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racergirl-112 · 3 months ago

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Push Me Over - Chapter 4: So It Goes...

18++++++***** MDNI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WARNINGS: SMUT. Mentions of death. P n V, unprotected (wrap it up folks). Oral receiving, fingering. but really this is the chapter you've been waiting for. 😘🥵🥵 *** I wrote this chapter to the song So it Goes by Taylor Swift**

(not my picture. Photo cred: Pinterest)

Dani got home a little later. She spent the night tossing and turning, thinking about Hugh and the super hot kiss they shared. The words he said to her, making her mind race. He had asked her to maybe get coffee and maybe if they did that and she got to know him, it would help get him out of her mind. She decided she was going to ask him that day.

After the grueling day of filming they had, Dani saw Hugh walking back to his trailer and decided it was now or never.

“Hugh,” she called out. He turned around, a smile crossing his face.

“What’s up darlin’?” he asked.

“Would you like to get coffee with me?”

“When?” he asked.

“Now? Or whenever you’re done?” she replied.

“Let me get changed.”

“Cool, I’ll be in my trailer.”

As she waited for Hugh in her trailer, scrolling her phone, her heart began to race. It was going to be just the two of them. It’s fine. You’re just co-stars, maybe potential friends. Get him out of your system, he’s old enough to be your father. She was lost in her overthinking when there was a knock on her trailer door.

“Come in,” she said, as the door began to swing open. Hugh walked in, wearing his signature tight black t-shirt and jeans. Goddammit he’s fine.

“Hi darlin’. Are you ready?” he asked. Dani nodded. They began to walk over to where their cars were parked. “Want me to drive?”

“That’s fine,” she answered. A smile crossed his face as he opened the passenger door for her. She had a surprised look on her face when he got in the car.

“What’s the look for?” he asked with a laugh.

“I’ve never had a guy do that for me before and I’m from the South,” she replied. Hugh started up the car as they took off.

“Well, sounds like you haven’t been around real gentlemen.” The comment took Dani aback, but it made her smile as they looked for a coffee shop.

A little while later, they found a perfect little coffee shop out of the way as they sat there together.

“Other than you being extremely feisty and can fucking sing, tell me more about yourself,” Hugh started. Dani looked taken aback, but she was ready. She took a sip of her latte and began talking.

“Well, I’m originally from Georgia. My real name is Danielle Olivia James-Levy, but because of the Levy acting family, I chose to go by Danielle James, my mother’s maiden name. I went to school for Business, thinking I wasn’t going to go into the family business, but fell in love with theater when I was there and got a dual major.”

“Wow, beautiful and smart. I knew you acted, but I didn’t know you did theater. Is that where the singing comes from?,” Hugh asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, it’s something I don’t get to do a whole lot of. I would do small shows in between acting gigs, while working a real job, until something happened. The singing thing on the other hand, that’s something I’ve done since I was kid. I’d walk around singing, enough for everyone to tell me to shut up once in a while.” She looked over at Hugh who couldn’t take his eyes off of her. “So, enough about me. How about you?”

He raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. “Well, there isn’t too much about me that you can’t find online. Well, other than what I mentioned to you the other day.”

“I’m sorry you’re going through that. Do you want to talk about it?” Dani asked. Hugh’s eyes got soft, almost like sadness came through them.

“We don’t have to sweetheart,” he started.

“You listened to me and I promised you I’d listen,” a warm smile crossed her face.

“Well, my ex-wife and I had been married for almost 27 years. We met back on a TV show in Australia. She was older and I thought she was out of my league, but it worked out. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to have biological children of our own, but we adopted two wonderful kids. Now that the kids are older and have their own lives, I guess during Covid, we were spending so much time together, it felt more like a friendship than a marriage and got worse during the writer’s strike. We did everything we could to save it, but we both felt like the relationship had run its course. It just feels weird.”

“Like you’ve been in the relationship so long, you don’t know where to go next. I mean I’ve had my share of relationships, but nothing of that caliber. I commend you for making a relationship work in Hollywood, especially when you’re as big a star as you are.You just don’t see that anymore.” “That’s very sweet,” he answered. “I’m curious about something you didn’t mention. Shawn is your Uncle, how’s the relation work?”

Dani took a long sip of her latte before beginning. “Well, My dad was Shawn’s older brother, but passed away in a car accident when I was 25. It was something we asked to keep out of the public and the reason I shelved my dreams for a while. My mom still lives in Georgia with her new husband, finally happy again.” She looked over at him and he had a surprised look on his face.

His hand reached across the table, grabbing hers. “I’m sorry about you dad, sweetheart. I lost mine in 2020, his eyes meeting hers. The more she was around this man, she was finding it harder to not want to be with him. Fuck the age difference.

“Thank you. I’m sorry about your dad too,” she replied as he squeezed her hand. She kept looking over at him, not being able to take her eyes off of the gorgeous man in front of her and it looked like he was on the same page. “I guess it's getting late.”

He nodded as they left the cafe and got into his car. He opened her door for her as he took off. He turned on some music and So it Goes… by Taylor Swift began to drift through the radio. She glanced over at Hugh driving and felt her heart racing, not knowing what was going to happen next. He caught her stare as his hand reached over and found her leg. They stopped at a red light as Dani went for it.

“Hugh,” she breathed, coming over the center console and kissing him. He reciprocated, but then the light changed. “I’m sorry…,” she started. Before she could get the words out, he pulled the car over in a dark alley as he came over the center console and kissed her. Their lips and tongues in a hot tangled mess. Dani reached for anything she could, to be closer to this man. He pulled back and cupped her face.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop myself and I won’t unless you want me to,” he started.

“Your place or mine?” Dani breathed. Hugh drove to his flat immediately.

They all but kicked down the door to his flat as they stayed intertwined. The second the door shut behind them, Hugh picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. Her legs wrapped around his waist, as his hands cupped her ass, their kissing, feverish.

As they fell on the bed, he braced himself above her, getting lost in her green eyes. “Are you sure about this?” he asked. She nodded her head as she sat up and yanked her shirt over her head followed by her bra and threw them on the floor. He followed suit and his shirt ended up in the pile on the floor. He went for the waistband of her leggings, slowly pulling them down with her panties. “Fuck,” he groaned, taking in the naked woman in his bed.

“Pants off, Jackman,” she ordered, a smirk on her face.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, undoing his belt, and kicking off his pants and boxers, crawling over her.

Dani propped herself up on her elbows and looked at the man in front of her. He may be 55 years old, but he was built like a fucking god. From the way his muscles bulged to the way his v-line was sculpted. Then she caught sight of the happy trail of hair that led to his perfect dick. God he was huge.

He began kissing her lips before moving to her neck, making her arch into him. He liked her reaction as he continued down her body, to her breasts as he circled each peak with his tongue, while never breaking eye contact.

“Fuck,” she moaned. He added to her pleasure as she felt the pad of his finger on her clit.

“Sweetheart, so wet for me,” he groaned, moving down her body and to her pussy. His tongue began soft strokes, before he plugged right in. She cried out at that feeling as she grabbed for his hair as he pulled her down to the end of the bed to devour her even more. The feeling of his facial hair added to the pleasure.

This man has experience.

“I can’t…,” she cried out, letting her orgasm go.

“God, you taste so good sweetheart,” he replied, wiping her juices from his beard and moving back over her. He stilled above her for a moment, realizing something. “Princess, I wasn’t planning on sex tonight, so I’m not prepared.”

“I’m on birth control, Hugh. I need you too much to stop now,” Dani answered, pulling him down to her as their lips locked and she tasted herself on him. His long fingers found her soaking core as he began pumping just enough to get her honey on him as he stroked it down his cock. He grabbed ahold of himself as he teased her with his tip at her entrance.

“You ready sweetheart?” he asked. Dani nodded as he began to push himself inside. He stilled for a moment at how tight she was and that if he began to move, he might just bust.

“Move, please,” she begged. His hips began to move slowly, savoring every moment with Dani. The hold this woman had on him in a short amount of time was baffling, but god, did he feel something with her. Her lips on his, her nails digging into his back, the way she molded to him.

Dani’s hip movements began to meet his own and he felt like he might be a goner. He grabbed her hands with his, interlacing their fingers, pressing them into the mattress sending them both spirling and fast. “God sweetheart, you are fucking perfect,” he said, kissing her.

Her heart began to race again as electricity shot through her body at his words and his movements as she clenched down on him and hard. He wanted to be as close to her as possible as his forehead touched hers as he knew he was done for.

“Fuck,” he groaned, as he chased his own release, white-hot ropes, coating her insides. He finished as he stayed locked on her, both panting and sweaty. The connection between the two of them, intensifying. He pulled out as their releases flooded out of Dani, turning Hugh on even more. He got out of bed to his bathroom to clean up and brought her back a towel.

“Sorry, the old man hasn’t done this in a while, so I wasn’t prepared,” he said with a laugh, getting back in bed.

“You’re fine,” she replied.

“Come here,” he said, offering his arm. Dani moved over and cuddled into him as he kissed her forehead. “Did the old man do ok?” he asked.

“More than ok. You were fucking phenominal,” she replied, drawing circles on his chest and feeling across his toned abs. “Can I tell you something?” He raised an eyebrow at her question.

“Sure, sweetheart.”

“First of all, stop calling yourself old man. Second, I may have known what you looked like from your movies, but until I saw you at dinner, I never knew how attracted I was to you. I went home that night and the night after you came to my trailer and got myself off to the thoughts of you.”

Hugh began stroking her hair. “Well, sweetheart, that’s definitely not what I thought you were going to say, but since the night of the dinner, I can’t be in a room and not think about the bad things I want to do to you.”

“So, it sounds like we’re on the same page,” she answered, putting her head on his chest.

“Yes sweetheart, it does,” he answered. Hugh interlaced their hands, wrapping his arms tighter around her, knowing that with Dani he felt a new chapter of happiness.

#hugh jackman #daddy k!nk #fanfic #hugh jackman smut #deadpool x wolverine #hugh jackman fanfic #logan wolverine smut #older guys #deadpool #logan howlett #james logan howlett #deadpool 3 #logan #deadpool vs wolverine #deadpool wolverine

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i-am-still-bb · 1 year ago

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No. 20

“People don’t change people, time does.” | Blanket | Found Family | “You will regret touching them.”

Pairing: Fili/Kili Rating: T Universe: Fast Car (formerly Dead Batteries) Words: 2030

A/N: This followed the original work (Dead Batteries)

Fili drove straight back to the clubhouse after he left Kili on the side of the highway waiting for a tow truck. A tow truck that would take Kili to his parent’s house. He stopped himself. It was Kili’s house.

Kili’s house.

He could not just go home after learning that information. If he went home he might download social media apps and search for Kili to see what he had been up to all these years. Something that Fili had consciously stopped himself several times over the years. It had been harder when he was younger and social media was new and everyone was on there posting photos of their shoes, their car, their lunch, their snack, their pet, any unhinged thing that occurred to them. And they attached actual thoughts or stories to those pictures, not just inspiration quotes that were taken straight from Pinterest or copied from a listicle. Things became less personal, and it was less enjoyable and informative and satisfying to stalk people online because there was content, but it told you less than nothing about the person in most cases.

He thought about seeing who was on the after hours tow truck rotation. What he would do with that information he did not know. Take their place? Grill them for information?

“Fili!” Nori called out when Fili walked into the great room of the club house. It was Friday so the room was decently full with members and their significant others. The room was different than it had been when Fili and Kili had been teenagers. There was no more cigarette smoke, the music was less loud, and it had been redecorated with Dis’ assistance fairly recently meaning that not everything was black leather, glass, and chrome.

Fili grabbed a beer from the fridge and made his way over to join the cluster around Nori who was regaling his audience with a story about his previous weekend which seemed to have involved a lot of alcohol, a not insignificant amount of weed, and had ended with Nori passed out in his back lawn without any pants or underwear. Fili listened, but his thoughts kept wandering back to Kili.

“So…?”

“What?” Fili asked, snapping back to the moment to find most of the little circle looking at him.

“I heard the call out come in.”

Fili raised his eyebrows, playing ignorant, “What call?”

“Kili.”

“Oh?” Fili raised the beer to his lips.

“You’re not cute,” Nori replied.

“Debatable,” Fili grinned.

“I know you know what I’m talking about.”

“Hmm?”

“He said you already diagnosed his car’s problem.”

“Mhm.”

“And?”

“It’s the alternator.”

Nori gave Fili a pointed look.

Fili took that as his indication to leave. “I should get home, busy day tomorrow.”

Nori snorted. “Yeah, getting under the hood of a certain brunette.”

“It’s been over a decade,” Fili replied hotly. “We’ve both moved on. His car needs fixed. I’m on the schedule for tomorrow morning. You can go look for yourself. You can even come supervise me if you think I can’t be professional.”

Nori snorted. “That’s not something I need to see.”

“Fuck you.” Fili turned on his heel and left before anything else that he might come to regret came out of his mouth. Maybe home would have been a better choice.

He crammed his helmet on and then sat in the parking lot astride his big black bike connecting his phone to the bluetooth function in his helmet and then scrolling through music trying to find the right mood. He listened to a song for a few seconds and then skipped it. He sat there, focusing on that, calming down and not thinking about Kili, until a text came in.

Isa: Are you busy?

Fili: Maybe. Why?

Isa: The plans I had fell through.

Fili: Tinder boy a no show?

Isa: More like Tinder boy was a walking red flag. Isa: Literally

Fili: What were you thinking?

Isa: Drinks at the Green Dragon?

Fili: You buying?

Isa: Uh. What happened?

Fili: You’re not the only one who had something unexpected happen.

Isa: Color me interested.

Fili: Easier in person

Isa: I’m going to change and then I’ll be on my way.

Fili: Already on my bike

The Green Dragon was Bilbo’s pet project. Thorin had bought it for him as a birthday gift a few years ago. They still teased Bilbo that Thorin had given him a job to get him out of the house more often. But many of the club’s members frequented the pub. It filled a gap that many towns had. Bilbo called it “a third space” during the morning and afternoons people would meet there for book clubs, knitting groups, or just to grab a cup of coffee and people watch. Coffee, tea, pastries, some basic sandwiches, and salads were the main fare until after 5pm, when it turned more into a traditional bar space with a short and sweet entree menu, a rotating beer menu all from local breweries, and a daily desert. There was a small room, that used to be a coat closet, that Bilbo had turned into a Little Free Library / used book store.

The parking lot was already decently full when Fili pulled up.

Half of the space had been cleared of tables to create a make-shift dance floor (standard for Friday and Saturday nights) and there was something upbeat about rather being famous than dead pounding over the speakers. Bilbo had invested in a digital jukebox to help boost business post-COVID. Fili did not always love the music that the younger patrons picked, but if he really needed something a little more late-2000s, more punk, less pop, he could pay an extra fee and have his song bumped to the front of the list.

Fili claimed a corner booth and ordered whatever was dark on tap for himself and an IPA for Isa.

He drank is beer, ordered another along with some waters, and wait for Isa to arrive. He knew from experience that it could be a while. She said she was going to change and it really depended on how long it took her to pick a new outfit.

Fili: I got a table. Corner near the door.

The college kid checked to see if Fili needed anything else and Fili waved him off saying that he was waiting for a friend.

“I always forget how busy this palace gets on Fridays,” Isa said, sliding into the booth opposite Fili. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s a good thing, but… I’m just always surprised.”

Fili shrugged. “Makes it easy to talk without getting overheard.”

“That’s right,” she leaned closer, her bobbed dark curls falling forward, “You said something happened.”

Fili nodded and took a long drink, steeling himself to talk about this. He had learned to tease out the things that caused him any sort of distress rather than pretending that they did not exist and hoping that they would go away with time.

“He’s back.”

“Who?” Isa asked, licking a bit of foam from her upper lip.

“Kili.”

Her dark brown eyes went wide enough that white surrounded her irises. “What?!”

“That was pretty much my reaction.” Fili drained the rest of his second beer. “On the inside.”

“I bet. Did he say why he’s back?”

“His dad died a few months back. He says he’s here to sort through his things.”

“And you don’t believe him?”

“He hasn’t been back in over a decade, Isa.”

“Yeah. I see your point.”

“Plus he’s not just here for a long weekend or a week or two. He’s taken a job at the hospital.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So he’s probably sticking around for a while?”

Fili ordered another beer when the waiter came around again. “That’s what I figured.”

Isa pulled a face. “How do you know he’s back?”

Fili snorted. “He ended up stranded on the side of the highway heading in to town. I stopped to help before I realized it was him.”

“Would that have stopped you?”

“No. Probably not,” Fili sighed. “It’s just,” he exhaled heavily through his nose. “It’s been a decade, you know? I figured that I’d done pretty much all I needed to do, everything I could do, to move on. And then there he was, standing in front of me, and I got those butterflies all over again like we were sixteen again for God’s sake.”

Isa reached out to rest her hand on his. “I’m sorry that this has upset you. Is there anything I can do to help? Other than listen, of course.”

Fili rolled his eyes, “I can hear the therapist talking.”

“Sorry,” Isa forced a scowl. “You should show him that you’re over him by…” she stopped and looked around the Green Dragon for the most attractive person, “taking that girl home,” she pointed.

“That’s Rosie Cotton,” Fili said with an amused smile. “She’s seventeen.”

“Maybe not her then,” Isa casts around for another candidate.

“I see what you’re doing,” Fili said. “And, no, I’m going to do the well-adjusted healthy thing and go home by myself.”

“Good.”

“Besides, if you’re trying to pick the hottest person here, then you’d have to suggest yourself.”

“Flirt.”

Fili grinned.

“That’s good that you’re not even tempted.”

“I didn’t say that. I said I was going to be a grown up and not do the unhealthy thing. I make no promises about whether or not I look at porn when I get home.”

“Okay!” Isa exclaimed. “Too much information!”

“We’ve traded website recommendations.”

“I like to forget about that,” Isa sniffed.

“Yours were good. I still use them,” Fili teased.

“Moving on…” Isa nudged him. “So are you going to do anything about him being back?”

Fili pulled a face. “I don’t know. His car got towed to the shop and I’m working tomorrow morning, so I’ll probably see him when he picks it up, but he doesn’t have a way to get there so I might end up dropping it off at his place. Or… I don’t know, Isa.”

“I hear you.”

“Things ended so badly. We were both stupid. We both said things that probably hurt each other. I don’t remember things I said, but I remember things that he said. And I’m sure he remembers that last phone call. And everything that came before that.”

Isa frowned in confusion.

“I… I was not kind. And I hung up on him,” Fili stared down into the beer that had newly been refilled. “That was the night I got the DUI.”

“Speaking of that,” Isa said, “Just so this doesn’t have to come up later. Are you having another after that one? If so, I’m going to need your keys.”

Fili shook his head. “No. I shouldn’t even have this one, but I figured we’d be here for a while. I still have to hear about the Tinder boy.”

“In a bit,” Isa waved her hand.

“Like… how do we move forward from that? Do I apologize? Do I wait for him to apologize? Do we just pretend that none of it happened?”

“I think that depends on what you think your relationship with him will be moving forward.”

“Did I mention the butterflies?”

“I wouldn’t act like none of that happened then.”

“You’re right,” Fili sighed. He was silent for a minute. “So an apology. Then what?”

“I’d say just see where it goes. Time is what changes people. You’re not the same kid I met in State. I’m not the same girl. And I’m sure Kili isn’t the same either.”

“That could be a bad thing.”

“Or it could be a good thing. You said you got butterflies. Maybe he did too. Or maybe you can both be friends, neighbors, members of the same community without awkwardness.”

Fili snorted. “I doubt that last one.”

“You never know.”

“So tell me about Tinder Boy.”

“To start with the least problematic thing… he has / had a girlfriend …”

Fili drank his third beer a lot slower while he listened to the disaster that Isa’s date with Samuel the CPA had turned out to be. And it had only lasted fifteen minutes.

Taglist

Everything: @silvermoon-scrolls @metztlilua @i-am-pinkie

Fili/Kili: @dubhlachen

#whumptober2023 #no. 20 #lyrics #the hobbit #fic #bb writes #fili/kili #fiki #fast car au #dead batteries au

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onsunnyside · 3 years ago

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ʚ♰ɞ 𝟐. 𝐎𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | friends-with-benefits!Ransom Drysdale x camgirl!reader, dad's best friend!Chris Evans x camgirl!reader, camgirl!Natasha Romanoff x camgirl!reader (mentioned, just for shows and not romantically)

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, AGE GAP, SMUT - minors DNI, best friend!Natasha, dilf!Chris Evans (he's also very wealthy), sexting, FaceTime sex (starts, then is implied), dirty talk, daddy kink, fingering, grinding, camming: mentioned, sub!reader, masturbation.

𝗪/𝗖 | 6K

𝗔/𝗡 | oh my goodness, I took a nap and just woke up, so here's the next chapter of holy grail and thank you for your patience while I slept the evening away. also i needed a blond mcu character to be reader’s dad’s fiancee, it’s Carol. this chapter has been split into two parts because I use a lot of page breaks !! next part comes tmrw at 6pm EST. No gifs/photos belong to me, found bottom ones on Pinterest [1 | 2 | 3] all credits go to the original creators.

˗ˏˋ𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Have you seen my black bikini? I can’t find it.”

“Didn’t you wear it to that yacht party Ransom dragged you to?”

Of fucking course.

You groan and nearly stomp your feet in frustration. As if on cue, your phone starts ringing and that devil’s name flashes on the screen. Ignoring the call, you collapse onto Wanda’s bed with your arms over your eyes.

“I’m going to lie in the middle of a bike lane and wait to get run over by a cyclist.”

Wanda laughs, almost ruining her lipstick as she applies it in the mirror. “Shouldn’t you be packing for your trip?”

You scoff loudly. It wasn’t a trip, more like a forceful gathering to meet your father’s new fiancée. You’ve lost count on how many women you’ve seen hanging off his arm, wearing a shiny diamond ring on their left hand.

The last one was ten years younger than him and invited you to get lunch with her and her other friends. Against your will, you went because your father played the “You’ll be calling her mom soon” card. You almost laughed in his face right then, as if he forgot about his past stream of ex-fiancée's who came and left faster than a bolt of lightning.

It was pitiful. Your father has been desperate since your mother left him for another man long ago, but you can’t blame him. You haven’t spoken to her in years, not since you graduated high school. You’ve never forgiven her for cheating with her co-worker—even though now they’re both happily married, living with his children from a previous relationship.

While you took your heartbreak and pushed yourself into school and work, your dad set off on serial dating but, thankfully, did not have any more kids.

“I’m so glad Nat’s coming along—I would’ve faked being sick if she wasn’t.” You’ve always had a hard time telling your father no, but the relationship between the two of you was far stronger than the one you had with your mother. After the divorce, you chose to live with your father instead of your mother and her new husband. “I swear, when I finally find the guts, I’ll say no.”

“But not any time soon.” Wanda fills in, looking over her shoulder at you. Her eyes are lined with silver glitter, matching the simple jewelry around her neck and wrists. “Do you know why?”

“I love him too much?”

Your roommate shrugs, “Well, yeah but you also love to ogle at his friend.”

Your jaw drops and you grab a piece of clothing lying on her bed to throw at her, missing by a few feet.

Wanda flips her hair smugly, “I don’t blame you, if I wasn’t with Vis, I’d drag you by your ear to your dad's trip. I still remember when he had that layover and stayed in a hotel, and came by when we were having a girl's night. Men who aren’t afraid of face masks, self-care, and pedicures are my kind of men—ugh, some guys our age avoid soap like the plague.” She goes on a rant about her past failed relationships, all of which you were a witness to the garbage fire, until Vis, an older philosophy major came along.

You try to listen to her, but your mind is filled with memories from your last trip home. As Wanda loudly shuffles through her makeup, rambling about another jerk, “He left his pubic hair all over the bathroom as if he hadn’t ever cleaned—I still have flashbacks.”

Humming absentmindedly, you fall deeper into your head.

Lately, you have been far too busy to do an actual stream. Only posting photos and short videos for your fans—so thinking about that man wasn’t the best idea. Especially since you just showered.

But, how could you stop thinking about him?

He was older than you, almost double your age and he was best friends with your father.

Chris was wealthy—with a family name that will be old money rich down the line. He spent his life getting everything he wanted, but he never lost touch with his humanity. Always a humble man, he’s helped friends and family whenever they needed it and even funded one of your high school trips to Europe. And he definitely wasn’t terrible looking—hell, he wasn’t even average, he was beyond it.

Naturally gifted with looks that could melt anyone. Brown hair that was always flawless, either styled, in a fluffy mess or covered by a baseball cap. Perfect facial hair over his chiselled cheekbones and strong jaw. A prominent nose and freckles. Dark eyebrows, thick eyelashes and most notably, his clear blue eyes that sucked you in with a single glance.

And his body, you remember when you excused yourself and to change your panties. Watching him strut around, shirtless with all his tattoos exposed and drinking a beer, had affected you so deeply, you had soaked straight through the cotton.

You also ended up taking the opportunity to film a little video of yourself in your bedroom. Then, you posted it along with a promise of doing more that night and warning your fans that you’d have to be quiet. A lot of them liked when you had to silence yourself and so did you. Just the possibility of getting caught if you were too loud.

For the rest of that trip, Chris was very friendly with you. More than usual. You’ve caught him staring at you plenty of times, just the weight of his gaze sent goosebumps all over your body.

It picked up from there. The stares turned into winks and sly smiles, he’d raise his beer to his mouth and take a hearty gulp, drops slipping from the corners of his lips before he’d lick them away. Sometimes he’d make a show of it and collect the droplets with his finger before suckling them clean.

At first, it was hard to consider that Chris was attracted to you in the way you were to him.

Then, it all solidified on the last day of your trip.

You grew comfortable with his light touches on your hips—those could easily be written off as merely platonic affection. Then, you hit a stump.

When no one else is around, he comes up behind you and his big hands massage your shoulders, working out the knots in your neck and back until you are swaying on your feet. Your core feels warm as you can’t help but think about what other things his hands were skilled in.

You let out a soft moan as he presses himself against you. His heavy breath ghosting your skin, touch wandering to your waist and down your hips, the tips of his fingers dipping into the band of your shorts.

Your legs tremble as he coos softly, moving your ass over his thickening length—he definitely wasn’t small. His guttural groans harmonize with your quiet whimpers, and you shut your eyes, leaning against him and letting him manhandle your body how he wants.

It feels like a dream come true, because it was.

You grab one of his hands and push it inside your shorts, under your bikini bottoms. “Please.”

Chris’ groans grow in volume as he presses harder, his big cock sliding against your ass. Long fingers gently explore your wet folds, dipping down to your entrance before rubbing your throbbing clit.

“Are you always this wet for me, baby?”

Blissed out, you nod silently.

The distant sound of a door opening and your name being called yanks back to reality. The rush topples over you. But you don’t want it to end, you don’t want him to stop.

But Chris makes the decision himself and pulls away. You whine in protest and he only shushes you.

“Next time.” He kisses the side of your neck then leaves.

After that, you were so worked up. You had to put out the fire he started then abandoned. You ended up in the guest bathroom with your hand stuffed in your shorts, pressed against the wall as you desperately brought yourself to a finish. You didn’t even have time to film it—only posting a picture of yourself and your wetness afterward with a caption:

AngelEyes: I’m sorry I forgot to take a video, daddy! I couldn’t stop after I started, please forgive me :(

When you retrieved your bags from your room, there was a neatly wrapped box on your bed. You didn’t have time to open it and hurriedly stuffed it into your luggage before dashing out the door. Quickly bidding your father and his fiancée goodbye, and kissing Chris on the cheek, as you always have.

Although, this time, you might have kissed a little closer to his lips. From the way his hand drifted to your ass, it was safe to say he had no objections.

The present was unwrapped the moment you stepped foot into your apartment.

It was a skimpy black bikini with more straps than actual coverage, sparkly rhinestones dangling from some hems like water droplets. There wasn’t a note, not even a little hint as to who it was from, but you didn’t need one. You knew exactly who gifted it to you.

Hence, why you’ve been tearing your apartment apart searching for the immodest pieces of fabric.

The same bikini Ransom refuses to give back because “I fucked you while you wore it, that basically makes it my property now.”

“My dad said that Chris offered to host the trip at his new house.”

“Oh, a new one?” Wanda quizzes, “How is that man still single? He’s loaded, funny, intelligent, and clearly isn’t ugly! It doesn’t add up.”

That question has popped into your mind too. Ever since you’ve known Chris, there have been only a few times he’s mentioned seeing someone, but you’ve never met them.

“Maybe he wants to be single.”

“Or, he secretly has an awful attitude, he could be annoyingly jealous, or have deadly morning breath—or, he’s actually an asshole that no one can stand.”

You pout, “Hey, don’t say that.”

Wanda snickers, “Right, I forgot you’re in love with him.”

In love was a stretch, it was more like deep infatuation, making you insanely attracted to him. You still daydream about the time you walked in on him shirtless and playing the piano.

Standing from Wanda’s bed, there are a couple of texts from Ransom, the first one is needy, I miss your body, baby, then they get progressively more Ransom-esque, I know you miss me too, answer your phone before I drive down there.

The very last one has a photo of his crotch, his cock hard under his pants bulging against the zipper.

You text him back:

I just posted on my OF. Use that, idiot.

Ransom: Oh, I did. Then, I scrolled and saw that picture of you in the shower.

A video pops up, the cover is just a black screen, and you click on it without a second thought. A deep groan bursts from your phone along with a low mumble of your name. Wanda yelps, slamming her brush on her dresser and covering her ears. “Don’t watch porn in my presence!”

“I’m sorry!” You rush to the hallway, already answering Ransom’s FaceTime call. You quickly shut your bedroom door, pressing your back against it. Admittedly, you’re a little embarrassed even though Wanda has heard and witnessed worse.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?”

Ransom smirks, face flushed pink. “Yeah, yeah. Now take off your shirt, baby.”

You glance at your bed still scattered with clothes and your luggage lying half-empty on the floor. You have to leave by tonight to make it to Chris’ house in the morning. You and Natasha already booked separate private cabins with beds since the ride would take at least seven hours. You were also planning on sleeping the entire time.

“I still have to pack.”

On your screen, Ransom’s head is thrown back, the veins in his neck prominent as he moans. Only now do you notice he’s shirtless and just out of frame, his arm moves slowly. You know exactly what he’s doing, and it’s starting to affect you too.

His blue eyes are drawn back to you, “Why are you going anyway?” His breath shudders, “You always talk about how you’re fed up with your dad’s dating record. Plus, three days without dick? Baby, you’ll go crazy. That is unless you invite me.”

“I already invited Nat.” You huff.

“Of fucking course.” Ransom growls, “Are you sharing a cabin?”

“No.”

He raises a dark eyebrow, “Then, I can still come.”

“No, you can’t.” You despise how his arm speeds up, the camera pans down to his heaving chest. The muscles contract with every breath. “My dad doesn’t like you.”

“Is this about that daddy thing? I told you to change his contact name.”

That daddy thing was when Ransom tried to send himself a photo from your phone. It was a sneaky picture of you suckling a popsicle, watching television in nothing but his shirt. Thankfully, your legs were shut and you couldn’t see anything except the marks littering your body, ranging from hickeys to bruises from Ransom. He took the photo from the other side of the couch and used your phone since he couldn’t find his. In contrast to the other ones he’s taken of you, it was completely innocent—only if you ignored his text about adding it to the ‘post-sex album’ he has on his cellphone.

When you told your dad it was Ransom, it just hammered the last nail in the coffin for any potential friendship between your father and him.

“I’m not changing my dad’s contact name so you can keep yours.”

Ransom spits in his hand and brings it back down, the camera angled so you get a glimpse of his red shiny tip. He groans, “Why are we both daddy anyway?”

“Because he’s my dad! And you’re you!”

That smug smirk appears once more, “Yeah, baby? I’m your daddy?” He flips the camera to show his fully hard cock, cum leaking down the thick girth that he uses to make the glide smoother. “Are you going to show daddy that pretty cunt? Let me watch you ride your fingers, pretending it’s my cock?”

Seeing his big hand grip his dick and squeezing the base combined with his deep voice—Ransom could get you wet in a matter of moments. It truly wasn’t fair. So, you give in. “Fine, but make it quick.”

His long fingers tighten, “Oh, sweetie, you doubt my abilities. I’ve made you squirt over text, imagine what I could do like this.”

“And here we are, cabin thirteen and fourteen.” You struggle to read your tickets, hands full of your bags. Opening the door to the first room, you sigh in relief and set down your luggage.

“No one told you to overpack.” Your best friend mutters, also carrying one of your bags. She drops it by the door before standing upright, clad in a pair of black jeans and a ripped t-shirt. “Uh… it’s cute, cozy.”

The cabin is quite small and compact. The walls are painted white, the floor is a dark blue carpet. There’s a tiny foldable table in the middle, across from a red futon, currently set up as a couch. You sit down, testing the cushion. It wasn’t soft but it also wasn’t uncomfortable, it would suffice for the seven hours.

Natasha fixes her hair in the mirror on the back of the door, her green eyes meeting your gaze, “We should’ve got the one with bunk beds, those have bathrooms. We’re going to room together over the trip anyway.”

“And because of that, I’d like to rest while I can. If we were sharing, I’d have to watch you perform.” You raise an eyebrow as she sits beside you, her single duffle bag landing on her lap. “I can’t believe you’re doing all that on the train.”

“Oh, like you’re a saint.” She shoves you playfully, the dark sky looms outside the wide window, “As if you didn’t let Ransom finger you in that movie theatre—”

You slap a hand over her mouth as other passengers walk by your opened door, mortified if they heard your loud-mouth friend. “Shut up,” you hiss as she laughs, “remember when you and Banner fooled around in the parking lot of that diner? And Ransom and I didn’t film that. It just—happened.”

“A lot of things tend to just happen when the playboy is around.” She cocks her head, “Did you know he tried to bribe me to cancel on you? He thought you’d beg him to come instead.”

A little stream of glee rushes through you, an easy smile crawling into your face. If you asked him about that, he’d either downright deny and play clueless, or he’d list the reasons why his company would have been better than Natasha’s, continuing to prove his point when the matter is over with. He’s always been like that, shameless and self-assured, with confidence radiating from him like heat from the sun. Ransom was insistent when he wanted something—at least he didn’t show up at the train station.

You subconsciously glance through the window, craning your neck to see the platform and thankfully, it’s empty. “Well, my dad hates him, so I’d end up going alone anyway.” You say just as the announcement sounds for the last passengers to board, signalling everyone else to get settled.

Natasha stands up, “you’re really just sleeping? I’m sure my fans wouldn’t mind the return of the sweet AngelEyes.” She sings songs.

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. Natasha was a camgirl too, the two of you started around the same time when rent was going up and college was getting rough. After making accounts on Twitter where you posted short clips, risque pictures and truly let your deepest fantasies free, you both took that next step to OnlyFans. From then on, fame has grown exponentially, now being quite popular individually, it felt only right to test a few collaborations.

You’ve done a few shows together, nothing too scandalous or wild, but also nothing you would classify as Safe For Work. Being semi-opposites and best friends, you and Natasha fit seamlessly. You were submissive, soft, and maybe a brat sometimes. Natasha was gifted in a way, she could adjust to whatever people desired, and still have fun. Truly without the roleplay, she was polar of you, the dominatrix of people’s dreams, cunning and tantalizing, mostly clad in dark leather or lace, the BlackWidow with red cherry lips.

“You’re missing out,” She trails off, digging through her bag before whipping out a vibrator. She waves it before your face like a treat to a dog, “When was the last time you got off?”

“Home.” You answer shortly as your phone chimes. It was as if anytime you thought of Ransom, he’d appear like magic.

Natasha’s green eyes narrow slightly, she can always read you easily, “Playboy came over?”

You know that look, you also know you can’t lie to your friend, “no, but we FaceTimed.”

The redhead smirks, “of course, I’m assuming it was farewell, send-off. You know, it seems a little sentimental… Is there anything you’re hiding from me?”

That would be a way out—if you were actually keeping anything from her, but you weren’t. Or at least you desperately hoped. “No. I’ve told you before, there’s nothing.”

She whistles lowly, “An arrangement going on for this long—I’m surprised neither of you has fallen in love yet.” Her gaze locks on you, searing straight through your eyes and into your brain as if she’s trying to read your thoughts. You cower away, actually considering if you’re keeping any secrets you don’t even know about. The final warning for passengers to be settled sounds, and Natasha slinks out to the hall. “I’m just saying—he’s a little obsessed with you.”

You ignore the faint curiosity that blooms in your chest, scoffing loudly instead, “everyone should be anyway.”

Amused, Natasha raises her hands, still holding the sex toy, “I won’t argue with you, babe.” Then, she’s walking away with her bags, her vibrant hair brushing her shoulders.

“Break a leg.” You call, leaning on the frame.

“Oh, we know I like it rough, but not that rough, miss.” She tsks, waving her fingers over her shoulder. “Knock on the wall if someone is coming.” Then, you hear the door slide shut and lock.

You shut your door too, closing the blinds for privacy. You set up the futon to a bed and grab the small pillow and blanket you packed, lying across the cushion on your belly. The train starts moving, slow and steady vibrations rocking you to sleep, your phone dings as you slip away.

Ransom: Have a safe trip, baby. Call me if you need me.

Ransom: Especially if you’re doing a show, I’ll help you prep because daddy always takes care of his girl ;)

The house is in a secluded neighbourhood, halfway up a hill and at the end of a tall winding road. Hints of autumn paint the trees in yellow and red, some specks of orange amongst the branches that loom over the thin street. A light breeze flows through the air as the car pulls up to the black fence, you can’t help but gape at the size of the home.

White with black framed windows, at least two storeys from what you can see, since thick trees sprout from most of the property, offering some privacy for the wide windows. A redstone walkway leads to the large front doors, potted plants scattered on the porch as ivy grows over the side.

After punching in the code, you and Natasha walk through the automatic metal gates. Your luggage rolls along the ground as you spot your father’s car in the driveway.

“Holy shit.” Natasha gapes, “All this space for one guy? There has to be a home cinema, I just know it.”

“Probably, the last house had a fancy library, like from a haunted house or something.”

“Smart, kind, rich, and handsome—I wonder how many people would kill to be in your shoes.” The redhead smiles coyly as you both walk up the steps, “after that incident last time, I hope you stretched in the train, babe.”

You scoff, “shut up—” your jaw snaps shut as the doors swing open, you’re met with your father’s wide grin as he sweeps you into his arms.

Wrapped in his familiar cologne, you return the embrace. “Finally you’re here! We’ve been waiting all day!” He exclaims, pressing kisses along the side of your face, his beard tickles your face.

“It’s only the afternoon, dad.” Your laugh breathlessly as he squeezes you tighter, “Where’s your fiancée?”

Your father pulls away, “She’s still sleeping, that woman can sleep through anything, she’s the heaviest sleeper I know.” He hugs and greets Natasha too, kissing her cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here, you bring out my daughter—she can be so shy sometimes.”

“It’s hard to be completely open with someone who I don’t know.” You frown.

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry, I just want everything to go as smoothly as possible.” He turns to you, that same lovesick glow in his eyes, “I think she’s the one, honey. I haven’t felt this way before.”

You force a smile, meeting Natasha’s eyes over his shoulder as he picks up your bags. While your dad leads you into the giant house, Natasha hooks your elbows together, offering you a few quiet words of understanding.

The interior of the house is a combination of white, black and neutral earth tones. Several doorways veer off into other directions as a grand staircase leads to the second floor, a sunroof allowing a downcast of sunshine. It’s a cozy industrial style with dark wood floors, subtle pipework and contrasting exposed brick walls.

In contrast to Chris’ previous estates, it’s raw—with the caged pendants and expertly repurposed furniture. Most noticeably, the dark round table centered with the beige rug, three fresh bouquets of roses, one of them already in a vase with water.

“Chris went on a run, he should be back soon and he bought these for the both of you.” Your father takes two bunches and hands them to you and Natasha, “He’s nothing if not charming, they’re real too. I’ll bring your bags to your room then find some more vases.”

While Natasha takes a short shower, you unpack your clothes and hang up your dresses. Your father popped back in to fix your bouquets and set them on the desk by the window.

The room was probably almost as big as your apartment. With two queen size beds on parallel walls, a walk-in closet and an ensuite. There was even a small seating room before you entered the rest of the room, fitted with couches, a television and an electric fireplace.

You change into a silk dress that ends at your calves and shrug on a cardigan before leaving the bedroom. As you walk down the hallway, you pass picture frame collages. Most are of Chris and his family around the world, Disneyland and in their other fancy mansions. Others are of Chris and his friends, including your father—one, in particular, is from when they reconnected after years.

Chris and your father were childhood best friends. Growing up in the same neighbourhood and attending school together, you remember your dad talking about the trouble they used to get into until Chris left to study abroad after high school.

They lost touch after that and your parents met, got married and had you. Years fly by, and Chris and your father loosely reconnect. You didn’t formally meet Chris until the summer after graduation.

You had gone with your dad to Chris’ house, one of them anyway—who knew how many properties that man had. First impressions were as good as they could be, Chris was kind, funny, a great host and handsome as hell. Surprisingly, that was when you met your dad’s secret-not-secret girlfriend at the time. Oddly enough she was Chris’ neighbour who met your dad when he was staying over for some old friend bonding. That relationship didn’t last long and neither did the next or the one after.

You wonder if Chris also was tired of your father’s record too, probably, since your father gives the same recycled “I’ve been waiting my whole life for this woman” speech.

Another woman to get to know only for her to disappear and for another one to take her place.

But Chris also cared for your dad, you knew from the friendly encouragement, compassion and concern. If you ever got the confidence to confront your dad, you’d ask Chris to help you.

“Back in high school, I was one of the quiet ones while Chris was practically everyone’s dream.” Your father laughs, hand entwined with the woman beside him, “He was doing it all, sports, student council, drama club.”

The older man laughs, “You make it sound like I was the guy when I was just a dude.”

You’re all seated around the table in Chris’ dining room. Remains of an early dinner spread on the table, courtesy of the personal chef who Chris hired for the day. He and your father planned the three days as a relaxing getaway, blabbering about the hot tub, heated pool and sauna by the home gym, “no need to ask permission—this is your house for your entire stay.”

Tomorrow is a girls trip while the men went on a hike in the neighbouring wilderness. Your father was adamant about you getting close with his new fiancée. A barbeque is planned for the second day, while everyone lounges beside the pool with drinks, soaking up the last bit of sun before fall comes in full force. The final day was free since your train ride is set for that evening and of course, your dad hinted at more quality with his fiancée, but Chris had spoken up too, “The girls might have course work, right? Any big projects coming up?” A clever way to stray the discussion.

Expectedly, he hasn’t said a word about the last trip, or even hinted at it. As if it didn’t even happen, you didn’t blame him. Although, you couldn’t help but admire his tight t-shirt, the material thin enough that you can see the tattoos on his skin, there are more than you remember. While you tried to sort your thoughts, Natasha was a natural conversationalist and got along with everyone, filling in those gaps of silence.

She’s glad to be the buffer after you found out your father’s new fiancee is only a few years older than you.

“I miss the days when we used to wait outside the supermarket, the ice cream truck would go by, it was a family business. Mr. and Mrs. Yan would always give us free cones…”

“Yeah, and you’d chase down every person who accidentally dropped change.” Chris points a finger at your father, “could’ve kept it and used it on the little kiddie rides.”

“That’s adorable.” Across the table, the young woman swoons, leaning her blond head on your father’s shoulder. “You’ve always been a sweet man, huh?”

“And tremendously frugal.” The blue-eyed man turns to you. At the head of the table, Chris sighs, “Your dad still refuses my money—just as he did when we were younger. Do you know I’ve caught him sneakily returning cash in my wallet? Like a little tooth fairy, except he was getting nothing.”

Everyone laughs, you and Natasha included. It’s lighthearted and casual, the plates are clear and the glasses almost empty as the sun begins to set, the rays peeking through the vast windows.

“I don’t want you to think I’m friends with you for your money!”

Chris rolls his eyes playfully, “I know that, you idiot—you’re lucky there are ladies present or I’d throw you into the pool.”

Admittedly, you’ve missed this. You’ve admired the friendship between your father and Chris, genuine and fun-loving, their years of experiences together were evident. Especially since Chris knows just how stingy your father could be. You’ve heard this same conversation a thousand times before, but Natasha hasn’t.

“What do you do?” The redhead asks, slowly sipping her drink. “This house is straight from Architectural Digest.”

“My grandparents own a hotel chain, worldwide and it’s up there with the Marriott and Hilton. I started working for them after college and now I travel around a lot for potential locations. Last week, I was in Miami—”

Your father interrupts, “—and he’s got quite the allowance—”

“—you know I hate that word, it makes me sound like a child.”

“—and his inheritance fuels the bachelor lifestyle. He’s like an older, but matured frat boy.”

Chris sighs, “Ah, frats, I wish I joined one instead of that private school shit—stuff, sorry, ladies.”

You can imagine him as a fratboy with a solo cup, an engaging yet cocky attitude, and being incredibly flirtatious. He already wears plaid, tight henleys, backwards caps, and that chain around his neck. If he shaved, he’d probably look ten years younger.

If you met fratboy Chris in college, you’d let him have you anytime and anywhere—you almost scoff to yourself—as if you wouldn’t let Chris as he is, older, distinguished and assertive, rail you into the next week.

As the memories come flooding back, you clench your thighs. While Natasha chats with your father and his fiancée, Chris catches your stare and licks his plump lips. His eyes trail down your low-cut dress, lingering on your breasts then returning to your face. He winks over his beer bottle.

And just like that, you’ve bitten the bait, and he’s reeling you in.

“How’s school for you both? Work?”

You clear your throat, stumbling over your answer. “We’re good… school is good.”

Natasha, bless her heart, swoops in. “It’s only the beginning of the semester, but I dread when exam season comes up. As for work,” She turns to you with a grin. Oh no, you know that look. “We work together actually.”

Your dad turns to you, his arm around his fiancée as if she would run away. Honestly, you almost want to tell her to run while she can. “You got a job? You didn’t tell me, hun.”

Your hand lands on Natasha’s thigh, squeezing as a silent form of look what you did. “Well, you finally took a vacation and met—her,” what was his fiancée's name? Carol? “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

The older man frowns, reaching over to take your free hand. His warm rough skin against yours as he hesitates, lowering his tone, “Is this about money? I said I’d always support you. Do you need—”

“No, no I just wanted,” You pause, trying to find the right words, “I wanted the responsibility—the work ethic. Skills that can help after I graduate.”

Beside you, Natasha hums in agreement. “She works so hard, to the point where she almost passes out right after a shift, but her customers love her, some even send her gifts.”

Oh god, you wonder if you should’ve just come alone.

Chris props his elbow on the table, blue eyes surveying your face, “Are you sure you’re okay? You know I’m here for you. With help, cash, advice—I’ve got a lot of experience under my belt,” He says slowly, “you know, budgeting and anything…”

You tear your fingers from your father's, taking a large gulp of water. “Yeah, I just wanted the, uh, discipline.”

Your father contemplates for a few moments then nods and launches into a story of his teens when he got his first job at a local retail store. You try to listen, even though you know it like the back of your hand, but you’re compelled to the man across from you. Chris’ dark gaze is set on you, almost pinning you in your chair. He takes a slow sip of his beer, a drop on his lips before he licks it away.

You feel something touch your ankle, trailing up your leg as his hand disappears beneath the table. Your father’s voice blends into background noise as Chris’ muscles flex under his shirt, his jaw clenched tight under his beard.

If someone could read minds, they’d be appalled by his thoughts.

On the walls of his mind are lewd fantasies. They’re all of you. Nude, a sheen of sweat coating your skin as he spits out commands, all of which you follow enthusiastically. Discipline, he knew you liked things a little rough from your shows. He’s witnessed you begging for guidance, and when you got it, you’d either follow them seamlessly or deliberately disobey.

A submissive angel who had a bratty side, with a love for being told what to do, and an even bigger desire to be punished.

His imagination is halted by your father's fiancée.

“My first job was at a juice bar, it was in the park of one of those high-class neighbourhoods. The ones with the fancy fountains and weekly celebrations. In the winter, we served hot chocolate and got off early—which was great because my boyfriend at the time had a job down the pier.” Carol turns to you, “Which was the best, everyone went to the pier, it was much less kept than where I worked. God, I loved the sunset there.”

Your dad smiles, “We always watch the sunset if we can.”

“I can only imagine what it looks like from here, with no big buildings to block the view.”

“Then, let’s head out to the backyard. We can watch the sunset on the deck—which I helped build over the summer.”

Chris kisses his teeth, “I said thank you a million times and tried to pay you—what else do you want, jerk?”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: good gosh, I can't wait to share the next part with all of you !! we get to see dbf!chris being filthy and meet a new character (a certain neighbour), jealousy drops by too !

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! next part: Feb. 11 @ 6pm EST.

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

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areyouwho-ithinkyouare · 4 years ago

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was gonna make a joke abt how i’m avoiding painting her hands like the plague but like...... perhaps it’s not the time.

#this is based on a photo i found on someone’s reference image pinterest board #don’t know who took the original but it’s proving v fun to paint

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jisung-shine · 3 years ago

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💌Secret Admirer: Park Jisung💌

💘Park Jisung x Reader ft. Zhong Chenle being a supportive bestie

💘Genre: Fluff

💘Warnings: None

💘Scenario: It’s the week before holiday break, and Park Jisung, after being urged by his best friend Zhong Chenle to do so, decides to confess to his crush at school....through a series of secret admirer letters.

💌Hello everyone! I hope you are well.

💌Today I have a timestamp/scenario hybrid featuring none other than Park Jisung! I originally wrote this in December like a year ago, so there’s some hint that this takes place in winter lmao

💌Let’s just get right into it! Stay hydrated everyone, and make yourselves comfortable! Grab some blankets, hot chocolate, tea, whatever you need, and I hope you enjoy!

I don’t own any of the photos used! I found them on Pinterest. Credits to the rightful owners of these swaggy Jisung pics!!

✨💌✨

[2:09 PM]-Monday

“Just do it already.” Chenle hissed, smacking Jisung lightly on his shoulder. “You’re lucky I was even able to talk the teacher into letting us go early!”

“It’s only one minute early, Chenle.” Jisung replied with a pout, clutching the rose-colored envelope tightly in his shaking hands. “And you told the teacher it was for true love! She probably thinks we are crazy.”

“We ARE crazy.” Chenle said with a straight face. “Now go put that letter in the locker, Jisung!”

“But I’m nervous. What if Y/n thinks it’s weird?” Jisung replied, his eyes wide. “Even worse, what if Y/n knows it’s me?”

“Ji, isn’t the point of this to eventually end up confessing your feelings? Come on, dude! You got this. Besides, you kept the note anonymous. This is just to see how Y/n reacts to it first, before you swoop in and capture the heart of your one true love.” Chenle exclaimed, draping a hand on his forehead dramatically. Jisung groaned.

“Hurry up, Jisung! You have like thirty seconds until the bell rings!” Chenle exclaimed, pushing Jisung out into the empty hall.

“Ack! Okay!” Jisung took a deep breath, hurrying across the hall. Finally, he reached it. Your locker. Looking around, Jisung gulped before shoving the envelope in the locker and booking it back to Chenle.

“You did it! That’s step one. Now we wait. Y/n will be coming in about 3, 2, 1....” Chenle slapped his friend on the back, pulling him behind the corner of the wall and counting down the seconds on his phone. Jisung waited, holding his breath, as the bell rang, signaling the end of school. Jisung thought he was going to pass out.

[2:10 PM]-Monday

“I’ll see you later, Sungchan!” You called to your friend from class as he turned down a separate hall, waving. In a somewhat happy mood, you headed down the bustling hall to your locker, cradling your books and notebooks in your arms. After putting in the locker combination, you swung open the small blue door. Oddly enough, a red envelope tumbled out, landing at your feet.

“What is this?” You asked, bending down and picking it up. It was slightly bent, but it had your name scrawled messily across the front. Curiously, you opened the envelope, pulling out a note scribbled onto a sheet of notebook paper.

A letter? Cocking an eyebrow, you began to read:

“Dear Y/n.

Um, hello. You might not know who I am, right now, at least, but you will. Eventually. I just wanted to tell you that I really, really like you. Like....I have a crush on you. You’re smart, funny, pretty, and really kind, and I couldn’t help but fall for you. But I’m too shy to tell you in person...right now, at least. You do know who I am, though. And I hope you feel the same way. I hope this doesn’t sound creepy.

Sincerely,

Cupid Park, your secret admirer”

Your eyes widened as you finished reading the short letter, a blush creeping up your cheeks. Cupid Park? Who was that? The note said you knew the person? Wait, someone liked you? You had so many questions racing around your mind as your heart thundered in your chest. You looked around, but through the crowded hall, you wouldn’t be able to see if anyone was there, even if they were. You smiled as you read the letter again, running your thumb over the name “Cupid Park.” You didn’t know anyone named Cupid, so you figured that was a made-up nickname to remain anonymous. You know, Cupid and romance go together. But Park? Park, Park....there was only one Park you could think of. As you packed up your things, your mind immediately went to one person, and one person only. You didn’t want to get too far ahead of yourself, and tried to push down the thought that it could possibly be him who wrote the letter. As soon as you read the name Park, he popped into your head.

Park Jisung. It couldn’t be him, right?

There was no way, absolutely NO WAY, that the boy from your English class who you’d had a crush on since the first day of the school year but were too shy to talk to, had a crush on you. It was just too much to hope for.

Right?

[2:14 PM] -Monday

“Jisung, did you see that? Y/n was smiling!” Chenle exclaimed, pumping a fist into the air. “That’s good, right?”

“Yeah, but Y/n still doesn’t know it’s me, dummy. It could be anyone for all Y/n knows.” Jisung frowned. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“Dude, no, it’s not! It’s a great idea! And besides, Y/n is super nice and sweet, we have science together. You won’t get stomped to the floor.” Chenle reassured his panicking friend, patting his back.

“Wow, thanks, I’m glad not being stomped is the only goal here.” Jisung narrowed his eyes, peeking around the corner again as you closed your locker, still clutching his letter in your hands.

“You know what I mean. And come on, let’s go, if we go now, we can walk by Y/n, and maybe you can say hi.”

“Chenle what—“ Jisung began as Chenle grabbed his arm, pulling him forward and in the direction of you as you walked down the hall.

“Just say hi as we walk by! It’ll be fine!” Chenle assured him, pushing him into the busy hall.

Jisung panicked, freezing right in the middle of the hall as you approached.

He caught your eye as you walked by, and quickly raised his hand in a wave.

“Hi Y/n!” Jisung called out, much louder than he meant to.

You gave him a look of surprise before smiling that bright smile, the one that made his heart flutter, and waving back. You still held the letter safely in your other hand, clutching it to your chest.

“Hi Jisung!” You replied cheerfully before turning down the other end of the hall. You seemed positively overjoyed, which was a good sign to him. Could your happy mood be because of his letter? He sure hoped so. After all, the two of you didn’t talk often. The most he had done on his own was ask you for a pencil once (after Chenle stole his so that he would ask you for one, of course). The only other time was that one occasion when the teacher had partnered the both of you up for a project. He hadn’t said much to you then, either, and neither did you, for that matter, but he was secretly overjoyed to have been partnered with you. So, your bubbly greeting was a but of a surprise to him. But, it was a pleasant surprise, nonetheless.

[2:12 PM] -Wednesday

You rushed as fast as you could from math class to your locker, your heart pounding in anticipation of another letter. You still didn’t want to get your hopes up too high, but you were pretty sure the one writing the letters really was Jisung. After all, on Monday he had walked by you on your way out of the school, and you knew for a fact he usually didn’t come down that hall at that time. On Tuesday you had found another note in your locker, this one simply commenting that you looked “really pretty” that day, and quickly mentioning that he enjoyed hearing your essay.

The only class you had written an essay for recently was English. Jisung was in your English class.

You reached your locker, your fingers fumbling quickly with the combination lock. All the pieces made sense. Cupid Park, in your English class, had to be Jisung. Who else could it be? You just couldn’t believe there was a possibility that the boy liked you back.

Yanking open the locker door, another red envelope fell out. Having expected it, you caught it before it had the chance to tumble to the floor, and tore it open excitedly, your heart pounding.

“Dear Y/n,

I wonder if you know it’s me yet. And I wonder if you are okay with it. I hope you are. Holiday break is starting at the end of this week, and I want to reveal myself to you before then. After school ends on Friday, will you meet me in the library? I have something for you, and I want to confess my feelings, in person this time. I hope you will come.

Until then,

Cupid J. Park, your secret admirer”

Cupid J. Park. The “J” was a new addition, and you almost screamed out loud in the middle of that hallway. This practically confirmed it, didn’t it? Your secret admirer had to be Jisung! It just had to be! Jisung could bet on you meeting him in the library on Friday, you wouldn’t miss that for anything. He could count on it.

Closing your locker with a joyful giggle, you practically skipped down the hall. You couldn’t wait for Friday!

[2:14 PM] -Friday

Jisung paced nervously at one of the study tables in the front of the library, clutching the carefully-wrapped present in his hands. Chenle had helped him pick it out, and he thought it was perfect. It was a pale-pink knit beanie, the same shade as the sneakers you always wore. He hoped you would show up. He didn’t know what he would do if you didn’t. He might cry, honestly. Yep, that seemed like a very possible option.

Jisung kept glancing at the door as the seconds ticked by. Finally, the clock turned to 2:15, and suddenly, you appeared in the doorway of the library, a pearly grin plastered onto your face. He would never NOT find that smile beautiful in every way.

“Oh my gosh...” he breathed, as your eyes finally landed on him, your face lighting up!

“Jisung! I knew it!” You hurried toward him, stopping short in front of him and almost tripping on the library carpet.

“Huh?” He asked, his cheeks flushing red.

“I knew Cupid Park was you!” You giggled. “I didn’t want to get my hopes up because I really really like you, but I didn’t want to think it was you in case it wasn’t, and—“ You rambled, and Jisung blinked, taken aback.

“Wait, you like me too?” He asked excitedly, a grin spreading on his face.

You stopped, your cheeks flushing pink. He nearly combusted on the spot at the adorable sight. You nodded, and he almost let out a squeal of sheer joy.

“Um, yes. Yes I do!” You said, covering your face with your hands.

“Well—“ Jisung said, and you lowered your hands. “—as you have figured out, I like you too! You really knew it was me?” He asked. He knew he dropped a lot of hints, courtesy of Chenle, but he didn’t actually think it would actually be THAT obvious.

You nodded again. “Like I said, I didn’t want to hope too much, but I had a feeling it was you. After all, you’re the only ‘Park’ that came to mind who has English with me, and the “J. Park” just confirmed it! But, well, I had a feeling, even on Monday. I’m really glad it’s you.” You explained, laughing. Jisung grinned, suddenly remembering the gift that was still in his hands.

“Oh! Christmas is soon, and um, this is for you. I got it with my friend Chenle. He helped me pick it out, because I wanted to get you something, but I didn’t know what to get.” He held out the red-wrapped package, mentally kicking himself for giving you all those unnecessary details. He probably seemed incapable, now, and you probably thought Chenle did all the work!

“Oh! You got me something?” Your eyes widened, and you accepted the gift, gently tearing the paper off. “And I know Chenle, he’s in my science class.”

Jisung nodded, watching as you finished unwrapping the present, delicately pulling the soft pink hat from the wrapping paper.

“Oh my gosh, this is so cute, Jisung! I love it!” You exclaimed, suddenly lurching forward and wrapping him in a hug. He could feel your heart pounding in your chest and knew you were just as nervous as he was in this moment.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You stepped back, blushing deeply. “For the hug.”

“No, it’s okay.” Jisung assured you, feeling his own cheeks heat up even more. “It was more than okay, actually.”

Why did he have to be like this? “It was more than okay.” He mentally kicked himself for the second time. Chenle would be making fun of him so much right now if he were here.

Much to his relief, you simply laughed, and began putting on the hat. “Technically we aren’t supposed to wear hats in school, but it’s after school, so I’m going to wear it anyway. Besides, the librarian is really nice.” You said while shoving the beanie over your hair.

Jisung smiled at you before turning around to glance at the librarian, who was at her desk, watching the both of you with a knowing smile. Jisung felt even more embarrassed.

“I wish I had something for you now.” You said, frowning.

“Oh no! It’s okay!” Jisung smiled. “Well....” He stared shyly at the floor.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Would you like to go on a date? With me? Next Friday?” He asked, scratching the back of his neck. “We could go see a movie or something, or we can stay in and watch a movie. ‘Tis the season to watch Frozen, am I right?” He rambled, blushing. Frozen? FROZEN?

“I would love to! And I love Frozen!” You replied, making Jisung feel slightly more relaxed.

“Then that’s a perfect gift.” He replied, brushing the hair out of his eyes.

You smiled, and the both of you stod there for a moment, just blushing and grinning. Jisung had to remember to thank Chenle later for urging him to do this whole thing in the first place!

“Oh, um, here, let’s exchange numbers.” Jisung said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. You did the same, and the both of you swapped phones. Carefully, Jisung typed his number and name, debating whether or not to asd a heart. Why not? He quickly added a green heart at the end of his name before handing your phone back to you, quickly realizing he shouldn’t have worried about the heart at all.

Because you had added a pink one next to your name in his phone.

“So, secret admirer.” You giggled. “I’ll see you Friday?”

“See you Friday.” Jisung agreed, positively beaming.

#jisung #nct jisung #park jisung x reader #park jisung fluff #nct #nct dream #nct x reader #park jisung scenarios #jisung ff #park jisung ff #nct dream ff #park jisung scenario #park jisung fanfic #jisung x y/n

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babycharmander · 4 years ago

Text

If you think you have never stolen artwork, read this post.

So, art theft. If you've been a follower of mine, you've heard my barely-coherent rants about this before, but I thought it might be more productive to make a more coherent post on the subject.

If you're wondering about the title of the post here, it's because I feel like a lot of people aren't really grasping what exactly art theft is, and a LOT of people, even well-meaning ones, do it without even realizing it.

"But wait," you say. "I would never STEAL from an artist!! I never claim it as my own!" And that's all fine and good, but you're missing something here.

To start things off, what IS art theft? (It's not what deviantART said it was several years back, I'll tell you that much. *cough*)

We all know what art is, so let's talk about theft. Dictionary.com defines "theft" as "the act of stealing; the wrongful taking and carrying away of the personal goods or property of another; larceny." Okay, makes sense, but what about that other word there, stealing? Dictionary.com defines "steal" as "to take (the property of another or others) without permission or right, especially secretly or by force."

From those definitions, we can go on to define art theft as, specifically, "taking art without permission or right." In the context of art, that typically involves reposting it (not reblogging--reblogging is different) or using it for other things.

And there, my friends, is the issue.

If something is taken or used without permission, it is stolen. Permission is the important thing here--if an artist says "oh yeah, you can go ahead and use this!" then it's not stolen. You have their permission. But if you DON'T have that, then it IS stolen. It IS theft.

"But I'm not claiming it as my own!" you say. But you don't have to claim it as your own--the act of taking it in and of itself is an act of theft.

"But I said 'credit to the artist!'" The "credit" thing is a whole other conversation, but here's the short of it: The entire point of credit is to direct people to the source of something. If you are not directly linking to where you got the art from, you are not giving credit. "Credit to the artist" is not actually credit of any kind whatsoever. (Also, Google and Pinterest are not sources.)

"But I DID link back to the artist!" Okay, now this is where it may get confusing, because you may think you're covered because you actually did give credit. Here's the problem: if you reposted it or used it without permission, regardless of whether you gave credit or not, it's still stealing.

I'm bolding this because it's a point that a lot of people get tripped up on. Let me explain it this way: If you went into your neighbor's house and took something of theirs without their permission, but you told people "oh yeah, I got this from [neighbor]'s house!" that that would still, of course, be stealing, and it's no different for art.

Another thing is that even when you credit, people don't always check the source. Very recently I found a case where someone had reposted a piece of artwork of mine to Pinterest that was deliberately made to look like it came from the source material (it wasn't meant to confuse anyone, though--the description of my original post made it very clear that it was fanart). The person who reposted had linked back to my original post. The problem? The comments had people asking if this was official, where it happened in the source material, etc. Despite the fact that the source was right there, no one thought to look at it.

Even if you link back to the source, if you did it without the artist's permission, it's still stealing, and still causes problems for us artists.

"But I just posted it to my Pinterest--" DO NOT DO THIS. DO NOT POST AN ARTIST'S WORK TO PINTEREST IF YOU DO NOT HAVE THEIR EXPLICIT PERMISSION TO DO SO.

"But this artist friend of mine says they're okay if I post their work to my Pinterest so long as I link back to them!" Good for your friend! But the fact that your friend is okay with it doesn't mean that all artists are okay with it. For me, personally, I am very not okay with my work being posted to Pinterest, and say as much on my art blog description and posts (which people tend to ignore).

The problem with Pinterest--and reposting art in general--is that we artists don't know when it happens unless we're told, or unless we find it ourselves. It causes us to lose control of our art. And because of this, our art can spiral further out of our control, because when our works get posted to Pinterest or other similar websites, people who have no grasp whatsoever on how art works will just take it as "free art" and then use it for whatever they want.

That's how a piece I spent 20+ hours on was used as a poster for a paid event, without my permission, and without any payment or credit to me.

If an artist has said nothing about Pinterest (or other similar image sharing sites), your default should be to assume that they don't want their artwork posted there.

"Well I didn't repost someone's art, but I did use it for my avatar/RPing icon/video/fic cover/photo edit--" That's still stealing. If you're using it without their permission for any reason, that is stealing. Not to mention, the artist may not be cool with what you're using their art for anyway. (Looking at you, people who use platonic art in your shipping videos.)

“I MEANT to ask them for permission, but I forgot!” This can ONLY happen if you used the artwork BEFORE you asked for permission. You can resolve this by asking for permission BEFORE you use it, rather than assuming the answer will be “yes” and using it before asking.

"But it took me a really long time to make that icon/video/cover/edit!!" How long do you think it took the original artist to draw their piece? It doesn't matter how much work you put into modifying someone else's art--if you're doing it without their permission, you're still stealing.

"But I couldn't find the original artist! I tried to find them, I really did, but I couldn't. Is it okay to use their art then?" No, because you still don't have permission, and by reposting it anyway, you’re continuing to make the artwork spiral out of their control.

"What if I found the artist, but they speak a different language from mine? I can't ask them for permission, so is it okay if I repost their art anyway?" NO!! DO NOT DO THIS!! If there is a language barrier, use Google translate or find someone to translate for you and get a hold of the artist that way to ask them for their permission. The language barrier is NEVER an excuse to steal artwork. There are plenty of non-English-speaking artists who have taken ALL OF THEIR ARTWORK OFFLINE because the art theft was completely out of control. (And this isn't just exclusive to English-speakers stealing art from people who don't speak their language. It happens artists who don't speak English stealing art from English-speakers, too, but as this post is written in English it doesn't do much good for me to rant about this here.) If you can’t ask their permission, do not use it!!

"But what about reblogging?! Isn't that the same as reposting?? Should we not reblog art at all then?" No, reblogging (or retweeting) is not the same as reposting. If you reblog art, you keep all the information that we attached to the art, including our blog name and the description attached to the art. Reblogging/retweeting actually helps us artists A LOT, so as long as you're reblogging from the original artist (and not someone who's reposting their art), by all means, reblog our art!

"What if I just want to share someone else's artwork on Discord or show it to a friend?" This one's a bit different and is not actually as problematic. If you want to share our work on Discord or whatever, just link directly to where we posted it. Please don't post the art itself, unless you're doing it alongside a link because Discord won't show a preview or something.

"What about a forum or a site like Reddit?" This one's a bit different, since due to the way Reddit functions, if you LINK to the art, you have to go directly to the artist's original page to view it. (At least, that’s what it’s like the last time I was active there.) In a way it's roughly the same as with Discord--be sure you're linking directly to the actual post rather than just uploading the art on its own--but I would also ask the artist if they're okay with it, because they may be a member of the subreddit or forum and want to post it themselves, or they might not want their work shared to specific communities. (Some communities have a function where a bot will repost the artwork to Imgur, and some artists don't want that done with their art.)

"What if I'm saving it to my computer/phone to look at later, or making it into my desktop/phone wallpaper?" IMO this is fine, since your computer/phone files aren't public, and neither is your wallpaper. It's only a problem when you post it to public places without our permission.

"What if it's art I commissioned?" Well... like... in that case, it's art you paid for, so unless the artist you commissioned laid out very specific terms for you, you should be good to use that art. Like, at most, the artist may ask you to credit them somewhere in your blog description if they drew your icon or something, or credit them in a fic description if you commissioned a fic illustration from them, or something to that effect. It's really something you should have already worked out with the artist beforehand, but for the most part you should probably be fine to use art you paid for however you like.

"What about art I requested?" This is a bit different from commissioned work. Just because the art was drawn at your request doesn't mean it's explicitly yours (unless it's like, a drawing of your original character or something). Some artists take requests more as suggestions, so the art they draw in response to a suggestion or request is still theirs. Treat this as you would any other artwork and ask the artist for permission first before you do anything with the artwork you requested from them.

“What about NFTs?” ... Okay this one I can’t really go over too much because I barely understand it in the first place, but NFTs are BAD for artists and are a form of art theft. Do not turn people’s art into NFTs. This is a crappy thing to do. (If you want more information on this one, you’ll have to look it up yourself. It’s a form of cryptocurrency and it’s confusing.)

“If you don’t want your art stolen you shouldn’t post it in the first place.” This is fascinating logic. Try applying it to something else and see how it holds up. “If you don’t want your merchandise stolen, you shouldn’t open a booth.” “If you don’t want to get poisoned you shouldn’t eat food.” “If you don’t want to get punched in the face, don’t walk outside.” Yes. Flawless logic. Truly.

"Why do you care so much, anyway?! I'm sharing your art because I like it! That's a compliment! Shouldn't you be happy?" Well, we're certainly glad you like our art, but the problem is... as I've said before, reposting our art causes us to lose our control over it. When we lose control of our art, that damages our livelihood. As I said before, other people have made money off of my artwork. As well, some artists lose jobs because when their potential employers check out their portfolio, they may find artwork that's been reposted everywhere online, so they cannot hire the artist because they believe they may have stolen the artwork in their own portfolio.

Your reposting an image you thought was cute to Facebook or Pinterest could cost an artist their job. Think about that.

So, tl;dr, keep this in mind: you need the artist's permission to repost or use their artwork. If you do not have it, it is stealing, even if you credit the artist.

I know this post is really harsh in places, but this is such an important thing for all artists, and there's so many misconceptions about art theft online. And I feel like one of the biggest problems is that when some people see posts on art theft, they ignore them, because they think they've never done it or would never do it, so that's why I worded this post the way I did. I'm not trying to hurt anyone--I just want people to understand what art theft is, how it affects us artists, and how you can avoid it. Thank you for reading.

#long post #psa #drawing #art theft

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study-coffee-chicago · 3 years ago

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Seasons of Med: Season 5 & Seasons of PD: Season 7: Necrotizing Fasciitis Scare (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

Your age: 18

Jay's age: 32

Will's age: 34

"I am going to get you to understand football at this game come hell or high water," Jay told you as you said that you really didn't understand anything about football while Kevin tried to hook up the tv. Kelly threw Jay the football and Jay caught it.

"Hell or high water, huh?" you asked. "Did you just turn southern? Isn't that a southern phrase?"

"I can say whatever I want, thank you were much. Now catch." He threw you the football and you caught it easily.

"Kelly, I can't promise this is gonna be a good throw, so be ready to move," you told him as you threw the football to him. He had to jump to the left and jump high to catch it.

"Y/N, you suck at this," he laughed.

"I know."

"Jay, teach your sister how to throw a football, will you?"

He threw the ball back to Jay.

All of you were currently at Soldier Field to watch the Bears' game on a Friday afternoon. Will was originally going to go with Jay and you were going to study for your biology class, even though it was summer. You had decided to take a summer biology class so then you wouldn't have to deal with it during the fall and winter semesters when you'd be drowning in homework with other classes...and you figured you could do this one in the summer because you had heard horror stories of how hard this specific professor at CCU was. Luckily for you, Will was a doctor and could help you understand those damn diagrams that always gave you trouble.

Anyway, Will was going to come, but he got put on the schedule last minute, so Jay dragged you here even though you didn't know the slightest bit about football. Hell, you didn't even have any Bears gear to wear! Jay had given you one of his hats to wear with the promise that he'd get it back.

"Y/N!" Hailey yelled to you. "Wanna run to Mama Garcia's food truck with me?"

"Yes!" you exclaimed.

"Hailey," Jay whined. "I was just about to teach her how to throw a football."

"Halstead, if she doesn't know yet, I'm sure you can wait a few minutes. Now, I need my Spanish-speaking Halstead to come with me."

You had taken AP Spanish last year and had gotten a good enough grade on the AP exam to give you twelve college credits. This was partly thanks to Mama Garcia. You had been studying in her restaurant one night when you asked her a question about a tense. She explained it and then said that if you ever wanted to practice speaking Spanish and make some money at the same time, that you could work or her under the table. You took her up on that offer and your Spanish improved immensely.

Once you got up to the window of the food truck, you ordered a big batch of tamales in Spanish and then translated how much it was to Hailey. Then, you and Hailey went back to Jay and the rest of all your brother's first responder friends.

Kelly was yelling at Stella, Hailey, and you not to break into the tamales before the burgers were done, but you all didn't listen and each grabbed one out of the box.

You were in the middle of eating yours when you heard a scream.

You went towards the scream along with Jay, Natalie, and Kelly, but Jay made sure you stayed behind him. But, this didn't block your entire view, though.

You looked down at this man's leg. It was red and it looked like there was a giant gash on his shin with puss, blood, and flesh coming out. Things were moving underneath the skin. He was seizing and he kept saying BRT.

It was all too much. You took the Bears hat off.

"Y/N, I need you to get away from this. Whatever this guy has, I don't want you to--"

Jay didn't even finish his sentence before you vomited into that he had let you use, using it as a makeshift bowl for your puke.

He gently grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side after you finished emptying that tamale you had started eating into his hat.

"You done? You good?" Jay asked.

You coughed and then wiped your mouth. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry about your hat. I just- I don't like blood and that was nasty."

"I know. I think everyone's going to Med, so we'll run to the bathroom so we can throw away my hat now and you can rinse out your mouth. I think I have gum in my truck."

"Okay. Be glad I had the smart idea to puke into that hat, though. Or else it probably would've gone on you."

"Yeah, but I lost a nice hat in the process," Jay said as he rolled his eyes and you two made your way towards the bathrooms.

***

"It's necrotizing fasciitis," Will said. Everyone looked at him with a blank expression.

"Flesh-eating bacteria," you supplied.

"Wow, where'd you learn that, Short Stack?" Will asked.

"Can you not call me that? I'm eighteen! And, I learned it by watching Untold Stories of the ER."

"Junior doctor on our hands I think, Jay. And, you're still shorter than me and Jay so I can call you that, thank you very much."

"After her puking just at the sight of that, yeah, no way she's becoming a doctor," Jay said. "Anyway, the victim?"

"Right, sorry. Your victim had necrotizing fasciitis, more commonly known as, as Y/N said, flesh-eating bacteria. And, don't worry, it's not contagious. Only about four in a million people get it each year," Will explained.

"So, how do you get nec..." Kelly trailed off, not knowing the correct pronunciation.

"Necrotizing fasciitis. It enters through a break in the skin and just destroys the tissue under the epidermis. It--"

"The epidermis is the first layer of the skin," you said, reciting something you had learned in your biology class.

"Yes, it's the first layer of skin. But, as I was saying, it would really help us treat this guy if we knew who he was," Will finished after your interruption.

"I can't open a case file without a crime," Jay started, "but I'll see if I can run prints and check traffic cam footage. Maybe make out some sort of ID."

After a few minutes, everyone's panic had died down and you and Kelly were sitting down next to each other. He was trying to explain football to you even though you really couldn't care less. Meanwhile, Jay was about to make a phone call when Will motioned him over.

"Yeah?" Jay asked.

"You or Y/N have any contact with the victim? And, if you did, do you or her have any breaks in the skin?" Will asked, clearly worried about his younger siblings.

"No, we didn't have any contact. Just had Y/N puke in my hat I let her borrow," Jay answered.

"Okay, good. But, as I said, necrotizing fasciitis is rare, so you two should be fine. I gotta get back, but call if you find out anything on the victim."

"Will do. Remember to wear your gloves." Will rolled his eyes. "What? You just said it enters through breaks in the skin."

"You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

"One of my many talents."

***

"Hey, I'm leaving," Jay told you around noon the next day, poking his head into your bedroom while you stared at your lab lectures, trying to remember all the diagrams and pictures you'd need to help you identify body parts on your next lab practical.

"Okay, I'm going to the lab around 2:00 to study. That way I can actually see that stuff as I'll see it on the lab practical," you told him, not even looking up from your notes.

"Okay, be safe." He picked up Beary, who was leaning up against a pillow next to you, in a graduation gown and cap outfit. "Beary, can you make sure she takes breaks?" Then, his voice changed into his baby voice, what he always pretended was Beary's voice. "Oh, yes, Jay. I'll make sure she takes breaks while you're gone."

You laughed and reached out and took Beary from him. "Get outta here, you goon."

"Love you, too!" Jay called as he left your room.

You fixed Beary's cap and set him down, remembering when you got the outfit for him as you stared at diagrams.

"You ready, graduate?" Jay asked as he knocked on your door.

"Jay, I swear to God if you call me graduate one more time..." you said as you opened the door.

"You'll what?" he taunted.

"You know what, I don't know, but you won't like it. Are my bobbi pins noticeable?" you asked, referring to the bobbi pins you had pinned down to keep your blue graduation cap in place.

"Nope. You're good. Ready?"

"Ready."

You walked into the kitchen, to be met with Will. And behind him on the kitchen table was a vase of blue and white flowers, which were your school colors, and Beary leaning up against said flowers, wearing a blue graduation cap and gown. Just like you.

You laughed. "I cannot believe you guys."

"Hey," Will started, "Beary got a little backpack on your first day of kindergarten. Only fair that he gets a cap and gown on your graduation."

"Did you use the gift card from Mom?" you asked, referring to the one you had found in the letters to each of you that Will had found when you were cleaning out your dad's house after he died.

"We did," Jay confirmed. "Now, I need you to hold Beary in one hand and hold this picture." He handed you a photo of you with your little backpack on and Beary with his that your mom had taken of you on the front porch on your first day of kindergarten, right before Jay had surprised you by coming home from deployment early.

"Why do I need both?" you asked curiously.

"I saw this thing on Pinterest--"

"Wait!" Will exclaimed. "You have a Pinterest?"

"No," Jay scoffed. "But Hailey does. And she sent me a picture of something she thought you should do for your graduation pictures. You hold up a picture of you on your first day of school when you were little while you're wearing your cap and gown and then I take a picture of you. Since Beary was in that picture, I thought he could be in this one, too."

You grabbed Beary and allowed him to take the pictures. Now it was time to tell the news to your mom and dad.

***

"You won't believe what Will and Jay decided they just needed to get me," you said as you stood in front of your parents' headstone with Beary hidden behind your back. Will and Jay were over by a big tree talking amongst themselves so you could have some privacy. You pulled Beary from behind your back. "They got me a cap and gown for him because they said it was only fair because Beary got a backpack on my first day of school. And, since it's my last day of school, he should get a cap and gown, too.

"Also, which one of you called Will and Jay graduate all day on the day of their graduation? Because Jay won't stop calling me that and it's kinda getting on my nerves. Pretty sure it was you, Mom."

You sighed. "I wish you guys were here. Jay told me all about how you made him a special breakfast when he graduated and then went out for lunch before the actual graduation because the senior all-nighter was after. I don't know where we're going for our senior all-nighter, but I hope it's not boring. I've heard that a few years ago, some kids said theirs was super boring. I really don't want that. But, I'm glad that I could convince Will and Jay not to be chaperones for whatever my senior all-nighter is. I love them and all, but they can be a bit too overprotective at times.

"God, you guys should be here. Dad, I know you weren't the best, but you were trying. And, I'm sure if Mom was here, she'd make sure you behaved, because Mom would say it was a big day and that you couldn't be arguing with Jay." You laughed. "I can only imagine what it would look like with Jay on one side of you, Mom, and Dad on the other and you scolding both of them for fighting. Then, they'd both probably sit back and cross their arms. And, because of this, you'd probably say that I'm your favorite child."

"Alright," Jay laughed as he and Will made their way back to you. "I think it's time to go. We don't want to miss your graduation."

"You know none of us really care about the ceremony, right?" you asked, blinking back tears so that you wouldn't mess up your makeup.

"We know. It's mostly for the parents...or in your case, brothers," Will said.

You pulled out four flowers, two blue and two white, which you had taken from the bouquet that Will had placed on the kitchen table back at home, from the pockets in your dress underneath your graduation gown. "Give me one more minute."

You placed two flowers, one of each color, on top of your Mom's name and your Dad's name on the headstone. "I thought you two should have some, too. They're my school colors." You wiped your eyes as you felt a few tears prick them. "Remember to clap for me from heaven when I walk across that stage, okay?"

You took a deep shaky breath and turned back around. Will wrapped an arm around you as the three of you walked back to Jay's truck. Beary hung from your hand. In three hours, you'll have graduated high school.

You were taken out of your thoughts by your phone ringing. It was the coffee shop you worked at. And, no, it was not the one in your apartment building. But, Jay and other members of Intelligence did sometimes come in there to pick up coffee for them and the rest of the unit. This was only because they knew they'd get the friends and family discount since you worked there. But, they usually tipped you well, so you didn't mind.

Your manager asked you to come into work because someone couldn't come in. As much as you needed to study for your biology lab practical, you needed money for college more. And, you could always go to the lab tomorrow to practice for your lab practical. You also had Will. What good was having a doctor in the family if not to help you with your science homework? So, you decided to pick up the extra shift making coffee.

***

"Voight," Hank Voight said as he answered his phone.

"Hank, it's Wallace Boden. I need you to come down to the CCU science lab right now."

"Why?"

"Because Severide just told me that the victim at Soldier Field yesterday kept chanting BRT. This place is owned by BRT Labs. And, there was a fire set."

"You're thinking arson? You know we don't investigate that, Wallace."

"I know. Office of Fire Investigation is already on it."

"But, you think that the victim yesterday and the fire today could be connected?" Voight asked.

"I think it's highly possible. All I ask is that you come down here, maybe take a look inside, do some interviews, stuff you normally would do."

"Alright. I'll grab Halstead and Upton and we'll head down there."

"Thank you."

Voight hung up his phone and turned to his team, all of whom were knee-deep in paperwork after taking off yesterday to see the Bears game...which they didn't even get to see in the end. "Chief Boden needs some of us down at the CCU lab. There could be a connection--"

"Did you say the CCU lab?" Jay asked, standing up from his chair.

"Yes, Halstead, Upton, you're with me. The rest of you, stay here. We'll let you know if we need you or you need to look up information here." Voight looked to Jay who looked like he'd seen a ghost. "Halstead, we're going."

"Y/N's at the lab."

"It's Saturday," Hailey pointed out. "There's no classes on Saturdays."

"She said she was going there to study for a test. Oh, God. What if--"

"Jay," Hailey said as she walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. "You just need to call or text her on the way there. She'll be okay. C'mon, let's go."

"Atwater, come with me," Voight said. "Just in case Jay's gotta go."

***

You finally took your fifteen-minute break after being swamped for a good half hour straight. Who knew so many people wanted coffee at four in the afternoon? The first thing you saw were seven missed calls and texts in all caps. They were all from Jay.

"What the hell?" you muttered as you pressed Jay's contact and brought your phone to your ear. He picked up on the first ring. "Why are you--"

"Where are you? The firefighters said they haven't seen you come out yet," he rushed out.

"I'm at work. What firefighters? What are you talking about, Jay?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows together.

"You're at work?" Jay asked. "I thought you were going to school to study?"

"I was. But, then my manager called me in. Why? What happened?"

Jay felt so much relief wash over him that he almost fell over in the grass on the CCU campus. "There was a fire in the lab."

"What? Are my friends okay? Did anyone die?" you rushed out. They weren't totally your friends, more your classmates, but you figured that was the easiest thing to call them.

"As far as I know, there weren't any fatalities."

You breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, okay, good."

"Just do me a favor: next time your plans change, text me."

"I can't promise I can remember that."

"Figures. But, I gotta go. Stay safe."

***

"Son of a bitch!" Jay yelled and threw his phone on the couch just as you entered your apartment after finishing your closing shift at the coffee shop.

"What?" you asked as you shut the door and then set your keys down and took off your hat.

"Hailey's in quarantine," he told you. "And it's all my fault."

"What? It's your fault? How'd it even happen? Why are people being quarantined?"

"Turns out that necro thing isn't as rare as Will told us."

"Jay, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Uh, there were a bunch of people at an apartment building who got the disease, so Will and others are there looking for a thing that somebody says they saw spraying the building. Could've been this exterminator person was trying to poison people in the building," Jay told you. "And now everyone in the building is quarantined at Med."

"And Hailey was in the apartment building...?" you asked, not knowing what this had to do with Hailey.

"I had her go to a house to talk to someone who was in the lab the same time as the victim. She, uh, the girl Hailey was talking to, fell over and she had the infection and Hailey touched her.

"Hailey had a hangnail or something—at least, that's the info that Will got from Natalie, and Will passed it on to me—so now she's in quarantine at Med. If I wouldn't have told her to go check out the lead, then maybe she wouldn't be in quarantine right now."

"Jay," you started, "you can't blame yourself. If it wasn't Hailey, it would've been you. Then you'd be quarantining at Med right now. And if it wasn't you or Hailey, it would've been someone else from Intelligence and then they'd be in quarantine right now."

"How did you get so mature?"

"Trauma."

Jay's expression immediately changed. "What? Y/N, if you need someone to talk to, I can get you that."

You laughed. "Jay, chill. It's a psych major joke...even though I know I really shouldn't be joking about trauma no matter what."

"Okay, good. Do you want to watch a movie?"

"I mean, I guess. What are we watching? And, I'm gonna make popcorn, too."

"Okay. We can watch anything but Contagion," Jay told you.

"What's Contagion?"

"It's about this virus that breaks out all over a city...much like what's happening now."

"Oooh, now I want to watch it."

"I knew I shouldn't have said anything."

***

"Hello?" you said into the phone the next afternoon when Mama Garcia called you. Jay was out working the case, Will was trying to find a cure for this bacterial strain, and Hailey was out of quarantine because she was cleared by Natalie. So, Jay wasn't blaming himself anymore.

You quickly spoke Spanish with Mama Garcia and she asked if you could come in because they got a huge catering order last minute and she needed someone to man the cash register while she helped in the back making the order. You agreed and made your way to Mama Garcia's.

***

You were busy working the cash register and speaking Spanish with the friendly customers when you started hearing yelling outside, something about MS-13. You excused yourself and made your way to the back where Mama Garcia was working on tamales.

"They're saying something about MS-13 out there," you told her in Spanish.

"I'm going to need you to say that in English, chica," she told you. "I think you said it wrong because you just mentioned MS-13," she said as she wiped her hands on her apron.

"No, they're saying crazy stuff," you began. "They're chanting that you're part of MS-13. You can't hear it?"

"It's loud back here. Maybe I'll hear it if I go to the front."

She came to the front with you where some customers were leaving the building through the side entrance to get away from the mob. There weren't any customers left in the little restaurant anymore.

"Dios mio," she whispered.

There had to have been at least two dozen or more people outside all yelling and saying that she was to blame for the bacteria. Some even held signs. Some had guns or sharp objects.

You pulled out your phone. "I'm calling--"

You stopped when you heard a crash. You barely had time to register what was happening as the Molotov cocktail flew through the window and shattered everywhere, lighting the place on fire and sending shards of glass everywhere, some ending up lodged in your leg as you screamed in fear and pain.

***

The men and women of Firehouse 51 got a call of a public disturbance at Mama Garcia's. As they pulled up, they saw the Molotov cocktail fly right through the front window towards you and Mama Garcia. Casey started barking out orders and everyone sprang into action.

You were inside and the smoke was getting thicker. Whatever they made this out of actually worked. You pulled your shirt up to your nose and mouth to try and stop inhaling it, but it didn't work very well.

You had been in front of Mama Garcia at the time it was thrown through the window, so you took most of the glass shards. This caused you so much pain that it was hard for you to move through the kitchen and to the door to get out.

"Fire department! Call out!" you heard Stella yell as you kept trying to walk toward the back door.

"Here!" you yelled.

"Fire department! Call out!"

"Back here! Help! Help!"

You heard heavy footsteps coming toward you and then you saw a firefighter and you felt a hand wrap around you.

"Hang on. You're gonna get out of here." Stella. "Casey," she said into her radio. "I need some help in here. Female victim, trouble walking, in the back in what looks like the kitchen."

"Copy. Coming in, Kidd."

About thirty seconds later you were picked up and told to close your eyes. You did, and it was only when you finally got outside, did Truck 81 realize who they had rescued.

***

Will was currently working in the lab trying to find an antidote to this terrible outbreak. But, something about Dr. Seldon was suspicious. He wasn't a detective like his younger brother, but he still trusted his gut.

Dr. Seldon hadn't noticed that Will was still in the lab when he started pouring chemicals into the samples. Now Will knew something was most definitely wrong.

"What are you doing?" he asked loudly, startling Dr. Seldon.

"Oh, these are contaminated samples," he answered easily like he had rehearsed what he was going to say.

Will pointed directly at him. "No. You know what? You need to stay right here."

Then, Seldon threw a punch and Will caught it easily. But, then Seldon hit him again in the stomach. In the split second that Will was doubled over, Seldon picked up a microscope and cold-cocked Will right over the head, causing him to fall to the ground as everything went black and he clutched his bleeding head.

***

Hailey was now back in the bullpen after being quarantined because she got checked out and everything was fine. She had to tell Jay to stop apologizing and that it wasn't his fault he had gotten into that mess.

"That's a blue hat, right before 2:00," Ruzek said as he looked at the security footage.

"Wait, I know this guy," Jay started. "He works at the CCU lab." His eyes widened as he realized what was going on. "He's with Will. We gotta go now!"

As Jay was sprinting out of the bullpen, his phone started ringing.

"Man, your phone!" Adam yelled.

"Just let it go to voice-mail!" Jay yelled as he ran down the stairs, not knowing that it was Casey calling him to let him know that they had pulled you out of a fire and you were currently being treated at Med.

***

You rubbed your eyes as you woke up a few hours later. You didn't know if it was the meds the nurse gave you to knock you out so she could pull the shards of glass out of your body or if it was from a combination of smoke inhalation and tiredness. Whatever the reason, you were awake now.

You turned to see your brothers and were very confused to see that Will was holding an ice pack to his head and Jay looked like he had gotten new stitches in his forearm.

"The hell--" You roughly cleared your throat. "The hell happened to you two?"

"We found the guy," Jay told you. "But, not before he cold-cocked Will over the head with a microscope."

"Who was he?" you asked.

"A professor at CCU. Dr. Seldon."

"I've heard of him. I think he only teaches graduate classes though, so I'd never end up being in one of his classes anyway. I'm assuming he's not teaching anymore?"

"Not a chance in hell," Jay confirmed. "If he wants to teach, he can teach all the other prisoners at Stateville."

"What happened to your arm?"

"Oh, you know him," Will began. "He's always putting other people's safety in front of his own like the idiot he is." Jay thought about smacking his older brother upside the head but decided against it only because he had just been hit in the head. "He decided that he'd rather be infected with the bacteria instead of the people in a conference room where Seldon was. So, he cut himself."

"You what? Do you have the bacteria?" you asked as your eyes widened in fear.

"No, I don't. Hailey shot in there to distract him and then I disarmed him. Will came in with the antidote anyway, but luckily we didn't need to use it."

"If Hailey got paid overtime every time she saved your ass, she'd never have to work again."

"Tell me about it," Jay agreed.

"Now, what happened to you?" Will asked. "Casey told us you were at Mama Garcia's?"

"Yeah, she called and asked me to run the front since she needed to be in the back to help work on a catering order. I went in and an hour later, there were all these protesters outside calling her a member of MS-13 and saying she started the outbreak."

"How?" Jay wondered. "Mama Garcia's like the sweetest lady alive."

"I don't know. Because people online are crazy? And then someone threw a flaming bottle of something through the window."

"And that's how the glass got in your leg?" Will asked. You nodded. "Well, the good news is that Maggie told me the damage was artificial. The reason you passed out was because of smoke inhalation. They gave you some oxygen and you're good to go once you're ready."

"Then why don't I have one of those nose thingies in?" you asked.

"A nasal cannula?" Will chuckled. You nodded. "It's because you slept long enough with it on that your oxygen is back up. And, the paramedics gave you oxygen, too. That's why you don't need it. Your levels are back to normal."

"Oh. Okay."

"You want your discharge paperwork?" Will asked.

"Yeah, Jay's gotta fill it out."

"Nope. You are not a minor anymore. So, you get to fill out your own paperwork."

You groaned as he handed you the clipboard with the paperwork on it. Now you knew why both Jay and Will hated paperwork so much. There was so much even for one little thing!

"You know, I think since you've achieved frequent flyer status at Med," Will began, "that Beary needs a hospital gown, too."

"No! Don't you dare!"

"Just write it down and give it to her for Christmas," Jay joked. But honestly, when it came to that bear and presents, you never knew if either of them was joking or not.

Everything seemed back to normal at that moment: Jay and Will joking about your Build-A-Bear, you and Jay constantly being in the hospital for whatever reason and life. Life was back to normal after this crazy weekend that had everyone in Chicago on edge and you couldn't be happier.

A/N: Idk how I feel about this one. There was so much going on in that crossover, that it was hard for me to figure out what I wanted to focus on...so, it turned into a shorter imagine. Anyway, thank you guys so, so much for reading! I also start my new job tomorrow, so updates might be a little less frequent (one or two a week, depending on how long the imagines are and how much I have to work). Anyway, please like/reblog and comment and tell me what you think! As always, if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88

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jvwhyte · 3 years ago

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SJM's pinterest board. ACOTAR 6/7.

(No conclusion just suspicious stuff lmao)

Here's a photo i found on SJM's ACOTAR pinterest board:

THE MOIRAI (Moirae) were the three goddesses of fate who personified the inescapable destiny of man (and women). The role of the Moirai was to ensure that every being, mortal and divine, lived out their destiny as it was assigned to them by the laws of the universe.

In nearly all mythologies the three Fates, rulers of the past, present and future, are represented and many believe they symbolize the Triple Goddess, Virgin, Mother and Crone (Creator, Preserver and Destroyer).

In Greek mythology, the Moirai—often known in English as the Fates—were the white-robed incarnations of destiny.

“There were at least three dozen priestesses who worked and researched and healed here, though it was nearly impossible to count them when they all wore the same pale robes and so many kept the hoods over their faces.”

Clotho (/ˈkloʊθoʊ/, Greek Κλωθώ, [klɔːtʰɔ̌ː], "spinner") spun the thread of life from her distaff onto her spindle.

(Clotho: the mute priestess at the library)

Lachesis (/ˈlækɪsɪs/, Greek Λάχεσις, [lákʰesis], "allotter" or drawer of lots) measured the thread of life allotted to each person with her measuring rod.

Atropos (/ˈætrəpɒs/, Greek Ἄτροπος, [átropos], "inexorable" or "inevitable", literally "unturning",[13] sometimes called Aisa) was the cutter of the thread of life. She chose the manner of each person's death; and when their time was come, she cut their life-thread with "her abhorred shears". The figure who came to be known as Atropos had her origins in the pre-Greek Mycenaean religion as a daemon or spirit called Aisa. Another important Mycenaean philosophy stressed the subjugation of all events or actions to destiny and the acceptance of the inevitability of the natural order of things; today this is known as fatalism.

The Morrígan or Mórrígan, also known as Morrígu, is a figure from Irish mythology. The name is Mór-Ríoghain in Modern Irish, and it has been translated as "great queen" or "phantom queen".

The Morrígan is mainly associated with war and fate, especially with foretelling doom, death or victory in battle. In this role she often appears as a crow, the badb.[1] She incites warriors to battle and can help bring about victory over their enemies. The Morrígan encourages warriors to do brave deeds, strikes fear into their enemies, and is portrayed washing the bloodstained clothes of those fated to die.[2][3] She is most frequently seen as a goddess of battle and war and has also been seen as a manifestation of the earth- and sovereignty-goddess,[4][5] chiefly representing the goddess's role as guardian of the territory and its people.[6][7]

Mor may derive from an Indo-European root connoting terror, monstrousness cognate with the Old English maere (which survives in the modern English word "nightmare") and the Scandinavian mara and the Old East Slavic "mara" ("nightmare");[14] while rígan translates as "queen".[15][16] This etymological sequence can be reconstructed in the Proto-Celtic language as *Moro-rīganī-s.[17][18] Accordingly, Morrígan is often translated as "Phantom Queen".[16] This is the derivation generally favoured in current scholarship.[19]

The Morrígan is often considered a triple goddess, but this triple nature is ambiguous and inconsistent. The triple appearances are partially due to the Celtic significance of threeness.

(Three is a VERY common number in acotar (might make a whole other post on that))

Could Mor be one of the fates or even something more powerful than them, could she have a bigger part than we thought in the next story with Koschei ?

In the Republic of Plato, the three Moirai sing in unison with the music of the Seirenes. The term "siren song" refers to an appeal that is hard to resist but that, if heeded, will lead to a bad conclusion.

In Greek mythology, the Sirens (Ancient Greek: plural: Seirênes) were dangerous creatures, who lured nearby sailors with their enchanting music and singing voices to shipwreck on the rocky coast of their island. It is also said that they can even charm the winds.

i bet your thinking where tf is this looney going with this....well,

i also found this photo:

Celtic Mythology The GWRAGEDD ANNWN [wives of the underworld]were lake-sirens in Wales. These lovely creatures are known to choose mortal men as their husbands. One legend has it that they live in a sunken city in one of the many lakes in Wales. People claim to have seen towers under water and heard the chiming of bells. In earlier times, there used to be a door in a rock and those who dared enter through it came into a beautiful garden situated on an island in the middle of a lake. In this garden there were luscious fruits, beautiful flowers and the loveliest music, besides many other wonders. Those brave enough to enter were welcomed by the Gwragedd Annwn and were invited to stay as long as they wanted, on the condition that they never took anything back from the garden. One visitor ignored the rule and took a flower home with him. As soon as he left the island, the flower disappeared and he fell unconscious to the ground. From that day on, the door has been firmly closed and none has ever passed through it again.

“My grandmother was a river-nymph who seduced a High Fae male from the Autumn Court.”

Gwyn believes her grandmother to be a river-nymph. Is it possible that she was not but instead a lake siren? We know that Gwyn and Catrin's names are welsh (Lake-Sirens are found in wales) and the spring court has many ties to welsh mythology so is it really that far fetched?

In Celtic and Norse mythology, selkies (also spelled silkies, sylkies, selchies) or selkie folk (Scots: selkie fowk) meaning "seal folk"[a] are mythological beings capable of therianthropy, changing from seal to human form by shedding their skin. They are found in folktales and mythology originating from the Northern Isles of Scotland.

To further back up this, here is another photo of a Selkie woman on SJM's pinterest.

In David Thomson's book The People of the Sea, which chronicles the extensive legends surrounding the Grey Seal within the folklore of rural Scottish and Irish communities, it is the children of male selkies and human women that have webbed toes and fingers. When the webbing is cut, a rough and rigid growth takes its place.

Children born between man and seal-folk may have webbed hands, as in the case of the Shetland mermaid whose children had "a sort of web between their fingers",[25] or "Ursilla" rumoured to have children sired by a male selkie, such that the children had to have the webbing between their fingers and toes made of horny material clipped away intermittently.

“My twin had the webbed fingers of the nymphs—I don’t.”

Once again we see that Catrin posses traits of these water-creatures.

Keep in mind SJM has this on her board - The cover of Celtic folktales which has one story in particular of a 'sea-maiden' whom makes a deal with a mortal man.

I proceeded to continue searching through the board and found this:

Sathariel (Hebrew סתריאל, Greek: Σαθιήλ) is one of the Qliphoth, corresponding to the Sephirah Binah on the kabbalistic Tree of life. It represents the Concealment of God, which hides the face of Mercy. The form of the demons attached to this Qliphah are of black veiled heads with horns, with hideous eyes seen through the veil, followed by evil centaurs.

'veiled heads with horns'

The Qliphoth are the shadow of the Sephirot, the chaotic force that exists when the Sephirah is unbalanced. Binah is the Sephirah that gives birth to form, the great mother of the cosmos, the eternal womb. Through her, the spiritual energy of Keter and Chokmah are woven into the matrix that eventually becomes matter.

In Jewish Kabbalistic cosmology of Isaac Luria, the qlippot are metaphorical "shells" surrounding holiness. They are spiritual obstacles receiving their existence from God only in an external, rather than internal manner.

Quiphoth (shadow of sephriot) = Shadowsinger

"shells" surrounding holiness = The shadows protected Azriel

They emerge in the descending seder hishtalshelus (Chain of Being) through Tzimtzum (contraction of the Divine Ohr), as part of the purpose of Creation.

Sathariel had black feathers on his wings and his body was shrouded in darkness.

Honestly idk where tf im going with this 😩😩

I've put in far too much effort to delete it so i apologise if you've gotten all this way to be disappointed but

Conclusion:

Mor =/≠ Three fates

Gwyn = Heritage is sus? could be related to some interesting people

Azriel = Sathariel ?

If anyone has ideas to add pleaseeee tell me lol

i'll probably update this when i can be bothered

(FYI i love Gwyn and i'm not saying she's a siren or luring anyone but you've got to admit her grandmother is a sus lmao, especially with half the shit on SJM's pinterest.)

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shinystars-stuff · 2 years ago

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Hello everyone. It has been 9 months.

I apologize for no longer posting but my mood for Tumblr came to a downhill and so I just stopped posting. I moved on to Twitter, YouTube, TikTok, Pinterest, and Discord.

Well… let’s just say… I’m doing a shit ton better on those platforms.

I came back today and only today to update you guys on how much my life has changed.

So nine months ago… that was before I graduated, which would mean that would be February. Jesus, this is about to be long.

So February 28th of this year, I ended a one-year relationship with a boy only to get with someone else. Now, keep in mind that both of these relationships were online. When I got with the new boy, my behavior and actions started to change. We tended to fight a lot and I made him upset quite a lot just as he made me upset. Well, July 18th, he had enough of my lying and my behavior that he broke up with me. Oh yeah, I skipped something important. I graduated on May 28th! 👩‍🎓👩‍🎓

I was pretty upset over the breakup and I stayed single for a while until drama happened and I got with somebody else. I realized how stupid I was and I called off the relationship. My family situation has worsened. A few months ago, my brother officially came back to live with us after his girlfriend cheated on him. He’s been a total pain in the ass, btw.

Me and my brother hardly get along, but the good news is that we are semi-bonding now these days. My mom’s leg situation has worsened for she can hardly stand up now these days. My uncle… he got a rare disease and might not be making it for much longer, plus I’ve lost a lot of family members as of late. I luckily have my Switch to keep me distracted and well organized.

Well- after I graduated high school, I found out that I have social anxiety. I was placed on an anti-depressant pill and bumped up more on my ADHD medication. My parents have been nagging at me to get a job, but with the shit I see happening in life today, plus the things I hear from my family, why would I even want to work in a society like this?! Also, my whole family thinks they have the right to say that I should get a job when I take the fucking trash out, I get shit like drinks and stuff for them, I bring in all the god damn groceries, I check on them everyday. I do the shit willingly and never get asked to be fucking paid!

Let’s uh- change the topic for now. So- well- I’m still making videos and stuff. However, my original TikTok got banned over a dispute with a best friend and uh- I lost three friends by them ghosting me. My videos have actually really improved. In fact, I have them right here.

Well, I only have this one, but this is my biggest and longest working one. This one took me three hours. I mostly make edits on TikTok but on Discord, I have a little roleplay server :3

My Twitter and YouTube, plus Twitter stays quiet most of the time because usually I’ll just scroll and save videos and stuff on the platforms.

My proudest moment and my best moment of this year is this photo right above this. If you don’t know who that is, that is me and a VO actor known as Bob Carter. Bob Carter is in many animes, but when I looked at the top of his poster, my world changed. As you know, I am a huge Fullmetal Alchemist fan and the character he played was Izumi’s husband, Sig Curtis.

I was legit amazed and he was absolutely friendly. I asked him for a hug and he gladly accepted it because I told him I had watched the anime a million times. I really wanted to show him an FMA edit I made, but I was too excited to show him. I even got to meet the singer for Sailor Moon, only to look later and find out that Bob photobombed it XD

So yeah, even though I’ve gone through a lot of shit this year, I’ve had a pretty good year. Anyways, I think I’m going to go ahead and finish off the post here.

Thank you guys for supporting me on Tumblr. If you wish to add me on Discord or anything, my Tumblr ask-box and messages are still open, so feel free to. I love you guys. Thank you for giving me a home.

#arcane #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fma #sailor moon #edit #arcane edit #life #update

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hrt-makeup · 3 years ago

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Why don't you credit the original people who you steal photos from? I'm only using the word steal because absolutely no credit is given.

Hi!

I actually haven't "stolen" anything.

I've said this before, and I'll say it again I suppose; This is simply a blog where I share makeup photos I found on other websites such as pinterest or weheartit (where there often is no credit given, therefore I don't know who originally took or posted the photos). When I *do* know who the makeup artist is, I tag them in my posts.

Also, I have never once claimed any of these photos to be mine, except for the photos that *are* mine.

Sorry that you feel so angered by this blog (assuming you're the same anon who continuously harasses me about this topic). I only originally made this blog to put all the photos I find together to serve as inspiration for myself and for anyone else who chooses to view it.

Anyway, hope this post helped clear things up! :)

<3 Haley

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mackfm · 3 years ago

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𝙼𝙰𝙲𝙺'𝚂 𝙱𝙴𝙳𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙼 : she currently occupies the remodeled attic in her grandparent’s house. not because they don’t have space for her or anything- in fact, there is a guest bedroom downstairs, but rather the attic has been a staple in her life and times in woodstock and she finds great comfort in that. it’s where she swore a monster once lived and spent all summer before starting middle school trying to prove its existence, through its single window is where she’s seen and wished on multiple shooting stars, and it’s where she laid when she listened to the very first record she bought from high volume. so a year ago when her annual visit turned out to be a permanent stay ( for the foreseeable future ), she dragged an old mattress up there and settled in happily. it just fits her and makes her feel at home.

random things to note : transforming the space from an extra storage room to a suitable bedroom took months. it’s normally hot as shit up there but she makes do by cracking the window open or using an oscillating fan. mack was originally not very prepared to move from one state to another so a lot of her personal belongings stayed in louisiana - her mom shipped some of the important stuff over but for the most part mack’s room is decorated with antique furniture from her grandparent’s shop and knick knacks she’s collected over the last year or so.

* i encourage you to check out the pinterest section i made to see the complete ✨vibe ✨

𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚎'𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚔 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚎𝚛?

extra incense sticks, a lighter for aforementioned incense sticks, materials needed to make jewelry, unsent letters, extra batteries that have varying amounts of juice left in them, her rock collection of four uniquely shaped pebbles, who knows what else.

𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎, 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝟸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖?

at least some of her crystal collection & the single photo evidence she’s taken of “ghost orbs”.

𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜?

some fairy lights that give the whole room a warm glow once the sun goes down. the iconic “i want to believe” poster, among others. a tapestry displaying “the sun” tarot card. a few polaroids of abandon places she’s visited over the years. keeps some of her necklaces on a few hooks on the wall closets to her vanity.

𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚝?

she keeps things tidy for the most part - makes her bed daily and what not. does a deep cleaning once a month as her grandmother has instilled in her that it’s important to cleanse one’s space during a full moon.

𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎?

potentially some old embarrassing baby photos that she found when she was originally cleaning out the space to be her room. also the excessive amount of conspiracy theory books she owns simply because she doesn’t want any nonbelievers to think she’s actually insane.

𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚍𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎?

a rock salt lamp, whatever book she’s reading at the time, a half empty tea cup, a photo of her family, her pager when it isn’t hooked on to her person.

#volumetask #credit to deadassdahmer on deviantart ! a link to the template is in the source link !

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angelaiswriting · 4 years ago

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The Assistant (15 of ?) | Vladimir Ranskahov x fem!reader

[original picture found on: pinterest]

✏️ Pairings:

(almost official) Vladimir Ranskahov x fem!reader

Anatoly Ranskahov x OC (Paulina) mentioned

✏️ Requested by @kellydixon01 : Y/N–hacker, big mouth, even bigger attitude–is the new addition to Fisk’s team. Sent to help the Ranskahovs, she immediately gets on Vladimir’s nerves. But as time passes, they start to take a liking to each other, even if none of them is willing to admit their feelings. Yet.

✏️ Previously on The Assistant (aka I’m shit at updating): Y/N has moved in with Vladimir and the two have found themselves growing closer. There’s only one problem: Vlad’s old friend Ulyana thinks the two are a couple and has invited them over for dinner to celebrate.

✏️ A/N: y’all. Y’ALL. First off, I just want to apologize, it’s been forever and a month since I updated this; I’m not even sure there are still people reading/that remember this story apart from Alice lol. It took us me 144 pages !!! but it’s finally happening. Enjoy! I literally cried when I wrote the end of this chapter because it was about fucking time!

✏️ Warnings: fluff; and tears, but those were mine as I wrote this lol; Sergei has a doggie!; a smidge of swearing.

✏️ Word-count: 6,060

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: MATCHMAKER

Sitting on the closed toilet seat with the pipe wrench still in his hands, Vladimir could hear Y/N and Ulyana laugh in the living room. He couldn’t make out their words, for their voices were quiet despite their hilarity, and the left-ajar door of the bathroom didn’t help him any.

The most surreal situation I’ve ever experienced, that’s how Y/N had labeled it less than an hour ago, before he helped Lina bring in the tray with the cups of tea. And the more he mulled things over, the more he found himself agreeing. The most surreal situation I’ve ever experienced – and he had lived through plenty of what could be considered ‘weird shit’. Ulyana in general had been a whole exception in his book. Ulyana, with her afternoons spent playing bingo at the daily center for the elderly with all her old-lady friends; Ulyana, with her borscht and her endless words of encouragement and comfort when both he and Tolya had needed them the most.

But also Ulyana, so dead-set on the idea that he was too stiff and needed a gentle touch in his life that she just… mistook Y/N for his woman. As if he needed someone! But it was still a good thing in a way, though, he reasoned as he stood up and moved to stand in front of the sink to stare at his reflection. And probably his brother was right about the fact that he had to open up to her, tell her what he felt – and what he was scared of. And just… try, for once. Make an effort to take his private life into his own hands instead of just wasting it away on cigarettes and underground fights.

As he stood there, hands gripping the sink, wrench abandoned on the counter, he tried to focus on what existed beyond that scar on the right side of his face and all it meant. By now he was convinced that she didn’t see it – not because she didn’t want to, but because she was able to see right through it. She knew about his past, and not just about Utkin, but also about some of the stupid things he had done in his short-lived youth – he had told her about that over vodka, a bit more rarely over coffee. And while he had always had problems with that, he found himself having fewer and fewer now.

Yeah, maybe it wasn’t that bad to pretend he had someone that cared about him, and while that equaled lying to Lina, maybe it was for the greater good?

It came off as a question even in his own mind, but it was one he found himself being willing to put in the time and effort to find an answer to. It was almost stupid, to think that feelings seemed to terrify him to the bone, while he could take a gun pointed at his head any day without batting an eyelash. Because that’s what he did, that’s what the target on his back felt like.

Maybe all he needed was to grow a pair, listen to what Ulyana had always told him, and walk out there a somewhat taken man.

And not taken to the demons in his head, but to someone – a friend, maybe? – that he had learned to respect. In a way, that is; that road still seemed a long one, after all.

When he joined the two women again some twenty minutes or so later, after he had fixed the kitchen cabinet Lina had been too shy to ask him to repair, he found them leafing through an old photo album. Belka – Ulyana’s old, white cat – was snoozing in Y/N’s lap, the tip of her fluffy tail moving up and down every once in a while as she purred at her new friend.

It was a weirdly cozy view, one that seemed to put all the thoughts that were still swarming his mind at ease. He leaned against the frame of the door, arms crossed in front of his chest, and he just stared for a while, half-present in the moment and half-lost in his own mind. He didn’t miss the moment her head lifted up an inch and her eyes met his, though, and before he could realize anything, he found himself smirking back.

“Ulya is showing me the photographs of her wedding day,” she said when he moved away from the door and really entered the room. Her fingers absentmindedly scratched the cat behind one ear as she maintained eye contact until he sat down at the round table in front of the window to her left.

“Those are a must-see when you step foot into her house.” His was a playful huff as he lit himself a cigarette. They had all gone back to Russian, which meant that Ulyana had gotten to know Y/N faster than he had. “Next thing you know, you’re walking down Soviet memory lane.” And then, when his eyes met Lina’s: “You know I’m joking. Tolya and I have always loved your stories.”

The woman shook her head, but there was a smile on her face that somehow warmed his heart. It meant that it was all back to normal now; that, in her heart, she had forgiven him for disappearing for so long and never, not once, calling to check in on her. “This girl’s bewitched you,” she chuckled, patting Y/N’s knee with her free hand. “I don’t remember when the last time he wasn’t serious was, anymore,” she explained as she leaned back against the couch, giving her guest’s unasked question an answer.

Vladimir scoffed and when his phone beeped on the table with a text from Sergei a moment later, he stood up. “We gotta go now. Work’s calling.”

Ulyana had a look on her face that seemed to complain On a Saturday? but she knew he was a busy man with a demanding job, and so she dropped it. “You’re both invited over tomorrow,” she said instead. “I’ll prepare a nice dinner to celebrate together.” She closed the album of photographs and put it down on the coffee table by the side of the couch.

When she stood up, Belka seemed to catch the hint: she woke up, let out a huffy meow, and jumped down from Y/N’s lap to rub herself against one of Vlad’s legs.

“There’s nothing to celebrate, Lina,” Vladimir was saying as he let the old woman fix the collar of his shirt before engulfing him in a hug.

The way her eyebrows rose when she turned to look at Y/N was almost comical on that round face of hers. “He’s still as stubborn as always, isn’t he?” she whispered in her ear when she hugged her goodbye. When she turned back towards Vladimir, she had her hands on her hips and a firm look in her eyes that he knew he couldn’t escape. “You two will come over for dinner tomorrow night if it kills you! It’s so good to see you finally happy, my boy, and not just alone as always. And if that’s not enough, I haven’t seen you in months! Is this how you treat your old Lina?”

“I can’t believe she managed to convince you.”

He was driving to Sergei’s place when Y/N spoke again. They hadn’t exchanged a word after leaving Ulyana’s apartment and truth be told, he was almost afraid to hear her speak again.

“I can’t believe it either,” he groaned, one hand gripping the steering wheel tightly while his left arm just hung out the rolled-down window.

There were heavy clouds behind the buildings in front of them and it looked like it would start pouring soon. But the slightly chilly air was a blessing after that day’s stuffy heat, so he was ready to face the early-summer bad weather when it would come.

After that exchange, the silence went back to being almost embarrassed. She was looking at him from the corner of her eye – he hadn’t missed it, he was good at noticing things about people, even though probably not as good as he thought he was when it came to her. Whether she was trying to come up with something to say or not, though, he did not know.

His own thoughts were all over the place as well.

He had a little less than one day to come up with an excuse to ring Ulyana up with just so that he could avoid that dinner date she had organized. In his heart he knew she was doing this for him: she and Aleksandr had never had children, and that’s exactly how she had always seen him and his brother ever since they had first rented that apartment on her same floor. We’re all Russians, we have to stick up for each other, she had said once, one of the first times she had insisted they’d come over for dinner. She had taken care of them; and it was remarkable, the way they had let her into their lives, one kind act at a time, in a time when the Siberian wound was still tender and they didn’t know who to trust in this new, foreign land.

Then, a little more than a year and a half ago, when Anatoly had introduced Paulina to her, it had become just Vladimir and Ulyana most of the time. Tolya was busier now – he didn’t only have his job, but there was a woman now and he did things with her, took her places, came up with things just to surprise her for the sake of it… It had been a shock at first because that was someone more similar to the old Anatoly Ranskahov, the one who had lived in Moscow and had danced around a different woman every night – with the only difference that he was now a faithful lover.

“Are you upset?” Her voice tore him out of his mind once again and he turned towards her with a questioning hmm? that prompted her to clarify. “About her thinking that we’re together.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t think I am, nyet,” he confessed eventually.

She was staring ahead, not looking at him, but a smile still blossomed on her face at his words. “If I don’t tell you now, I know I’ll never have the guts to.”

But Vladimir was already slowing down to park the car and when Y/N turned her head to see what he was staring at with such a confused expression on his face, the faint smirk on his lips already fading away completely, she knew she wouldn’t be opening her heart any time soon in that car.

“What the fuck?” was what Vlad mumbled as he hastily turned off the engine, pulled on the handbrake, and threw his door open. “What is this?”

Sergei was standing there, a black and brown rottweiler laying at his feet, panting with its tongue almost touching the asphalt in the somewhat stuffy evening air.

“This,” his friend said, slowly, shoving the handle of the leash in the other’s hand before Vlad could come back to himself, “is Sharik. I need you to look after him while I’m gone.”

Vladimir stared down at the dog, and the dog sat up against Seriozha’s legs so that he could stare back at him better. He was a big piece of meat, and he could already picture him drooling all over the couch he had back at home. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” frowned Sergei, dropping the black gym bag from his shoulder to Vlad’s feet. “I told you yesterday, before you and Y/N left the garage. If I need to go out of town for business, I won’t be able to bring him with me. You agreed to look after him for me.”

While his owner spoke, Sharik sniffed at Vladimir’s shin with curiosity, and after a long moment of scrutiny, he lazily wagged his tail in approval.

“You need to take him out in the morning and at night, he loves walks in the park.”

“What?” He wasn’t sure the type of ‘take the dog out’ he was thinking of was the one Sergei had in mind.

“Don’t feed him weird shit. His dry food is in the bag. Don’t give him more than what I wrote down – he loves to beg. And make him play before bed, or he’ll keep you up all night.”

“What?”

“Your apartment complex also has a pool and he enjoys chilling in the water, so if–”

“I won’t be looking after your dog. What?”

Before either of them could speak, Y/N’s What’s going on here? made them turn in her direction. She had gotten out of the car, and while she was still holding onto the door with one hand, Vlad knew she’d soon come forward.

“Solnyshko, hi!”

Vladimir knew he was fucked when Sergei greeted her and hugged her back when she walked up to them. He’d manage to convince her and while she was just a guest in his house, Vlad knew he’d be the one bending his will.

Sharik gave her the same treatment he had reserved for him just moments before, but he sped it up this time, and the wagging in his tail wasn’t as lazy as it had been with him – it was a hard slapping back and forth against his leg that gave him just a slight taste of the dog’s strength.

“Who’s this good boy?” she cooed as the dog sniffed the palm of her hand before giving it a lick and allowing her to pet his head.

In no time, and before he had the chance to register what was going on, Y/N had gone back to the car and, appalled, he had to watch her lead the dog onto the back seats.

As if he had read his mind, Sergei reassured him: “Don’t worry, he doesn’t shed. But you still need to keep him brushed, it relaxes him.”

He stared at the car, kept an eye on Y/N as she put Sergei’s gym bag in the trunk, and then walked back around the car to sit on the passenger seat. She was still caressing the dog, her back turned towards the two men, when Vladimir spoke.

“You know I don’t deal with animals.”

Sergei scoffed. “We deal with much worse. Now, don’t be a brat, I didn’t have to listen to the two of you singing like shit last night just to then not be able to get payback.”

“We didn’t–”

“It’s all cool, Volodya.” Serzh patted his shoulder and grinned at him before turning back to stare at the car his dog had got into. “She’s nice, I don’t mind. It was about time you found someone that would headbutt you every time you headbutted them.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about, brother. Sharik is a good matchmaker, who else do you think got Tolik and Paulina together?” he grinned. “But if he is missing even so much as a hair when I come back, we’ll have a problem.”

He scoffed. “A threat? Over a dog?”

“He’s not just some dog, Volodya. He’s my boy.” He stared him down for a moment before turning around. He had already started to walk back towards the building he lived in, when he said one last I’ll call you when Aslan and I have left the state before Vlad turned his back on him.

Just as he had expected, Sharik launched himself onto the couch the second Y/N opened the door of his apartment. The only thing Vladimir could do was watch him run across the entrance corridor, fly mid-air, and then fall heavily onto the clean cushions of his couch half a second later. And to be such a big and heavy dog, he was fast.

“I’m going to kill Sergei,” he muttered but before he could take another step forward, Y/N stopped him with a hand on his forearm.

“C’mon, he’s just a dog, Vlad. Don’t be mean. I’ll get him down,” she chuckled and toed her shoes off before walking up to Sharik.

Sometime later, after that dog had finally stopped whining and complaining that he wanted to get on the couch despite said couch’s owner didn’t want to, there was silence again.

The next-door neighbor had knocked on the door not long after they had got home: he had heard the noises, and had felt the need to complain about that sudden surprise, and to poke his nose into business he knew nothing about – There’s a pet fee you’re supposed to pay if you want to keep an animal in here. And then, when Sharik had walked up to the door and nosed his way to stand between Y/N’s legs – Vlad has seen it in the mirror hanging on the wall right at the other end of the room – that very neighbor had found something else to complain about. Its size exceeds the limits allowed in this complex, or some shit like that. He hadn’t heard what she had told the dude; all he knew was that less than five minutes after he had shown up at the door, he had left with his tail between his legs, and so Vlad had managed to go back to staring at the screen of his laptop.

He wasn’t doing anything, really. For once, he didn’t feel like burying his head into his work – everything needed for Aslan and Sergei’s trip to Florida had already been organized, and the last touches for the upcoming shipment could wait until Monday. It was very un-Vladimir-like, to take a whole weekend off, but for once, he wouldn’t complain.

What he ended up thinking about – or, rather, whom –, however, was Ulyana. He had been praying for an excuse to cancel that dinner date for the next day, but he hadn’t expected to be actually presented with one. And although he still had the intention to ring her up and apologize, he still had to pick up the phone. He couldn’t possibly leave Sergei’s dog home alone, now, could he? Or did he want to come back to a destroyed house?

“Shari’s napping.” When he looked up, not even taken by surprise by her sudden appearance in the doorframe of the kitchen, he found her standing there, leaning a shoulder against the wood and staring at him. “What are you up to?”

“Work,” was his quick reply. “Checking that everything is in order and… stuff.”

“‘And stuff’?” She didn’t seem convinced, and she stared at him for a long minute, before dismissing it and sitting opposite him at the small kitchen table. “Anyway, why didn’t you tell me about this favor you had to do for Sergei?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I didn’t know I had to look after stupid dog.” And then, when she raised an eyebrow: “A very smart, but spoiled dog. Better?”

“He’s not spoiled. Serzh just really loves him a lot,” she pouted. And when he glared at her, she continued: “This doesn’t matter, though. You have to find a solution for tomorrow night. Call Sergei and ask him how Sharik deals with cats, and then call Ulyana and ask her how Belka deals with dogs. Or something.”

“Why me?”

“Because I asked nicely? Because you got us into this?”

As it turned out a couple of calls later, Sharik was very gentle, almost submissive with cats and animals in general – despite his size, despite his face, and his breed, and the size of his paws big enough to be as big as at least three cat legs put together. And Ulyana had no problem having a dog over either – she had looked after a neighbor’s dog more times than she could count, and Belka was used to napping in her bedroom when another animal was over.

So, not a problem – as Lina had said. Just come over and bring the dog, I’ll have something ready for him too.

His plan to avoid that dinner date had miserably failed, although there was something inside him at the thought of showing up at Lina’s and pretending like he and Y/N were a thing of some sort that just… pulled at some strings he didn’t even know he had inside. And as he watched Y/N fill Sharik’s bowl just as they got ready to eat dinner, he found himself being almost happy that those strings were being pulled, for once in his life.

“So we just take him over to her place?” she asked him when she sat down, a steaming plate with rice and veggies right in front of her.

His diet had taken a turn for the better ever since she had moved in with him – he still had more vodka than was healthy to have hiding pretty much in almost all the cabinets in his apartment, but at least his fridge was full of food his body could actually digest this time.

“That’s what she said,” he grumbled.

They ate in silence after that, and only when he had done the dishes, did she speak again.

“Do you wanna settle for a story?” She was sitting next to him on the couch, with Sharik’s heavy head resting on a knee. The dog was staring at her with adoring eyes as she gently scratched behind his ears.

“A story?”

“Yeah, about how we met. How we ended up together. Ulyana asked a couple vague-ish questions this afternoon, so I think she’ll ask more tomorrow. No?” She glanced at him when he didn’t reply. “Unless you wanna tell her the truth.”

“I don’t know what I want,” he eventually confessed. “I don’t want to lie to her, but if I hear her ask me about ‘my woman’ another time, I’m going to burst.”

He didn’t expect to chuckle with her, but he did. And when they grew silent again, and she went back to staring at the TV screen after a quick Let me think of something, then, he laid his head back against the seatback of the couch, head turned in her direction, and studied the profile of her face. The way the corner of her mouth rose up into a smirk before she giggled at Sharik’s sniffing nose against her bare shin. The way her chest rose and fell with every breath she took, slow and regular and almost gentle. And before he knew it, his eyes had dropped closed and he had fallen asleep.

When he woke up sometime later – the clock on his phone signaled just a few minutes after half past eleven –, Y/N and Sharik had already left the room, and he was uncomfortably half sitting, half lying on the couch covered by a pile blanket. The TV was off, and not a sound came from inside the apartment – nor from outside in the corridor.

He briefly wondered whether Y/N had managed to come up with a story in case Ulyana would ask questions, but he barely had the time to walk into his room and sit on his bed, that his ears picked up some snoring.

There, bundled up under his blankets, was sleeping Sharik, who had somehow managed to make himself at home. He even had the audacity of staring at him with an accusatory look in his eyes, the fleabag, when Vladimir turned on the lamp on his bedside table to get a closer look.

“Get off,” he groggily ordered, yanking the covers back with a quick movement of his arm. “Get off my bed, dog.”

But for all he tried, the dog wouldn’t budge. And even when Vladimir picked him up and put him back down onto the living room floor, he barely had the time to close the door of his bedroom – something he hadn’t done since before Utkin – that Sharik was already pushing against it with his nose to slip into the room.

“You are stubborn beast, aren’t you?”

Taking him back to the living room by force didn’t help at all, for the dog wouldn’t stop bugging him. He had managed to lower the door handle twice in the half-hour Vladimir spent trying to get rid of him without… yeah, without actually getting rid of the fucking four-legged light of Sergei’s life.

When it became apparent that he wouldn’t have a good night’s sleep in his goddamn bed that night, was when Sharik almost tripped him over from behind just to then launch himself onto his bed much like he had done that evening with the couch – and the at least other ten times Vlad had tried to kick him out of the room. He laid there, on his bed, curled up like a too-big cat, staring at him with eyebrows that wouldn’t stop going up and down until he huffed out a complaint and went back to sleep.

“I’ll kill you, Sergei,” he groaned, rubbing his face with both hands to try and shoo the annoyance away.

He stood in the hallway for a while, then, eyeing the couch from the other side of the living room while mentally cursing himself. Before fixing the spare room, which he had turned into Y/N’s bedroom as the weeks had gone by, he had had to take care of his brother and by giving him his bed, he had had to get the couch. It was too small for him, and uncomfortable – and the thought that she, too, had had to sleep there for endless days before he got his shit together still stung, in a way. And since it looked like he wouldn’t be able to get Sharik out of his bedroom – nor out of his bed, for that matter –, he was left with only two options to pick from: either the couch or…

He knocked on her door before he had the time to talk himself out of it.

“Is something wrong?” She was scrolling through her phone when she told him to come in. The lamps on both nightstands were on, and it looked like she was still far from falling asleep.

“Dog’s in my bed,” he said, staring at her from across the room. “Couch is…”

“I know,” she chuckled. “Still not the worst couch I’ve slept on, though, don’t worry,” she continued when he made a weird face. “Stay in your half of the bed, and you can sleep here if you want.”

He didn’t sleep that night, however. He laid on his right side, staring at the wall, and she laid on her left, staring at the opposite wall. She had wished him good night at some point, when she had put her phone away and had turned the lights off, and he had answered with a hum. But then, he had just laid there all night, listening in on her soft breathing – and then her soft snoring – and he remained motionless. When he did fall asleep, sometime in the early morning, just before the first light of day peaked in through the curtains, his last thought was that maybe, this wasn’t that bad.

“Through mutual friends, if so one could say,” Y/N replied over celebratory vodka. Ulyana had kept her best questions for the end of the dinner and Vladimir had almost deluded himself into thinking the old woman would never ask. They had come up with a story to tell just in case, but silence would have been better. “I apparently showed up at the garage at the least opportune time.”

“Oh! So was it love at first sight?” Lina was pouring them all a second shot with one hand as the other one rested on Sharik’s head.

Vlad laughed – what an absurd concept, he found himself musing. Love at first sight? With someone as careful as him? And although Y/N kicked his foot under the table to try and silence him, he couldn’t fully erase the smirk from his face. “Nyet,” he chuckled eventually as he wiped away a tear with a knuckle.

“Hell no! He was very rude and stubborn at the beginning,” confessed Y/N, and Vlad was barely able to scoff at her that Lina had turned in his direction with a gaze of steel.

“Very rude?” she inquired, eyes squinting as she frowned. “With this lovely lady?”

“Don’t gang up on me, she was very stubborn too!” he complained. “Still is.”

“One ought to be stubborn if one has to put up with you, my dear Volodya.” Ulyana patted his hand on the table. “Doesn’t give you the right to be rude. I didn’t raise you like that.”

He had been on the verge of pointing out that he had, in fact, been raised by his own mother and not by her, but he didn’t deem it appropriate tonight – nor necessary. Lina didn’t mean any harm, and he knew what she was trying to imply.

“It’s alright, Ulya, he has learned how to tone it down now.” The smile on Y/N’s face seemed sincere, and at that moment, he wouldn’t be able to tell what she was thinking about. “Ever since we moved in together, he’s learned how to behave himself. Most of the time, at least.”

It was Ulyana’s turn to playfully slap Vlad’s forearm and he found it almost weird, to find himself with his back to the wall in front of those two. And not even in a bad way, with all of them drinking vodka together and celebrating a romantic relationship that simply wasn’t there.

What had he become? Lying like that to an old, dear friend… Without thinking twice; without remorse. He sat there in her living room, eating her food, drinking her alcohol, and he kept on adding lies to the fire without being able to stop.

“Hey, she’s not a saint, either! Tell her.”

Y/N laughed, and it somehow took him by surprise, it knocked the wind out of him. He fully turned his head to stare at her, and it almost felt like seeing her for the first time and for the millionth time at the same time. The way she tilted her head back as she laughed; the way her earrings and piercings caught the light of the lighting fixture; even the way her fingers brushed against his, and the way he ended up holding her hand in his. Warm and soft, the skin so smooth that he almost pulled away.

He watched her talk, recount the story of how they met – or a watered-down version of it, with anything too compromising being filtered out. And as she conversed with Ulya, her fingers played with his and his gaze kept on dropping down on his hand, never missing a movement. She had somehow ended up tracing the three-bar cross between his thumb and forefinger – without looking at it, almost as though she had done just that so many times that she had ended up memorizing its placement, its lines. And as she went on talking, her fingers brushed across the Xs on his knuckles, and he had to fight that sudden impulse that pushed him to pull his hand away.

A couple of hours later, when they had finally bid Ulyana goodnight and thanked her for the pleasant dinner she had offered them, he found himself walking his best man’s dog in the park just across the street from her old friend’s apartment building. He watched Sharik sniff here and there, and for a moment he found himself wondering if that was what a normal life felt like – walking the dog at almost eleven in the night, with plastic bags in a pocket in case the dog pooped, arm in arm with a woman.

“You’re quiet,” she said at one point, when they stopped under a tree while Sharik sniffed just a few meters in front of them. “Is everything alright?”

It took him a while to answer. And it wasn’t because he hadn’t heard her, but because he was afraid of somehow saying the wrong thing as was custom with him. “Da,” he sighed eventually, “just thinking.” He shrugged, but he didn’t make a move to pull away when her hand trailed down his arm and her fingers entwined with his.

“I had a good time tonight. I hope you did too, and that I didn’t push myself too far with that story about… you know, us.”

“It was fine, she bought it.”

“Doesn’t make me feel less bad, though.”

He turned his head to look at her, and for a moment, the thought of how it would be like to do this every night with her crossed his mind. “Eh, I know.” It was quiet for a while after that, but when Sharik steered off the path, he found himself cursing out in Russian. “Come here, you stubborn dog!”

“Don’t be mean, Vlad! He’s just a dog.” She ran after Sharik then, and he watched her take him back by the collar as he fished a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his pants. He had just lit himself one when she took it from his fingers and put it out against the sole of her high-heeled shoe as she kept her balance with a hand firmly wrapped around his forearm.

“Why did you do that?” It was almost a gasp, half-surprised and half-pissed at a cigarette waisted in such a way.

“I had something to tell you yesterday, in the car.”

“You could’ve done that over shared cigarette!”

“I don’t want to taste cigarettes when I kiss someone, though.”

He almost opened his mouth to retort when her words registered in his brain, and all he could do was stare down into her eyes, not a sound leaving his lips.

“Like that night after the bar, just without drinks. I wanna do this sober.” She had taken a step forward, and they were now standing toe-to-toe. He could almost feel her, even with that short distance separating them – like when she had turned around and had ended up pressing her forehead against his back the night before, with the only difference that they were both awake now. “I want to kiss you again so badly it’s driving me nuts.”

That gasp didn’t leave his lips just because he managed to abruptly inhale quickly at the last second, but her words did make his heart beat faster somehow.

“I kept on telling myself that you’d do it, but you haven’t so far, and I can’t understand if that’s because you still dislike me or –”

He cut her off before she could continue. Her cheeks were burning when he cradled her face between his hands, and her lips were soft against his. Her hands came up to wrap around his wrists. When he pulled her closer, she let him; and when she deepened the kiss, when her tongue brushed against his teeth, he let her.

It was like one of those cliché moments, although it lasted for a couple of seconds at most: his breathing stopped, and the world seemed to stop with it as he kissed her. And then, when everything picked up again – his breathing, his heart, Hell’s Kitchen late-night traffic, Sharik’s tail snapping like a whip against his leg as he stood there – he found himself not wanting to pull away.

She did, though, and she looked up at him out of breath, his hands still cupping her cheeks and her hands still holding on to his wrists. “You’re so stubborn, I swear,” she chuckled. “But if you don’t kiss me again, I’ll go back to being stubborn, too.”

He cackled, and when Sharik pushed against his thigh with his nose, he looked down at him and shook his head. “Maybe Sergei was right, after all,” he mumbled before turning his attention back to Y/N and kissing her again, silencing her question before she had the time to voice it.

This is Sharik :) (pics found on Pinterest eons ago, I don’t remember the links, credits to the owner(s)!)

Comments and inbox are always open for feedback :) pls if you have any ideas you’d like to see in this story, feel free to hit me up, they’d for sure help me out lol since I’m slow AF :’)

TAGS (to be added to or removed from any list, shoot me an ask)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @mblaqgi @becs-bunker @gruffle1

The Assistant: @flowers-in-your-hayr

People that might be interested: @kind-wolf @brobachev

#vladimir ranskahov #daredevil #vladimir ranskahov imagine #vladimir daredevil fanfic #vladimir ranskahov x reader #vladimir ranskahov fanfiction #fic series: the assistant #angelaiswriting

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themuselesswriter · 3 years ago

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The Serpent and The Desert Shark - Chapter seven

Characters: Original characters, Troy Otto, Nick Clark, Jake Otto, Alicia Clark, Madison Clark, Victor Strand

Summary: Troy's sleep deprivation had him going crazy, destroying everything his family worked for, destroying his family as well in the process but what's taken is restored with the news Carla delivers to him.

Word count: 1,965

Warnings: death, drugs abuse, alcoholism

A/N: none so far but like, let me know what you think!

Credits: viking - polarr filter by me, photos from Pinterest

————————————Teaser———————————-

They found him standing at the cliff of a hill, a shotgun in hand, the good one, not the one he punctuated a thousand times by now, he was looking at dust moving closer and closer, he stopped the car and the three hopped out, Carla was the first to run to him “Troy!” she shouted and before anyone knew it, she was hugging him from behind, it took Troy a moment to return her embrace, Nick wondered how those two loved each other that much in such a short period “we’re here” he announced as they got closer “what did you do?”

Nick wished if he didn’t figure out the answer to that particular question, a horde of walking deads was heading towards the Ranch, and Troy seemed to enjoy it, Carla didn’t care much of it, she treated him as if he brought home a new car or guests, the task of freaking out was given to him and Jake, well, the other was trying to murder his brother, while Nick was too worried about saving his sister who remained in the Ranch.

Few minutes, that how long it took for hell to unfold, only a few minutes, for Jake to be thrown off the cliff, bitten, his arm cut and in the back of the jeep, even fewer minutes it took for Troy to give him a decent death, it all played out in front of her, and the uncanny thing is… she couldn’t feel a thing because they were okay, Jake was always nice to her but he wasn’t Troy or Nick he wasn’t important, they returned to the Ranch, tried to save few people but there were none to save, Alicia took off, the three of them too, stayed in the bazaar while Madison did whatever Madison does away from them.

They’ve rented a small space for the three of them, sold most of their belongings for it, Nick was out, getting them food, Carla and Troy remained, they sat across from each other, staring at one another “I’m sorry I took home from you” Troy said after what seemed like forever, she shook her head “don’t be, it was never home, I only stayed there for you” he blinked few times, she guessed he never had anyone do anything just for him before now “It’s the apocalypse, Troy, home is fictional” she doubted he understood but oh well, she tried.

“There’s something I need to tell you” she added, nervous of what his reaction might be once he hears the news, the one that she’s been burying for the last couple of months “please not again! Let me guess… you’re actually a guy this time?” She rolled her eyes, she’s in love with an idiot! There’s no other explanation on why she put up with his idiocy! “Can a guy be pregnant?” She said bluntly, all her plans of easing things for him were destroyed, Troy remained quiet.

#fanfic #fanfics #fanfiction #original character #troy otto #nick clark #madison clark #jake otto #jeremiah otto #victor strand #alicia clark #fear the walking dead #ftwd #Museless AO3

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kinghoranshit · 3 years ago

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Tell Me A Lie (NH) Ch 5

Word count: 1455

Warnings: kissing, softness

A yelp left me as I rolled off the couch, which was followed by a groan. I rubbed my forehead that had hit the leg of the coffee table and squinted at a curled up Niall.

We really fell asleep on the couch.

The TV held the “are you still watching” screen for who knows how long. I found the remote to turn the TV off, then I sighed as I looked at Niall. He was now stretching out, cracking his muscles, and yawned. As he sat up, he wiped his face before he looked up at me.

“Good rest,” he mumbled.

I laughed, it came out hoarse and I coughed in an attempt to clear my throat. “Yeah, definitely.”

He looked like he was about to ask if I was okay, but he stood instead. “Breakfast before or after we get ready?”

“That’s-”

“No, it’s not. You choose.” Niall shot me a look.

I vaguely rolled my eyes. “Uhm… How about after.”

He smiled. “Perfect.”

I grabbed my stuff before following him upstairs and he lowkey dropped me off. He tapped his hand on the trim as he awkwardly leaned against it. “Hey, what’re you planning to wear today?”

“Depends on the weather outlook I guess.” I shrugged. “Why?”

“I…” He coughed into his hand. “Thought we could match a little.”

I couldn’t help the laugh. “Adorable. Well, uhm, let me check the weather.” The screen lit up once I’d lifted it and unlocked it. The weather was supposed to be cooler today. I could get away with a sweatshirt look. I took out my vintage, navy golf sweatshirt, white tennis skirt, white crew socks, and tan sneakers.

“I think this is what I’m gonna wear.”

He smirked. “Okay, I think I’ve got something to match. See you in a bit.”

I nodded. “You too.”

Internally I cringed after he was gone. You too? What the fuck was that? I tried to not overthink it as I ran a shower and quickly cleaned up. I blow dried my hair before I pulled it up into a messy pony, then clipped my slight bangs back with two small pearl barrettes. I didn’t have the energy to try super hard on my makeup, so it was a simple concealer, light brown eyeshadow, and peachy tinted balm kind of day.

When I looked at the fit in the mirror, immediately all the negative thoughts ensued - the most present one being that I was frumpy. It was meant to be. I had to remind myself that, and even if it wasn’t, being frumpy isn’t a bad thing. Like most people, my style was inspired from photos on pinterest. I wouldn’t even pretend that my outfits were original if someone asked. But I did enjoy my clothes so that’s what mattered.

My mini backpack matched my sneakers, which were louder on the stairs than my barefoot feet. I cursed even though it was literally just Niall and I, and we were both awake. Whistling sounds from the kitchen and I swifted in to see Niall dancing in front of the stove.

I held back a laugh. “Breakfast and a show? I’m getting the five star experience around here.”

Niall wore one of his own golf crewnecks with white shorts and white Nikes. It was way more reminiscent of the days before they disbanded. Though his style hadn’t changed much since then. He looked… good.

He turned off the burner and shook his head. He plated scrambled eggs and avocado smeared on some sort of bread, then slid one of them to me. “Don’t worry, it’s dairy free.”

My heart fluttered. I nodded. “Thanks. Looks delicious.”

***

Niall and I walked down the main of Melrose, hand in hand. I tried to focus on Niall as we walked. Dirty looks seemed to project in my direction. Social media was easier to handle to be honest.

Despite how delicious breakfast was, my stomach rolled in itself with nausea. I found myself humming a small tune to distract myself.

“What’re you humming?”

I glanced at Niall, flushed, and stopped. “It’s nothing.”

“Let’s not play this game, Kelly. What is it?”

I sighed heavily. “It’s a… It’s a song from one of the story playlists.”

Niall brightened up. “What song?”

I cleared my throat. “Superhero by Lauv.”

“Oi! I love that song. It’s a bop.”

“Agreed… It’s not for the Stone Cold series. It’s an individual project.”

He opened his mouth, but I cut him off. “No, I’m not sure if it’s something I’ll share with the public. It was originally a shits and giggles purge Tumblr fic, but then I decided to rewrite it as an episodic screenplay.”

“I can’t say it’s something I’d enjoy, but I’m sure there are a lot who would.” His phone buzzed so he pulled it out to check. His hand squeezed around mind and he slowly came to a halt.

His eyes gazed into mine. He rested one hand on my cheek and the other on my hip. I tried not to look or feel confused; it wasn’t working. I was still unaware when the hired paps were going to be nearby, but they must be now. I attempted to put on a show smile, taking a step closer, and rested my hands on his torso as we leaned in for a kiss.

His soft lips so carefully touched mine. His hand snaked to the back of my neck and the following kiss was much more passionate. Then they were gone.

I was stunned. That seemed way more than a friendly kiss. I didn’t have much time to process as Niall entwined our hands again and pulled us toward a store as the paps “swarmed” us. When we were in a more secluded area of the Gucci store, I tugged him to a stop.

“What was that second kiss?”

“I don’t really know… It needed to be believable.”

I snorted. “Well, that felt pretty damn real.”

Both of us fell silent, and he tapped his fingers on the display table. “It… Wasn’t. It was just for show. Did you want anything in here?”

I raised my eyebrows. There was definitely a better answer than what he gave me, yet it was a can of worms that didn’t need to be opened. I cleared my throat. “I can’t afford it.”

He lightly smirked. “Melrose is full of luxury stores. It’s on me. We could get something matching?”

“Nialler, that would be crazy.”

“Crazy fun, you mean.” His eyes sparkled as he bit his bottom lip. “Come on, let loose!”

I overlooked him a few more seconds, just to antagonize him. Finally, I sighed. “Fine. But not from here. No one would believe you bought something from Gucci, even for me… What about Versace or Burberry? They’ve got dope trousers and accessories.”

He shot me his look with one eyebrow cocked. He didn’t say a word.

I rolled my eyes. “You know I’m on pinterest a lot.”

“That… sounds ideal.” He reached his hand out for me to take. “Let’s do it.”

***

When we returned to Niall’s mansion with bags of belts, shirts, and trousers that evening, we covered news articles and social media. All used the few photos taken, the star being the second kiss and it looked very much… believable. Modest! sent praising emails for how well this first outing was. It was an odd appraisal.

“Hey, what if we went to a couple bars tonight?” Niall suggested.

“Will there be any dancing involved?”

“Nnnn- yeeesss,” Niall answered by gauging the emotion on my face.

I laughed under my breath. “I love a good club if you’re down. We can always save it for tomorrow night. Saturday might be better anyway.”

“It’s LA, Kelly. Every night is a good night to drink and dance. That life never dies here.”

“I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” I admitted, narrowing my eyes at him.

He pecked my cheek. “I’m Irish, of course it’s good. Leave in an hour or so?”

I hesitated. “I… How about tomorrow night? Today was a lot to be honest.”

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah! Whatever you want. Any ideas for dinner?”

A small smile spread on my lips. “Tacos?”

“Sounds good to me,” he replied. “I’ll get it set up.”

“Thanks.”

I snuck upstairs to the guest bedroom and flopped down onto the bed. My body sunk into the jersey soft comforter and I let out a tired breath. Lazily, I scrolled through all my notifications, replying to all the text messages from my friends and parents. They all bought that Niall and I were legit. Obviously that’s good, but also it leaves a terrible taste in my mouth.

Next: Ch 6

[Masterlist]

#Niall Horan #Niall Horan fic #Niall Horan fanfiction #fic #romance #drama #comedy #Tell Me a Lie #NH #Ch 5

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