heavy. She bats her eyes for good measure, because she can and because it makes Cady laugh. “Oh but I pray the children will survive this season, it is often rough for them.”

“I am never showing you two anything winter related ever again,” Cady says.

Janis just shrugs and runs her hand through her hair before her eyes go back to the flyer. Clearly, whatever sophomore they got to design it this year did their best; found the prettiest looking snowflakes on Google Images to put on the cartoon stage, decided to write in some swirling, slanted font rather than the start-studded block lettering they usually went for. It’s still the same as it is every year, meaning just as mockable, but she’ll give them points for tying.

“Well, anyone here going for it?” she asks. She looks from Damian to Cady and back again, a teasing smirk on her lips. “Last year and all that.”

“Not sure I can,” Damian sighs. “I mean, I’m booked up with Spelling Bee rehearsals and spring cabaret auditions happening next semester.” He drums his fingers against his throat. “Gotta give the little vocal chords some rest, you know?”

Janis’ response is to sing the lowest note she possibly can before turning to Cady and giving her a pointed look, the corner of her mouth quirked up.

“Who? Me?” Cady’s cheeks turned crimson and she shakes her head so much that the caramel curls bounced around her shoulders. “No way. Damian can take the stage, I’m fine with my calculators and textbooks.”

“You could always solve equations in front of everyone,” Janis says. “I could call out college-level questions from the audience and you solve them in under 30 seconds.”

“I think I’ll pass,” she giggles. She leans forward slightly, eyes glittering, and Janis does her best not to squirm. The effect Cady Heron’s eyes have on her should be studied by scientists. “What about you, Janis?”

“I don’t know.” She thinks back to when she helped on stage crew last year, as well as helping out (or taking over) with the set design. It had been fun, the kind of challenge she needed to keep her mind off the slowly-going-off-the-rails plan. And she was told it looked good on her college applications, because all people can think about apparently is college, college, college. “Maybe. They might need another genius stage manager.”

“And you’ll step in if they can’t find one?” She digs Damian in the ribs for that comment.

“But not performing?” Cady asks, and Janis freezes. Performing had never even crossed her mind before. She’s used to backstage, hell, she likes backstage. It’s not that she has stage fright or anything, and if she had, her stunt at Ms Norbury’s little healing session would have squished it. She had just never thought about it.

But Cady had, apparently.

“I-No, I-I don’t think so,” she stammers out. “Um, I might do backstage again, but not actually doing something, you know, talent related.” She bites her tongue and clamps her lips shut before anything else can come out.

“Okay then,” Cady replies slowly. She gets up from the table, her little empty water bottle in her hands. “I’m going to go for a refill, save my seat.”

“No problem,” Janis says, but Cady’s already jogging away.

She doesn’t know if it’s good or bad that Cady’s known her too long to think of her as cool, and so this kind of awkward babbling isn’t really surprising to her. Instead of thinking about it, she just sets her head on the table and lets Damian rub her back.

“You were nowhere near as bad as you think you were,” he assures her.

“Title of your sex tape,” comes her murmured reply. Damian chuckles and runs his fingers through her hair, like she’s his pet cat. It helps.

“So you’re definitely not going for the talent show then?” he asks.

Her first instinct is to say no, because of course she isn’t, because she never has before and she sees no point in breaking a three-year streak, but the answer catches in her throat. At the same time, something begins forming in her brain, pieces of a melody she’s already known, words filling in blank spots in her brain, and her fingers twitch involuntarily, playing the chords on an invisible guitar. Without a word, she grabs a notepad and pen from her bag and scribbles the words down before she forgets them, quickly becoming breathless just by sitting there. She forgets, for a moment, everything else, the talent show, Cady, even Damian next to her, and just revels in the task and the quick buzz she gets just from writing. Just like that she has one eye on the clock, itching to get home and put her notes into the rest of the song.

But with those notes came an idea, an idea so completely out of left field she almost laughs at it.

“Janis?” Damian asks, just slightly unnerved by her. If anyone else were at this table, even Cady (especially Cady), she would have had to excuse herself and run to the bathroom, or just hope the words stayed in her head long enough for her to get a quiet moment. “Did the Goddess of Music just possess you again?”

“Maybe,” is her response. He doesn’t know it, but she answered both the questions he asked in the past minute.

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She sits on her bed that night, her homework half-done and strewn across the desk, abandoned in favour of the guitar sitting in her lap and notebook open on her bed. She’s been working on his song for the better part of a week, inspiration and motivation seemingly striking and then fading whenever she gets a free moment. Abandoning it has crossed her mind-she’s no stranger to abandoning things that aren’t working-but for some reason she hasn’t quite been able to shake this particular song off.

Maybe it is Euterpe, the Goddess of Music, descending upon her because this song has to be finished, it has to be, Olympus willing it so.

Or maybe it’s because this song is one of the most personal things she’s ever written, a love letter she’ll never send, and the idea of it sitting unfinished drives her crazy.

She plays another chord and sings the line again, changing the ending slightly, and makes the adjustment in her notes.

She’s crazy. This is already crazy, her secret double life as a wannabe T-Swift, but now she’s gone beyond that. Thinking of actually playing it. On a stage. In front of people. She doesn’t care what people think of her, she stopped caring about that a long, long time ago, but holy shit what will people think of her after she does this? Life isn’t like the movies, she knows that much. It won’t be some pretty, softly-lit moment where the crowd sits with teary eyes, Cady runs onstage and kisses her and she’s offered a deal by some big shot producer, and they all live happily ever after the end. What could happen is people think she’s even more of a weirdo than they do now.

Or she gets tomatoes thrown at her head and she’s booed off the stage. That’s a possibility.

She calls Damian, because that’s the only way she sees out of her little thought cul-de-sac. She puts the phone on speaker and props it up against a pillow, keeping her hands free for her guitar and her pen. He picks up on the third ring, just as she’s strumming out a G chord.

“Oh, is someone prepping for her Grammy?” he asks. “You’re still taking me as your date, right?”

“Only if my dog can’t go,” she replies. She taps her nails against the wood, the rhythm too fast and frantic to just be a habit. Yes, she can tell Damian anything, and being nervous in front of him is laughable, but sometimes her body forgets that. “So, I was thinking about the talent show.”

“Oh? You’re going for stage crew again? Cool.”

“No-not exactly.” She knows he can’t see the smile creeping across her face, but she’d wager he can hear it through the phone. A small swarm of butterflies flutters in her chest, leaving her just slightly out of breath. “I… I. think I’m going to try performing in it.”

A burst of laughter comes through the phone, slightly tinged with static, and Janis wishes he were here so she could slap him. Even if it’s not malicious in intent at all, and she’s laughing right along with him. Slapping is kind of a love language for them.

“Okay, okay cool. What’re you going to do?”

“I’ll give you a hint,” she says, and then she plays the opening chords to her latest experiment. She doesn’t add in the lyrics, not yet. Still, she sits back and basks in his applause when she finishes, cackling into her hand. He might be one person, but he’s got enough enthusiasm to match a packed auditorium. “What do you think?”

“I’m into it,” he tells her. “So… that’s the one you’re doing?”

“Think so.” She tosses the pick between her fingers. Like he could feel her smile, she can feel his raised eyebrow through the phone, the elephant in the room poking her with its trunk. “Yes, I know.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You thought it,” she tells him, and he doesn’t deny it. She looks back over the lyrics she’s written and re-written. Despite some adjustments, it’s still in essence the same. Still about a girl with pretty hair who smells like vanilla and cinnamon, who has a boyfriend and is unknowingly breaking the heart of a girl with black eyeliner and paint stained fingers. Because her boyfriend is pretty and clean and smells like soap and can do math, and how is the poor art girl even meant to compare to that?

“Yes,” she says after a while. “It is about Cady.”

“Aw, my poor lovestruck songstress,” he sighs. He shifts then, and the air shifts with him. “You sure that’s the one you want to sing? I mean you have dozens of other non-Cady related songs. I’m sure Mr Duvall would love to hear Angry Teenage Lesbian Anthem.”

“First off, I gave that one a title, it’s called Shattered,” she reminds him. “And-” She freezes, the rest of her sentence catching in her throat. He’s right. She could perform one of her other songs, that are already finished and therefore removing the pressure to have this one finished, polished and stage-ready. And of course, it would mean she wouldn’t be standing in front of her entire grade and telling them all how badly she’s in love with her best friend. Showing her deepest secret to the people who have already driven her out of school once. It’s a far safer, potentially less traumatic option for her.

But…

“No,” she says. “I know it sounds crazy but I feel like… I feel like I need to do this.” She swallows thickly and picks softly at the guitar strings. “It’s like… like this way at least I’m telling her, you know? Even if she doesn’t know it.”

Of course, Damian gets it.

“That’s beautiful, babe,” he tells her. “So you’re actually doing this?”

“I’m actually doing this,” she replies firmly. “And tomorrow, I need you to make sure I don’t chicken out before I sign up.”

“Got it. I’ll just order you to do it as Senior Co-Chair of the Student Activities Committee.”

“That’s an abuse of power.”

“Then consider yourself abused baby.” He laughs and she laughs with him, and then she hears something on Damian’s end. “I have to go. A certain little sister of mine has a princess costume that needs attending to. See you later.”

“See you later,” she replies before he clicks off the call. She looks down at her paper, then at her guitar, and thinks about what she just committed to. “I’ve got some work to do.”

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The song goes through four rewrites in the weeks leading up to the talent show. The whole first verse is changed, the chorus scrapped and replaced with a new one, then that one is scrapped and she goes back to the old one. She sits hunched on her floor with a pencil in her mouth, wondering if what she’s written is too personal or not personal enough. If it’s too obvious that Cady, smart cookie that she is, will work it out and that’ll lead them down a new, scary path. She cuts some lyrics that give the game away, opting to replace one about love for numbers with love for learning, because that opens up the pool to half their grade. She writes about Cady’s blue eyes rather than specifically those double dimples that make her melt. Maybe she’s compromising her artistic vision, but it might be worth it if it’ll keep her crush a secret. She keeps the old lyrics tucked in the back of her notebook, just to have them.

Meanwhile, she’s also dealing with the fact that people know she has signed up for the talent show. That Miss Too Cool For School Loner Art Freak Janis is actually performing at a school event. And she doesn’t even get extra credit for it. They’re surprised, and curious, and none more so than Cady. The other girl appears at her side almost instantly after first period, skinny little arms wrapped around her bicep and blue eyes alight.

Oh, the things those eyes do to her.

“Janis!” she squeaks. “I saw-on the sign up sheet-your name! Oh my God, is this a joke? Did Damian put you up to it?”

“No, no, I signed up of my own accord,” Janis tells her. That only makes Cady bounce more, ponytail bobbing up and down.

“Oh wow, that’s amazing!” she says. She stops then, her mouth freezing in its place and her cheeks turning pink. Slowly, she comes down to Earth, like a balloon that had the air let out of it. Janis can almost hear the wheeze. “I mean um, it’s pretty cool, I guess.”

“It’s pretty grool,” Janis replies, and just like that Cady bounces back up again.

“Oh my gosh, what are you going to do?” she asks. “Or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“You think I have some secret knife-throwing talent?” she grins. She hesitates for a moment, looking down at Cady’s excited face, because even if this isn’t telling her… it’s telling her. “I’m… I’m going to sing.” She pulls on the strap of her backpack and avoids Cady’s eyes. “Something I wrote.”

“Okay,” Cady says. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

“Hey!” she laughs. “I can write stuff. I can be deep.”

“Oh, I have no doubt about it,” Cady says, bumping her arm against Janis’. “But for real, Janis, I can’t wait to see it. I know you’ll be amazing.”

Warmth spreads across her pale cheeks, a pink blush no doubt colouring her face, and she somehow manages to choke out a “thanks” as her brain turns to static. Her only thought is ‘Cady thinks I’m going to be good’, and it’s written in glitter pen across her brain.

“This is going to be great,” she goes on. “Oh, wait until I tell Aaron. He’s got a break in his schedule that week so he’s coming up to see the talent show! Isn’t that great?”

And just like that, Janis’ good mood falls. Her face stays the same, because she’s trained to do it, but everything behind it crumbles.

“Yeah, that’s great,” she replies. Cady squeezes her hand, oblivious, and drags her along the hallway, chatting away about some lion documentary she had watched last night.

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She finishes the song that night. She arrives home with a heavy chest, so full of complicated, messy feelings, and her conversation with Cady still so fresh in her mind, her ears still ringing from the emotional whiplash. Her parents barely get a ‘hello’ as she enters and bolts up to her room, her hands shaking, the thoughts swirling around her brain desperate to be let out.

And let them out she does. She writes so quickly they look more like smudges than words, her fingers flying over rapidly changing chords, her voice broken and panting as she sings. The words almost write themselves, like the song has taken on a life of its own and she’s just along for the ride. She barely remembers to pause, to breathe, so wrapped up in the storm she’s created with just her guitar and pen.

It’s only when she finishes and falls back on her bed that she notices the tears in her eyes. She blinks them away and pulls herself up, her notebook in her hand. It’s done. The perfect blend of her own honest feelings and just enough smokescreen to keep people from knowing who it’s really about.

There’s no backing out now, she thinks. Her stomach drops, like she’s on the top of a roller coaster about to go down. A laugh bubbles up in her throat and leaves her breathless, her head spinning while she’s still laying there.

If holy shit were am adjective, she'd use it to describe how she feels. Because holy shit.

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Being backstage when she’s not on crew is a strange experience. She stands with her guitar slung around her body, in the middle of a current of students moving around her, half with the clunky microphones and walkie-talkies she’s used so many times before. She asks five of them if she can do anything to help-because they’re her people and she needs to do something to occupy her time-until she finally takes the hint and leaves them to it. Stagehands are the most efficient parts of any production, as she told Damian once. They’re a well-oiled machine at this point.

“Yo!” For a second, Janis thinks she imagined the whisper, just one in a jumble of backstage noises, until Damian appears at her side. A tiny ‘shit’ escapes her mouth, her body jerking. Barely anyone bats an eye at her, except him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you.”

“Don’t worry. I think at this point a small breeze could knock into me and I’d crumble.”

“The great Janis Sarkisian gets nervous?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

“Only when she’s doing something incredibly personal and scary in front of her entire grade,” she whispers back. She swallows past the lump in her throat. “Aside from that I’m a beacon of confidence and unshakable will.”

“Hey.” He taps his knuckles against hers. “Remember how scared you were at Norbury’s assembly?”

“You mean after I had my picture all over the school with the d-slur written underneath it?” she mutters. “Yeah, I was shitting myself.”

“And yet, look what you did there,” he reminds her. “You were amazing. And you’re going to be amazing here too. Once you get on that stage, all those butterflies are going to make you fly, kid.”

She smiles, her heart warm, and pressed her face into the crook of Damian’s neck.

She doesn’t know how she got so lucky to have him, but she knows better than to tempt fate.

“Janis Sarkisian?” She lifts her head to find a freshman girl with a headset around her neck looking at her. “You’re up next.”

“Okay.” It’s only now she becomes aware that the last minute of Fairytale Of New York is playing, the notes will soon fade out, and that’s her cue. She turns to Damian and lets him straighten her black cardigan and fiddle with the collar of her shirt. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it.” He drops a whisper of a kiss to her nose. “But good luck.”

She holds her half-heart necklace as he goes, the twin to the one around his neck. It’s as close as she can get to having him with her. Her chest tightens as she makes her way to the stage and she tries to breathe through it, because the next thign she knows, Mr Duvall is announcing her name, and she’s being greeted by a blinding spotlight that thankfully obscures most of her peers’ faces.

“Uh, hi,” she says into the microphone placed out for her. It’s just people , she reminds herself. Somewhere in that crowd, second row, seat 14, is Damian, and she breathes easier. And next to him is Cady, the girl this song is about, and for some reason that straightens her spine and irons out the shaking in her voice. She takes the pick out of its holder and tosses her hair back. “This is a song I wrote about being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back.” She blinks and hopes no-one sees the tears in her eyes. “So sing along if you get into it, because we all know it’s a shitty ass feeling.”

She plays the first chord, and then any and all doubts she had about this flee her. As cliche as it sounds, the song takes over her, and she blows through the nerves in the first verse. The experience becomes cathartic instead, like releasing a pressure valve on her soul. Even with the little diversions she threw in, she hasn’t felt this open and god damn free since last year, paraded on her peers’ shoulders with both middle fingers up. Except now she’s not flipping anyone off, or proving a point, she’s just finally telling someone how she feels, and holy shit, it’s amazing. Whatever the aftermath of this is, she won’t care, it’s worth it just for this feeling.

As she sings the last word, and that final note rings in the auditorium, her hands are shaking, her cheeks wet with tears and her hair sticky with sweat. She touches beneath her eye and her fingers come away stained black. She hasn’t cried in front of people since middle school. She doesn’t care.

The cheers of her classmates ring in her ears, Damian’s whooping the loudest of all, and as she takes her bow, she hopes she’ll remember this moment for a long time.

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“Oh my God!” she’s barely into the auditorium when Cady launches herself at her, arms wrapped around her neck and legs circling her waist. Janis nearly topples over, digging her back leg into the ground just in time, and hugs Cady with the same ferocity. “You were amazing!” she yells into her shoulder, the sound muffled by Janis’ hair.

“Really?”

“Absolutely.” She sets Cady down, but the other girl keeps a tight grip on both her arms. Janis wonders if it’s to keep herself from flying away, given the amount of bouncing up and down she’s doing. “I can’t believe you wrote that! It was so good! You need to record it, Jan. Do you have any other songs?”

“Just a few,” she says. “And I don’t know if I’m in the business of making an album any time soon.” She swings her guitar case a little. “This might have been a one-time thing.”

“Well, even if it was, it was awesome,” she says.

“Thank you, Caddy,” Janis replies. “That means a lot.”

Her mouth runs dry as Cady smiles, all baby pink lipgloss and sparkling eyes and full cheeks. If this were a movie, she thinks, this would be the part where they kiss. No need for talking, or an explanation. Because Cady would have just known. The music would turn soft and twinkly, and the lighting would match it and it would look like they’re in a dream and they’d just kiss, and it will fix all of Janis’ problems. Maybe a single tear will run down her cheek. And then they’ll run off into their new lives as the end credits roll.

How sweet that would be.

But her life isn’t a movie. If she wants anything, she has to go for it herself.

And that includes-

“Caddy.” Her name is delicate on her lips, handled with care. Cady looks at her, giving a simple ‘mm-hm’ in response, and Janis’ heart beats out of control. “That song I just sang, it-”

“Hey, guys.”

Also if this was a movie, Cady’s sweet, lovely, nice boyfriend would not be barging in right now. He’d either be a douchebag who she doesn’t feel bad about hurting, or he’d be nonexistent.

Unfortunately, this is not a movie, and Aaron Samuels exists and is the human equivalent of a squishmallow.

“Hey Aaron.” He slings his arm around Cady’s shoulders, and she leans into his touch almost instinctively. “Janis, you were great up there. I didn’t know you wrote songs.”

“It’s a bit of a new hobby,” she says, her voice hoarse. She clears her throat, and finds a bottle of water being handed to-thrown at-her.

“Hydrate those chords,” is Damian’s greeting.

“This is what I get for being friends with a theatre kid,” she sighs before she takes a drink. She hadn’t realised how dry her throat was until now.

“Okay, so we’re all going for pancakes,” Aaron says. “I take it you two are coming?”

“How can I say no to pancakes?” Janis asks. “Uh, you guys go ahead, I have to get my stuff from the green room.”

“Okay, we’ll wait for you,” Cady says. “Aaron brought his car so he can drive us.”

“Grool.” Cady and Aaron turn around together, Aaron spinning his eyes around his finger and Cady lacing her fingers through his, talking about something she can’t hear. It’s like watching them through a sheet of glass.

Not a movie. Not unless it’s one of those really, really sad movies. Sad homophobic movies.

“You okay?” Damian asks. She snorts at the question. Nothing has changed, so of course she’s okay. But then, nothing has changed, so she’s not really okay.

“I did it,” she sighs. “It’s out there. I told her, unofficially. Whether or not she works it out…” She runs her hand through her tangled hair. “That’s something else entirely.” Damian hums in agreement, a sympathetic look on his face that soon morphs into a grin.

“Hey,” he says. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks Mom.” They snort, Janis caught between a laugh and a sob, and squeezes Damian’s hand. She’s not optimistic about any romance in her future, at least where Cady is concerned. She and Aaron are still rock-solid and she’s happy for them, whenever she isn’t angsting about it. It’s a weird combination to have.

And at least she’s done this now. Despite a future for her and Cady not being in the cards for now, she’s glad she did it. The secret isn’t out, not entirely. Just written on the walls in invisible ink.

“Come on,” she tells Damian. “I actually do have to get my bag, and you can use this as an opportunity to double check the ghost light is on.”

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Cady and Aaron keep their promise and wait for them, waving off their apologies as they jog across the parking lot. Cady lets Damian take the front seat with Aaron and slides into the back with Janis instead. Janis frowns, confused as to why she isn’t taking her normal seat up front, and Cady rolls her eyes.

“There was a draw on the way here, and we lost,” she explains. “And now Damian has control of the aux chord,” She gestures with her head to the passenger seat, and Janis turns just in time to see him open his Spotify and scroll through his playlists. As the opening notes to Waving Through A Window fill the car, it’s met with three loud groans. Damian only turns it up louder, and adds in his own backing vocals.

“So, that song you sang,” Cady asks, leaning back in the seat. “Was it about anyone in particular?”

Janis looks down, her hands pressed together in her lap. If this is the moment the universe decided to give her, it’s a really terrible moment. Not only is Cady’s whole boyfriend sitting an arm’s length away from her, but she left her nerve back in the auditorium. Clearly, her and fate aren’t on each other’s wavelength.

“You wouldn’t know her,” she says. “She doesn't even go here.”

“Oh,” Cady replies. Her face falls, but she’s not too put out by it. Why would she be? She nudges Janis’ shoulder, a proud smile on her face, and squeezes Janis’ hand. “Well, if she has someone like you into her and she hasn’t taken the chance yet, then she doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

Janis only thanks her, and quickly changes the subject.

Someday she might tell her for real, but for now she'll stick to the songs.

#mean girls broadway #mean girls fanfic #cadnis #janis sarkisian #cady heron #cadnis ff #cady x janis #space safari #mean girls musical

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slightlyrebelliouswriter23 · 5 years ago

Text

Fine Line | Jurdan Quarantine AU

Written for Jurdan Week 2020, hosted by @jurdannet | Day 4- Song Crossover (Adore You by Harry Styles requested by @mysweetvilllain )

Chapter Rating: M

CW: mature themes, explicit descriptions, vulgar language, eventual explicit content.

Summary: Two vindictive assholes. One shitty apartment. And a vow to get under each other’s skin. Stuck in hate together twenty-four-seven, this can only end in a crime of passion.

Next Chapter | Fine Line Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3

Chapter 1- Adore You (Verse 1)

[Cardan POV]

The minute I walk into the kitchen, I know I’m fucked.

She’s sitting there on one of my bar stools, at my island counter, eating my strawberries straight out of the plastic container. I say “my” because I’m still in denial that I have to share this shit-hole with anyone. Especially her.

When I put the ad up online, I was skint and desperate. I would’ve taken anyone short of a serial killer, really, but I was hoping for normal. Or at the very least, boring. It’s just my luck that the only person who responded to the ad was someone so insufferable.

We were civil with each other for all of a day. Three weeks had me almost driven to moving out. Me. Moving out of my own damn apartment because even that is easier than living with Jude Duarte.

That’s when corona hit, so I guess I’m stuck.

It’s been a fortnight of isolation. Putting up with her unmitigated bullshit. Her ceaseless presence and mulish disposition. Our constant butting heads.

On a good day, I give myself over to the ashen taste of resignation. On the bad ones, I want to throw myself down the stairs just so I can spend the night in hospital.

Anyways, I’m fucked because my wretched flatmate is sitting there in her baggy black sweatpants and oversized hoodie. Her knees are tucked up to her chest, giving me a plain view of those stupid rainbow socks she’s always wearing. Her hair is a mess on top of her head. Everything about her sets off a tick in my jaw.

Except the way she eats strawberries.

Her full pink lips wrap around one now and—fucking hell. I swear my cock twitches. When she sinks her teeth in, those lips come away red-stained and glistening. A line of juice dribbles down her chin as she chews. Then, she pops the stem into her mouth and eats that, too.

I find myself imagining her on her knees, strawberry lips wrapped around something else of mine. The way the back of her throat would feel as I ram into her mouth—

I blink. My lip curls. I need coffee, and maybe a cold shower.

The former is closest, so I stop standing in the doorway like the twat that I am, and walk into the kitchen. Thankfully, she’s got earphones in and is so immersed in whatever the fuck she does on her laptop all day that she hasn’t noticed my blatant ogling.

If she notices me at all, she doesn’t acknowledge it.

Good. It’s better this way. The less we talk the less we end up screaming at each other. It’s only happened twice. The neighbors came round both times.

I pull a mug and the instant coffee down from a shelf.

It irks me. Just last night, I was standing in this very spot, doing everything in my power not to lose my shit after finding a pile of her dirty dishes in the sink. For the third time this week. She always says “they’re soaking”, and I always end up doing them later anyway, because I can’t stand the mess.

She does things like that a lot. Dishes and crumbs and wrappers. Stealing my food. A week ago I found a pizza crust jammed in between the cushions of the sofa. She denies all accountability, of course.

Not to mention, she sets her alarms for the ass crack of dawn. She’s such a heavy sleeper that I’m invariably wide awake well before she is, listening to the incessant shrill of her phone through the walls as she hits snooze, over and over.

I’m certainly not without my faults, of course. I know she hates me just as much as I hate her. She’s told me as much. Which is why I’m miffed that suddenly, without any warning, I want to fuck her into the kitchen counter.

There’s a spoon in the drying rack and I use it to stir my coffee.

Nicasia hated me, I think to myself. She loved me once, but she hated me for a while before she did anything about it. Then, I stop. Because I don’t want to uncork that bottle today. Point is, maybe it’s not completely out of left field. To want someone right when they’re giving you the very least of their attention.

I tap the spoon against the lip of my mug. Usually, I’d retreat back to my bedroom at this point. Instead, I throw the spoon in the sink and turn around to lean against the counter.

She’s still sitting at the island, honed in on her computer. I can hear the thin, metallic wail of a guitar coming from her earphones. She bobs her head slightly to the beat.

It’s not as if she isn’t attractive. In her own, unique way.

She’s strong. If I didn’t hear her pummeling that blasted punching bag she’s got hanging in her room every night, I’d have known she boxed just by the way she looks. She’s got a fighter’s build about her. It lives in her shoulders, in the barrel of her chest. As if every line of her was made bold and unyielding. With intention.

Again, I have to stop my own wandering thoughts. I’m starting to wonder if maybe my dead end job that has me editing bad romance novels for a living is starting to go to my head.

It pays the bills until it doesn’t. And then it rots my brain. Maybe I should quit.

Still, I tell myself it’s the quarantine talking. That if I wasn’t trapped in here with her, I wouldn’t find anything about her attractive. That I’d probably be willing to whore myself out for one cigarette right about now. And I don’t even smoke.

But then she looks up at me, mid-bite. Those honey-brown eyes are wild. They threaten to cut straight through me. She squints, accusatory. Chews her bite, slow. Swallows.

My mouth goes dry as the fucking Sahara.

“What are you staring at?” she demands, glare blazing.

Apparently, I’m in the mood to walk that fire, because I take a sip of my coffee and say, smug as I can, “You.”

Sometimes, it’s better to be completely honest with Jude. The truth always seems to appall her far more than any lie ever could. As if she expects everyone to be deceiving. Or maybe it’s just that my truths are so outrageous to her that she doesn’t believe them.

I wouldn’t blame her there. I can hardly admit to this truth, myself. Whether she believes me or not, though, it gets under her skin.

“Right,” she scoffs. “Is it because I’m pretty? Is it because you like me so much?” She bats her lashes at me, mocking. I am stunned by the fact that, for a moment, I wish it was real. That I’d gladly lose myself in that look if it came from her eyes in earnest.

Then I shake my head. I sound like the biggest shit-for-brains. It’ll take more than a few eyelash flutters to make me surrender.

“Oh, no,” I say, trying to match her taunting tone, “I don’t like you. I adore you.”

That makes Jude roll her eyes. “Please,” she says. “You’re probably plotting ways to stick me in my sleep or something. Fucking psychopath.”

It’s that last part that makes me take a step toward the island, lean forward to rest my elbows on the counter so I’m nearly in her space. She doesn’t draw back. Just gives me a scathing look from over the top of her screen.

“If I’m ever depraved enough to stick you,” I tell her, smirking, “I guarantee you won’t be sleeping, love.” Which may come off as anything from perverted to downright murderous, but I don’t care. The face she makes is worth it.

It’s all jaw dropped, vicious gaze, blush creeping into her cheeks like red smoke. I’ve never challenged her before. It makes her look at me like she despises me. Like the only thing she’ll ever do is despise me. I don’t know why that eggs me on, but it does.

“Would you look at that,” I hum, “You’ve got the face about right, too.”

Her nostrils flare. Jaw sets. There’s a lovely shade of puce coming up on her already heated cheeks. She’s absolutely livid, and I can taste it in the air between us. It’s like static on my tongue.

That’s when something cold and slimy hits me dead between the eyes. Jude’s half-eaten strawberry plops to the counter. I’m so surprised I almost laugh.

“You’re disgusting,” she says with as much derision as I feel coursing through me.

Part of me wants to give into that anger. Sling a string of curses at her. Throw the strawberry right back in her face. Those things won’t annoy her half as much as what I actually do.

Keeping an unbothered expression, I pluck the strawberry off the countertop and pop it right into my mouth. Stem and all. I lick my fingers for good measure. All while keeping direct eye contact with the little menace sitting across from me. Her gaze flits to my lips. So I swipe my tongue over them. She blinks.

“Delicious,” I say.

She looks just the right amount of scandalised for me to straighten, take my coffee back up in one hand, and saunter out of the kitchen. I don’t say anything about the strawberries. Or how stealing isn’t a very good exercise in courtesy.

We’ve never been courteous with one another, anyway.

When I’m back in my room I lean against the closed door and scrub a hand over my face. My heartbeat is raging since I did not.

Sometimes, I think the irritating things she does are all on purpose. Just to get under my skin. I rarely give her the satisfaction of knowing it works, but I don’t like letting her trample all over me, either. It gives me an oily feeling. Like I’m back to being under someone else’s thumb, and I hate it.

But that—whatever that was—felt more like fighting back than I ever thought I’d have the balls to do. I feel more alive now than I’ve felt in months.

Maybe that makes me a bastard. C’est la fucking vie.

I start shucking off my clothes, throwing them into the hamper in the corner, one by one. My bedroom is mercifully en suite. If I wanted to, I could live in here for days at a time without leaving.

I don’t know why I ever bother.

I go into the bathroom and turn on the shower. As I stand there under the cold stream, I think about how dangerous it is, this game I’ve entered. Flirting with Jude to get a rise out of her is one thing. That’s clear cut. A direct retaliation.

It’s another thing entirely if part of why I’m doing it is to take the edge off of my own perversions. I mean, what kind of sick fuck has sex fantasies about someone they hate? Someone they’re stuck in isolation with, twenty-four-seven, for the foreseeable future? Someone who hates their guts, too, and could probably easily take them out if it came to physical blows?

I guess that sick fuck would be me.

It’s a fine line to walk but there’s no turning back. I’ve already begun.

☽☽☽☽☽

AN: So I guess I’m hopping on the quarantine fic bandwagon 😅 this is definitely not what I expected to come out of this song crossover prompt, but I kind of like it? It’s (very loosely) based off of Adore You by Harry Styles- the threads are there if you look for them 😉

I’m planning on making this a 12 part series (one chapter for each song on Fine Line) so if you’d like to be added to the tag list for this, or to my Jurdan Forever tag list, let me know in the comments/my messages/inbox and I’d be happy to add you!

-Em 🖤💫

Title Inspo: Fine Line (album) by Harry Styles, Adore You (song) by Harry Styles

Tag List: @velarhysismine @knifewifejude @the-mithridatism-of-jude-duarte @clockworkgraystairs @thesirenwashere @judexcardanxgreenbriar @nite0wl29 @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @whocares-idont @babycardan @mysweetvilllain @aesthetics-11 @storiesandschemes @jurdanhell @poeticbrownmermaid @thechainofiron @random-llama-socks @villanellevi @lady-thea-of-narnia @b00kworm @flowersinvegas @vanessa172003 @cardanstrickytail @queen-of-glass @doingmyrainbow

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