#I mean I loved her on ultimate girls trip and she does crack me up so like I can’t even judge 😂
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On it bosses 🫡 @saw-x @lazybakerart
#phaedras comeback to reality tv is so wild given the circumstances of why she was thrown off to begin with#I mean I loved her on ultimate girls trip and she does crack me up so like I can’t even judge 😂#it’s just….did everyone forget have we all moved on? Kandi didn’t forget 😬#anyway yes I will be watching traitors now lmao
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Heartbreaker
Roman Roy x Reader
summary: As your relationship with Roman grows more uncertain, you turn to the person who knows him best for advice.
Midway through the day, you spotted Gerri on her way out of the office and sprang up from your desk, jogging after her.
“Hey Gerri,” you said, “Could I buy you lunch today?”
“I’m flattered. What’s the occasion?”
“I need your input on something.”
She eyed you suspiciously.
“Is this business or personal?”
“Personal.”
“Fine. But you’re buying me a drink, too.”
Gerri took you to a high-end lunch spot downtown. You settled at a table near the window, picking up your menus. No prices. You swallowed. You had known this wouldn’t come cheap.
“What’s on your mind, Y/N?”
“It’s Roman.”
Gerri let out a subtle sigh, adjusting her glasses as she scanned the menu.
“I should have known,” she murmured.
“I’m completely at a loss.”
“Welcome to the club.”
“I mean, what can you tell me? Every time I ask him about his relationship history he starts mumbling and won’t make eye contact.”
“I don’t know much more than you,” she said. “There were a few girls that I know of. But as far as I know they never went anywhere, if you know what I mean.”
“I don’t.”
“Do I have to say it?”
“Yes, Gerri.”
“Well, then.” She cleared her throat. “As far as I know, they never… you know. Fucked.”
You sat back with a somewhat satisfied smirk on your face.
“Okay then,” you said.
“Don’t let that hearten you. In fact, it might be a reason for you to pack up and look elsewhere.”
Gerri sighed and rubbed her nose lightly.
“Roman is extremely complicated,” she went on. “You think you have him figured out, then he surprises you again. He’s chaotic, he’s unpredictable, he’s highly unstable—“
“Gerri,” you said, interrupting. “You’re saying all this like it should deter me.”
“If you were a sane human being, it would.”
“Let’s say I’m not. Let’s say I’m invested in seeing where this Roman trip takes me.”
She finally looked at you with something like mingled sympathy and admiration.
“Then I might be able to give you a few pointers.”
The drinks arrived. Gerri took a long sip before considering what she would say next.
“First, it might help if you told me what it is about Roman that interests you.”
You took a swig of your own drink before you responded.
“Let me just say that I didn’t choose to feel this way. I fully intended not to like Roman when I came to work for this company. Everything I heard made me dread meeting him. Even in our first few meetings, I was still determined not to like him. He was weirdly twitchy, he wouldn’t stop climbing on furniture. I thought he was a self-absorbed prick.”
“You weren’t wrong.”
“Right. But we both know there’s something underneath that.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“He’s a heartbreaker, Gerri.”
“I know.”
You put your head down on the table. The waiter arrived with your entrees, unsure where to put them until Gerri nudged you beneath the table. You shot up, composing yourself. Gerri leaned towards you.
“Listen, I know Roman. He’s tough. But I think he’ll open up to you.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Roman’s been looking in all the wrong places for love. I think his relationship with his dad shows that pretty clearly. He has an image in his mind of the kind of partner he should have. But that’s not the partner that he ultimately wants.”
“And what kind of partner does he want?”
“Maybe one who’s as broken as he is.”
You cracked a grin.
“I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not,” you said.
“It’s meant as one. I know you’ve been through some tough times, but look where it’s brought you. Sometimes the most broken people end up being the strongest.”
She looked at you with that same admiring glint in her eye.
“When I first met you, I thought I saw a lot of myself in you.”
“Sorry, but there’s no way Gerri Kellman is a broken person.”
A small smile.
“You’d be surprised.”
You ate for a while in silence, thinking over each other’s words. Gerri finally glanced at her watch.
“We should be getting back soon.”
“Tell me what to do, Gerri. I’m lost when it comes to him.”
“My advice?” She dabbed at her lips with her napkin, took a sip of ice water. “Don’t give up on Roman.”
“Give me one good reason.”
She looked you straight in the eye. “Because,” she said, “Last week, he asked me to lunch to talk about you.”
Your heart leapt in your chest.
“You’re kidding me.”
She shook her head firmly.
“I thought he didn’t like me,” you said.
“Quite the opposite.”
“Holy fuck.”
Gerri shook her head, gathering her bag with a smile on her lips.
“That’s an understatement. You’re in for a wild ride, Y/N.”
You drove back to the office with her, riding in silence up the elevators. As you walked back towards the conference room, Roman strode out of his office, hands in pockets.
“Oh look,” he said, “It’s my two favorite people.”
He stopped in his tracks. You could see his mind backpedaling in real time.
“Sorry, did I say that? I meant my two favorite corporate thralls. Get back to the conference room where you belong. Why aren’t you on a call right now? Fuck you. Leave me alone.”
Gerri had a smirk on her lips. Neither of you budged. Finally, Roman hurried past you, running a hand through his hair, throwing obscenities into the air.
“See?” Gerri said. “He does like you.”
#succession#roman roy x reader#roman roy/reader#roman roy#gerri kellman#reader insert#taking a lil break from requests to do something indulgent#next i might do the flip side of this... roman's lunch with gerri
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HCs about Nihil and Imperator getting fucking high
CW: NSFW, implied intox + dubcon, alcohol/drug use.
Young Imperator + Nihil
- Setting the scene with what they use
Nihil: Weed obviously. I mean this bitch got a whole song for the thing he loves most (and his girlfriend ig). Psychedelics (LSD, shrooms, ecstasy) basically anything that’ll make him start seeing shit, he loves the out of body feeling and also is definitely one of those guys that suddenly comprehends empathy after trying shrooms. Probably has dabbled in opium and heroin, just for the sake of popularity honestly he’s a curious guy! He fucking hates shooting up which he discovered after trying meth with Sister. Generally dislikes the “scary” drugs and is the type to leave a party when he sees people getting needles out.
Imperator: My girl here sticks with weed honestly. She loves her bong so fucking much it’s like her first child. Sister doesn’t do too well with psychedelics due the several bad trips involving paranoia/The Hat Man™️ (when you’re in touch with the devil things are a lot scarier when the understanding of something greater than you is always present) but she doesn’t mind doing them as long as Nihil is around. Definitely has tried ketamine and uses it on the rare occasion that she has access to it but it’s not something she really seeks out. Definitely got really into coke in the 80s.
- Nihil was extremely apprehensive about using when first joining the church (look at those pathetic little lamb eyes and tell me he wasn’t afraid of exploding if he touched the big bad weed the paper warned him about). Peer pressure gets his ass hard when he sees Sister in the rotation with a few siblings and is suddenly very open to it. The public setting is a little much for him so Imperator gets to drag him away to a quiet room and offers to let him try shotgunning it just to get him comfortable with it and god does that work like a charm. Works a little too well because he refuses to hit it himself and insists on shotgunning whenever he has the chance.
- Are we going to pretend like they weren’t on the 60s ozempic (heroin) because I do not think Nihil’s waist is that skinny and slutty naturally.
- Imperator is definitely the more desensitized of the two when it comes to most things. She doesn’t bat an eye when it comes to seeing others shoot up or any other less than desirable behaviors that come with usage. Borderline, she dgaf about anything so it’s nothing to her. As mentioned in the prior point my girl here probably had quite a few run-ins with heroin/meth for the sake of appetite suppression and weight loss.
- Nihil is a victim of shrooms making him believe he’s the first person on earth to discover empathy. I know I said it earlier but it’s true.
- Nihil’s lungs are too shitty to smoke (asthmatic king) so he absolutely sticks with edibles etc. Basically what we see in the TFIAFL animation.
- Yes, Imperator has done a line off of Nihil’s dick.
- Nihil is a bad trip sitter because he’s stupid. Imperator is a bad trip sitter because she thinks it’s funny. (Nihil is a victim of the Forever Weed™️).
- Imperator doesn’t get high often but when she gets the chance she goes all out. This woman is starting her sesh at the ass crack of dawn just lounging in her room melting into her bed and enjoying her rare moment of peace.
- At some point, Imperator managed to misread her calendar and began her free day routine of getting high at 7am only to be interrupted mid bong rip to be reminded that she has a clergy meeting in an hour. Needless to say this is the slowest hour of her fucking life and the sunglasses Nihil leant her are not doing SHIT to hide the fact that she is tweaking so fucking hard rn.
- Nihil cannot roll for shit. He thought it would be cute to help Imperator out one time but she saw the fucking mess of a blunt he tried to offer her and genuinely considered shooting him in the back of the head like a sick dog.
- Ultimately nihil uses drugs as a “fun” escape (which gets extremely ugly post breakup mind you) and Imperator uses drugs to chill the fuck out from the stress of work (she’s still a party girl don’t get me wrong).
- Imperator doesn’t care much for drinking but when she does, she’s sticking with cocktails and I feel like lemon drops are definitely top 3 for her. She enjoys wine every now and then but it doesn’t do much for her and is more of a social thing than something she chooses for herself. She’s an emotional drunk in a bad way and is running her mouth without a single thought, even meaner than usual which has 100% been the cause of several bar fights.
- Nihil drinks pretty frequently so he’ll go for anything, he’s not picky at all as long as it’ll get him there. Very sappy drunk and overly affectionate, emotional in the opposite direction of Sister and is probably crying over the smallest things.
- Also, Nihil definitely has a thing for anything that’ll get his dick going. Satan put him on this Earth to get high and fuck forever.
Old Imperator + Nihil
- Cali legalizing weed was literally the happiest day of their lives, I don’t even think Imperator can consider Copia’s birth on the same level. The joy is partially because she’s convinced the church has finally had some influence on the world which copia insists isn’t true but she won’t hear any of it. However it wears off after a while and she thinks that getting high was much more fun when it was illegal.
- They have calmed down so much and it’s probably due to them realizing they can’t recall half the shit that happened from the mid 60s-early 70s because they were basically high 24/7.
- At this point Imperator is a certified wino I mean just look at her. The cunty red heel and lip look says everything. Also, I think parenting Copia was/is enough to make her a wino it’s like a rite of passage. She has a “Home is where the wine is” sign somewhere in the house.
- Before he died, Nihil probably had access to medical marijuanna but aside from edibles I also think he would’ve been partial to oils, specifically vaporized because it would be easier for him to take.
- Speaking of before he died, I think Nihil was sneaking hits off of Swiss and Dew’s pen when he was on tour with them. The ghouls are both ecstatic about it and think it’s funny as fuck watching him hunch over and hit it from his sleeve when Sister isn’t looking (they’re mildly afraid she’ll get mad at them for encouraging him but risk vs reward is great here) (the reward being watching the guy on the brink of death hit a fucking pen).
- Ghost Nihil and Imperator are absolutely hotboxing the Emeritus crypt
- Having lost her beloved bong in the breakup, Imperator sticks with blunts now because it’s less work. She insists on rolling herself although she does have a bit of a hand tremor, she thinks it’s a waste to buy pre-rolled.
- Also now that she’s older, Sister is less concerned about looking cool when getting high and is more open to succumbing to her sweet tooth and finally taking Nihil up on sharing his pot brownies.
- Date nights include getting faded and going to really nice restaurants and movie theaters. Copia is their permanent designated driver and absolutely hates it but, whatever, Imperator didn’t carry his ass around for 9 months to be denied a ride.
- Getting high is a whole event for them now, considering the growth of the church and such they’re much busier now so they have to set aside the time and get their spaces prepared to veg out for the evening. They’re literally going over their calendar together like “No, no. I can’t do Wednesday I’ve got an appointment at 4 and a meeting at 7 the next morning.” “Alright, what about Friday??” “I promised C I would go to bowling with him, that won’t work either.”
Anyways, I implore you all to write more Nihil and Sister lighting up because they deserve a little treat.
i could rant all day about the lack of specific nihil/imperator content but it actually astounds me how there’s only a handful of fics where nihil smokes and it’s Only him. you all know damn well imperator was the one that got him on that shit stop pretending that old lady doesn’t smoke up.
#i can see the case made for stoner nihil pre-dance macabre because his friend absolutely looks like he can’t survive a day without smoking#but also#idgaf he’s a loser#i feel like there’s no specific way to say this without a disclaimer but obviously drugs aren’t cool etc etc#they’re fucking rockstars i mean it’s inevitable obviously they do drugs#also they live in cali i mean that should be enough#i’m hoping to write a one shot or two about this but only time will tell#also if i missed any cws please say something i really have no idea if these require more specific tags#ghost#papa nihil#sister imperator#ramblings
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Food Poisoning
What’s that? I should be working on the 12+ asks in my inbox instead of doing my own stuff??? Whoopsie
In all fairness I’m not super proud of this anyway, so I guess it balances itself out
“It must have been quite the night for Daniela to be sleeping in this late,” you say over your morning coffee.
“Was it?” Cassandra, ever the lady, asked while a mouthful of breakfast. “I didn’t realize she went out to hunt.”
Bela nodded as she sipped her tea. “She looked a little worse for wear after dinner, don’t you think, Mother?”
“I noticed that as well, yes. I hope she’s not falling ill.”
“Wait, can vampires even get sick?”
“Not if they’re careful enough. But in short, yes, my dear, it is very possible. If our food is less than healthy when ingested we will get sick. Nothing major, rather similar to food poisoning in fact.”
“Ok, well should we go check your stocks? Maybe she ate something rancid.”
Alcina shook her head. “I’m sure she’s fine, y/n. It’s probably just one of those days for her. Besides, if she were ill that means all of us would be as well, and I don’t know about you girls, but I feel perfectly fine this morning.”
Both Cassandra and Bela nodded along.
“Unless she ate that weird guy she abducted from the bar. Maybe he wasn’t just drunk? He could have been sick. Also, I hate how blasé I’ve become to you guys eating people. You’ve officially numbed me.”
Alcina rolled her eyes at your dramatics while the girls giggled. “What are the odds of that, though? Consuming the only subject in the entire basement that hasn’t been thoroughly tested.”
You share a look with Bela and Cassandra. “You remember who we’re talking about, right Alcina?”
She exhales slowly, blowing tiny ripples on the surface of her wine. “Goddammit, I suppose I should go check on her.”
You already stood from your seat. “No, no you just sat down; I’ll go. What are the odds, anyway? Daniela is smarter than that.”
It was a short walk to Daniela’s chambers once you made it upstairs. You know you’re going to find her ill in bed, you just know it. The thrill of the kill makes her reckless even in the best of times. You know for a fact she devoured that weird old man the very night she dragged him home. Now your only hope is she’s not cursed with anything more than a stomach ache.
The putrid smell of stomach acid reeked even outside Daniela’s closed door. On instinct you wanted to rush in there and help her, but who’s to say she isn’t asleep? The smell could have been from last night and she was just too exhausted to clean it up before passing out. Not that that made you feel any better. Poor Daniela sicker than a dog all by herself with no one to hold her hair up or rub her back.
You steadied yourself enough to knock a couple of times before opening the door a crack. Just enough to be able to peek through.
“Daniela?” No answer.
It doesn’t look like she’s in bed either. Then you heard the retching. You wasted no time rushing in to find her hunched over a wastebasket on the floor. You gathered her hair away from her face, kneeled down next to her, and tried desperately to ignore the smell. The last thing needed is both of you throwing up.
“Are you alright, darling?”
It was a stupid question, but the words left your mouth before you could censor yourself. That didn’t stop the redhead from glaring up at you. Her eyes were glossy and red, probably from lack of sleep.
You waited a few minutes while her breathing steadied before letting go of her. “Will you be ok while I go get your mother?”
She gave a single nod.
You rush out of the room and head for the stairs. You consider rushing down and risk tripping over yourself but ultimately decide to tell for her.
“ALCINA!”
She was heading up the stairs almost immediately after you called like she was waiting for you to do so. “She’s retching on the floor.” Alcina sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I was really hoping you were wrong.” “Me too. What should we do?” Alcina opened the door to her daughter’s bedroom and immediately rushed to her side. “My poor darling, what happened?” All Daniela could bring herself to do was shake her head. Alcina kissed her temple. “I think that old drunk expired and no one told him.” That got a smile on Daniela’s lips. Alcina proceeded to wipe the dribbles of bile off her daughter’s lips with her dress. You entered the room but kept your distance from the pair. Both because you wanted to give them space and because the smell was making you nauseous. If it's making you feel sick then you can't imagine how crummy Daniela is feeling. "Why don't you bring her to our room and I'll clean this mess up."
"Don't worry about that, y/n. I'll deal with it later. Right now I need you to go tell Bela and Cassandra to ready themselves for a trip down to the village. I need the old witch to brew a few tonics for Daniela." You nodded quickly and start hurrying out of the room. "Make sure Bela brings her glass vials!"
The girls departed for the village with haste. They said it's been decades since any of them fell ill and any herbs or tonics they had laying around the castle would have lost their effect years ago. You panicked a bit when Cassandra asked what she should be asking the witch for cause you had absolutely no idea. Before you gave yourself a panic attack trig to figure it out, Bela reassured you she knew what to do. Some items could only be obtained from the witch's hut, which is where Cassandra was being sent, while others could be purchased in the village shops.
As soon as you saw them off you busied yourself with cleaning Daniela's room. It took a while, way longer than it should have, but it got done and that's all that matters. The smell was putrid enough standing in the doorway so being right in the middle of it made you really nauseous. Scrubbing the smell out of the wooden floorboards took up most of your morning, but making Daniela happy and comfortable was well worth the effort.
You rewarded yourself with a hot shower for your valiancy though. After you freshened up you found everyone curled up together in the library. Daniela was laying on her back, with her head resting on her mother's lap as she read a book. Bela was curled up in a ball next to Alcina while Cassandra laid stretched out on the floor with her chin resting on Alcina's knee. It was probably the cutest thing you've ever seen. Not wanting to ruin such a wholesome family interaction you quietly exited the library before any of them noticed you were there.
The next few days passed like this. Alcina was driving herself to exhaustion making sure Daniela was as comfortable as possible and you did the same to her in turn. The easiest way to get the matriarch to relax was by giving her a back massage. You straddled her bare back and slowly kneaded away at her aching muscles. Her occasional sounds of pleasure encourage your ministrations.
"How can one woman have so many knots?"
"I don't know; stress, work, lack of sleep, posture?"
You laugh. "Wasn't actually looking for an answer, Al. And don't try to tell me you haven't been sleeping. I haven't been sleeping because your snoring keeps waking me up."
Alcina turned to give you a look of disgust. "I do not snore."
"You do when you're stressed. Weirdest thing, by the way."
She opened her mouth to respond but only let out a pained hiss as you moved down to her shoulder blades.
"Too much?"
"No, just sore. You can keep going."
"Yeah, I can see that. I'm just trying to get your muscles to relax, nothing crazy."
Alcina sighs and relaxes back into the pillows.
"I'm gonna start going a little harder, ok? It's getting better, but try to not hold your breath if you can help it."
Alcina lets out a long exhale in submission. She hadn't even realized she was holding it in. The way you were moving your hands down her body made her cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure.
"Sorry, Love."
"Don't worry about it, just keep going."
A comfortable silence passes between the two of you. Your mind wanders back to Daniela. It was surreal to see her moping around the castle.
"Do you think Daniela would like a backrub? I heard her say her body aches earlier."
"That's sweet though, my love, but let's just leave her be for now. I think she finally succumbed to the tonics."
"Ah, I understand. Is she feeling any better?"
Alcina shakes her head into the pillow. "Not yet, but the tonics are helping keep her stomach calm."
You feel the weight of an anvil release from your chest. "Thank the gods, I really don't want to clean up any more sick."
"No one told you to in the first place."
"I know. I just thought she would want to be comfy in her own room."
"I appreciate everything you're doing for her, y/n. Daniela does too, she's just not great at vocalizing it."
"She doesn't have to. I'll gladly take care of my family."
One night you come home from the village really late at night and come home to find Daniela snuggling with Alcina in bed. It’s the sweetest sight.
Alcina’s got an arm wrapped around Daniela’s middle, holding her close but not suffocatingly so. Daniela’s head is tucked under her mother’s chin, face buried in her neck.
You take in the sight before moving to give Alcina a kiss on the cheek (you would Daniela too but don’t want to wake her. She needs all the sleep she can get.) and move to leave for a guest bedroom just down the hall.
Alcina stirs and you apologize for waking her.
“I was only dozing,” she whispers.
“I’m sorry I’m so late. Mihaela was accepting drinks left and right, I had to make sure she got home safe.”
“How noble of you.” Alcina lets out a lion’s yawn.
“Go back to bed, Love. I’ll check on you both in the morning.”
“Daniela was waiting for you to come back, but fell asleep.” Alcina turned her attention back to her youngest daughter and kissed her sweaty temple.
“She feeling any better?”
“Her fever did go down a bit, so we’re on the road to recovery. A slow and winding road, but going in the right direction nonetheless.”
You sigh in relief. “Thank god. She was starting to really scare me. Do you think we should call that old bat up here to take a look at her? What if she doesn’t get better soon, then what?”
“But she is, darling. I just told you her fever is down. She still has a little bit of a fever, but progress is progress. In a few day's time, she will be much better.”
“You’re probably right,” you lean over Alcina and brush loose strands of hair out of Daniela’s face. “I just wish I could do more. I’d rather it be me instead of poor Daniela.”
“I’d rather it be neither of you,” Alcina mumbled.
“It’s just so scary to see her like this; so vulnerable and weak...”
“I’m not weak.” A groggy mumbling came from Alcina’s chest.
“Hey, Daniela, how are you feeling? Any better?”
The redhead nodded into her mother’s neck. “A little.”
“Good,” you smile. “You go back to sleep now, ok? I’ll come to check on you in the morning.”
“Wher’re you goin?”
“I’m gonna go sleep in a guest room so you can be with your mother.”
The hand wrapped around Alcina’s waist comes to grab your wrist. She said something but you couldn’t make it out. All you heard was muffled groaning.
“Don’t worry, Dani. This way you can have the whole side of the bed to yourself. I’ll come to check on you in the morning.”
She didn’t let go.
“Don’t you wanna be alone with your mother? I really don’t mind, Daniela, honestly.”
Daniela buried herself deeper under the covers. “You don’t understand. I-I want...both.”
“Both what?”
Daniela didn’t say anything. She only cuddled into Alcina’s chest.
Oh....OH!
You clamped a hand down on Alcina’s arm, unknowingly digging your nails into her skin.
“Are...are you sure, Dani?”
The redhead nodded into her mother, who then answered for her.
Your stomach fluttered with the wings of a thousand butterflies. Daniela never referred to you as a parental figure before, let alone call you her mother. “Alright then. If you’re sure that’s what you want.” You move to your side of the bed and crawled in, careful not to press against her too much.
Daniela lets put an irritated groan and reaches behind her to grab your arm and wrap it around herself. Yanking you against her along the way. She must be really sick. Since when did Daniela Dimitrescu demand cuddles? Especially from you. The only thing she ever demanded of you was to help her sharpen weapons or make up with Alcina after an argument.
She wriggled away from Alcina just enough to feel you behind her. She was still sandwiched pretty tight between the two of you, but if this is what she wants you aren’t complaining. She brought your hand up towards her chest so as to keep it away from her cramping stomach.
Her head was tucked in under your chin because you didn't want to breathe all over the back of her neck. Daniela was beyond glad you were still holding onto her, even though she would never say it out loud.
You made sure to tell her you would let go of her if cuddling got too hot, or cold, or stifling for her. The redhead groaned a response and nodded into Alcina’s chest.
Rather than having your arms wrapped around her, (that implied a certain amount of pressure) your arm was laying over her side and bent to her form without any sort of pressure so Daniela wouldn't feel trapped or constricted. Really more draped over her than wrapped around her.
But she was holding onto your forearm tight to keep you there even if she shifted somewhat frequently because she wanted you to stay.
“I’m sorry you have to feel like this, Daniela. I hope you start to feel better.” You threw caution to the wind and kissed the top of her head. To your surprise, Daniela cuddled further into you. It absolutely melted you.
You pepper her head with kisses. “My poor darling. I wish I could make it all go away.”
Alcina smiles warmly at the display as she repositions herself comfortably against the pillows. She leans forward to kiss the top of Daniela's head. "Promise me you'll wake us if you need anything?"
Daniela nods into her chest.
"Or if you can't fall asleep," you add.
Alcina leaned forward to kiss you goodnight, accidentally smothering her daughter in her chest. "Goodnight, my loves. Sleep well."
#lady dimitrescu x reader#tall vampire lady#daniela dimitrescu#bela dimitrescu#cassandra dimitrescu#alcina dimitrescu#resident evil village#resident evil 8
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Listen to Me
Uswnt x reader
⚠️mentions of fighting/violence, cursing, Chad being an asshole, mentions of racism, homophobia, and sexism. Lemme know if there’s more I missed.⚠️
Main Masterlist
It was time for another camp. You were the last to arrive due to still being in school and having to be there as many hours as you possibly could.
So here you were in the airport walking towards a pissed off Alex Morgan and Christen Press.
The day before your flight to camp, you had gotten into trouble. Trouble meaning you got into a fight. And word got to your teammates.
“Hello my favorite, most amazing people in the whole wide world.”
Alex simply rolled her eyes and grabbed your suitcase before walking towards the exit with you and Christen trailing behind.
You lowered your gaze to the terminal floor. Christen tried to catch your eyes but ultimately failed and decided just to look straight forward as she talked.
“You know, you shouldn’t resort to violence, (y/n). I don’t know what happened but everyone’s pretty upset and disappointed right now.”
Ouch. The disappointment card. Just had to pull that one like you haven’t heard it just about everyday of your life. You were honestly confused if people were actually disappointed when they said it or just used it as a guilt trip.
The ride to the hotel was full of silence. And not one of those silences where you feel comfortable with the people you adore and love. It was one of those silences where it made you nervous and anxious. It made you fidget and uncomfortable.
Getting your room assignment, being with Tierna, you tried to book it up the stairs. That worked for all of five seconds until you were called into the meeting room.
You reluctantly stepped down and made your way to the space and left your suitcase by the door. In the room were almost all the responsible/‘scary when they want to be’ ones. Sitting down in a chair with a sigh, you looked down at your fidgeting hands and waited for someone to start talking.
The silence that filled the room was very tense. All that could be heard was the movement of your hands and breathing.
When you thought things couldn’t get any worse, the most mama-bear of them all, Carli, spoke up.
“You know you can lose your spot for stuff like this right? You got into a fight, this is not something you need to be taking lightly at all. I don’t care what caused it, but you need to fix whatever’s going on with your behavior and attitude because you’ve been off for the past few weeks anyway. If something like this happens again, we won’t hesitate to take some disciplinary actions ourselves. Am I clear, (y/n)?”
You mumbled ‘crystal’ and attempted to leave the room only to get pulled down by Ash. “Now do you wanna tell us what started the fight?”
You were honestly getting really uncomfortable. Any movement you were making at the moment was probably the only thing keeping you from breaking right now; the furrowing of your eyebrows, the rolling of your shoulders, scratching your arms, bouncing your leg. You probably looked crazy.
You shrugged your shoulders and started spinning in your chair.
Ash put her hand on it and prohibited it from being able to move. “That was not a suggestion.”
Sighing and dragging your hands over your face you told them, “A boy knocked books out of my hands and pushed me so I pushed him back. He didn’t like that so he threw the first punch and I wasn’t about to let him push me around so I beat his ass.”
It wasn’t a total lie but it wasn’t the full truth. Yes he did push you. And yes he did hit you first. But there was so much more to the situation than that.
“Look I’m tired and I have work I need to do. If you want to scold me anymore, just please save it for tomorrow.”
Honestly you had never run up stairs so fast. The situation was so awkward and the way everyone was staring at you didn’t make anything better. There was so much disappointment in their eyes.
It’s like what you do will never be enough for anyone.
-
The next day everyone came down from breakfast. You went to sleep after 12 due to having work piled up from your asshole teachers. It’s not like they grade half of it anyway.
You still didn’t understand one of the lessons so decided to watch some YouTube videos on it and take notes while eating breakfast. That also gave you an excuse to sit away from anyone who would possibly want to lecture you about your ‘reckless actions’.
You were the last one down. Deciding to already have headphones in—to ignore anyone calling your name—you grabbed your breakfast and sat down at a table by yourself. Pulling your notebook and pencil out, you started the video and took notes while eating.
You could feel their eyes burning holes in your head. You’d honestly prefer they just come ask what they wanted than staring at you like some museum exhibit.
You just ignored it and did your work. That was easier said than done as Casey came over, sat next to you, and snatched your earphones out.
“Hey!” You scrambled to pause the video so you didn’t miss anything. “I was watching that.”
Turning to Casey, you pushed your glasses up and gave her a look that said ‘can I help you?’
“Don’t give me that face. I’m not the one you need to be having an attitude with.”
“I-I don’t have an attitude though.”
“Stop talking.”
You purse your lips, nod your head, and start bouncing your leg waiting to hear whatever she wanted to say to you.
“Look, I don’t know what’s been going on at school or at home but everyone can tell you’re on edge. Isolating yourself isn’t going to help anyone-”
“But I’m not isolating myself.”
“Interrupt me one more time, child.”
Casey was your first team mom. When you joined the red stars, she immediately took you under her wing and she became your mentor. The two of you worked well together and she constantly kept you on track. She was very nice but could be very strict when she wanted to be.
“All I’m saying is you’re making yourself look more guilty to them because you’re sitting over here looking like you’re all up in your feelings. You aren’t in your feelings. Right? Cause that’d be another conversation I’d have to have with somebody’s child and-”
You cut her off with your chuckle and shook your head. “Casey, I’m fine.”
She nods her head and contemplates for a few seconds, “Alright, come sit at the table with me then.”
“But I’m working.”
“Okay. You can work over there too.”
You simply watched as she grabbed your phone, notebook and breakfast to the table with a gaped mouth.
You blinked at her while she mouthed ‘come here’. Reluctantly, you pushed yourself out the seat and slowly made your way over. You sat down and reached out for your phone only for Casey to snatch it away.
“I need to do my work. What did you do that for?”
“Your work can wait. Socialize,” she said while putting your phone out of work.
With raised eyebrows you said, “Seriously?”
“Does it look like I’m kidding?”
Huffing you turned in your seat and played with your food. You’d honestly lost your appetite this morning; it was only 9 in the morning and people were already testing your patience.
You looked up and your eyes locked with Carli’s.
“Stop playing with your food, (y/n).”
You put your fork down and just got up to throw your food away. You couldn’t deal with this right now.
-
The two weeks of camp was boring and went by agonizingly slow. It consisted of pretty much the same routine; you’d do work after training, work during breakfast and spend any free days or breaks by yourself (occasionally with Tierna) in your room, on your phone looking at ways to improve and tricks to do.
It became annoying when all the vets constantly reprimanded you for the smallest of things. With Carli, it’d be ‘stop playing around so much’. With Alex it’d be ‘pick up after yourself’. Even Kelley was doing it for fuck’s sake.
You honestly couldn’t wait to leave and at least be somewhere where all the attention isn’t on you.
-
When you got to the airport, your girlfriend was there waiting for you. She pulled you in her arms and any leftover tension from the past two weeks immediately went away. She always knew how to make you feel better.
The two of you drove to her house and went over some school work before going to bed for the night. It wasn’t an unusual routine between you two.
When the alarm went off in the morning both of you groaned. The school you went to was a total pain in the ass and regardless of what day it was, you could count on it to be an awful day. It was a predominately white school with only 2 percent being a person of color; you and your girlfriend being part of that 2%. Half of them were racist, sexist, homophobic, and just all around assholes.
Walking into the school building, you could immediately feel all eyes on you. Trying to get past it, the two of you just went to your lockers with your heads down.
“Aye! Look at me you freak!”
It was the same dude you got into a fight with last time(his name is Chad by the way). Apparently a black eye didn’t teach him shit.
“When I tell you to do something I expect you to do it.”
He grabs your shoulders, turns you around and pins you to the lockers.
“You see my eye?”
“Yeah, you got your ass beat by a girl. What you gonna do about it?”
He punched you in the stomach hard.
“(Y/n)!” Your girlfriend. You looked up at her and shook your head signaling her not to get involved.
“Ima make you look worse than you made me-”
“Are you sure about that? Last time you failed, what makes you think it won’t happen again?”
Chad chuckles and shakes his head.
“You think you’re all that with that equal pay shit, and your racial equality and women loving women crap. Guess what you little bitch I’m going to end you and all those lesbians and gays and anybody else who thinks they deserve equality because you don’t. You don’t belong here. Just go kill-”
You kicked him in his balls, twisted his arm behind his back, and pulled it. When you heard that crack you smirked and leaned down to his ear.
“I don’t wanna embarrass you in front of your racist, sexist, homophobic, buddies, but lemme tell you. You don’t own anybody nor are you superior to anybody. Do I make myself clear?”
He only grunted but you pulled tighter which made him yell out.
“I said, ‘do I make myself clear’?”
“Yes!”
You pushed him on the ground and walked over him to your girlfriend.
“Why in the world would do that? You know what they’re going to do to you. You might not even get invited back to camp!”
“Babe, calm down. I honestly don’t care at this point. And neither should you.”
“(Y/n) (L/n)! My office! Now!”
You gave her a kiss and walked away slowly.
“Wish me luck.”
-
“You seriously got into another fight! What is going on with you!”
It was the first thing you heard when walking into the hotel lobby. Literally everyone was there. From the youngings to the vets. Surprisingly, you were called back to camp, but you honestly think it was just so everyone could scold you. Carli was absolutely livid, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything at the moment since you were so pissed.
Walking past the team, you attempted to make it to the stairs, only for Casey to grab the back of your shirt and pull you back towards the tables. She pushed you down into a seat and took your belongings away from you.
You tried to get back up but you were only pushed down again.
Carli bent down and stared you dead in the eye.
“What is going on with you?”
“There’s nothing wrong with me. What I did was what I intended to do. It was no mistake.”
Alex interrupted, “(Y/n), you don’t understand-”
“No you don’t understand!” You stood abruptly from the chair and slammed your hands on the table. The chair fell and it was absolute silence.
You’d never been so loud. You were always on the quiet side and this was the biggest reaction anyone had ever seen from you.
You were heavily breathing, staring at Carli, the adrenaline pumping through you.
“Did they tell you what he did to me?! Did they tell you what he calls me, my girlfriend and every other female, lgbtq member, or person of color in that school?! No! Because they don’t give a shit. And they won’t give a shit until it’s one of their kids getting hurt!”
There was no dry eye in the room. Your hands were shaking and you took a deep breath to calm down. In a lower voice you spoke.
“They don’t give a damn about my well-being so why should I give a fuck about theirs?”
Taking a few more trembling breaths, you wiped the tears off your face.
“So excuse me for being off for the past few weeks. This shit will take a toll on anybody. And you can cut the bullshit with the ‘don’t fight fire with fire’ cause that’s the only way something gets through those thick ass skulls. They don’t allow you to do it peacefully. They don’t allow you to educate them.”
You looked at Casey with tears in your eyes.
“I just wanna go to school and get an education and be treated like a normal human being. What’s wrong with that?”
Crystal came over to you and caught you before you fell. She lowered you both to the floor as you sobbed your heart out. You kept mumbling ‘I’m sorry’ into her neck between breaths as she rocked you back and forth trying to console you.
Casey and Christen were the next ones over, the latter rubbing your back while the other was trying to wipe away the onslaught of tears on your face.
“Shh, shh baby. You did nothing wrong.”
Soon, every member of the team was crowded around. Tears were streaming down everyone’s face. Their baby, only 16, was going through all this stress and pain. Because of something no one deserves.
You eventually calmed down after 15 more minutes of crying. You’d been transferred to Casey’s lap, and your team mom was trying to comfort you to the best of her ability.
Casey took your face in her hands and wiped all the tears off. “You don’t need to be sorry, alright? There was nothing you did wrong. Stop saying sorry.”
You nodded your head and she kissed your forehead.
Everyone was still crying or wiping waterfalls of tears away.
They watched as you got up and searched frantically for something. You got your phone out of your backpack and turned it on. While you were pacing, the Home Screen popped up and you quickly logged in to text your girlfriend. One, because you always text her when you get to the hotel and two, if Chad and his stickman buddies hurt her, you were absolutely going to lose your shit.
When you logged in to your phone, you saw she already messaged you saying that you should talk to the others.
“Kinda late for that,” you muttered.
“What did you say, hun?” Christen asked.
You just shook your head and texted her back.
Gf: I mean we could always try to talk to the board.
You: Or
You: We could go on strike.
Gf: I-
Gf: I’m done talking to you.
You: wait no! Don’t leave me.
You: I love you
You had a frown on your face when you put your phone away.
Casey pulled you back down into her lap. “What’s with the frown?”
You groaned and threw your head back. “She’s such an asshole. She left me on read!”
The team chuckled, glad to see you was somewhat back to yourself.
Your phone dinged and you pulled it out. She said ‘I love you too, weirdo’
There were a few moments of silence as everyone was thinking of what to do.
“Can we go on strike?”
“No!”
Casey flicked your ear for that.
Tobin spoke up, “Let’s create awareness first. Maybe identify the school board, post all the school’s faults on social media. I don’t know, just some ideas.”
Carli nodded her head. “Look, we’re here for you. For everyone in that school that’s been wronged. We’re gonna help you alright?”
You nodded your head and leaned back onto your team mom.
“And if all else fails, we go on strike.”
“Oh my god.”
—————-
Lowkey think this was trash but eh. I don’t really care at this point but uh this topic is very serious and what I put in here doesn’t even compare to what happens irl.
#uswnt x reader#uswnt imagines#Uswnt imagine#Uswnt#alex morgan#tobin heath#christen press#casey short#megan rapinoe#carli lloyd#mallory pugh#sam mewis#emily sonnett#crystal dunn#kelley ohara
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wish you were sober (richie tozier)
warnings: underage drinking, mentions of sex, angst, pining, reader is an unreliable narrator at best
inspired by the song wish you were sober by conan gray
[losers + reader are 16+]
if someone were to ask you when you fell in love with richie, you don’t think you’d be able to answer them.
was it when you met him, thirteen and wild and so magnetic you couldn’t stay away from him? was it when you followed him into a sewer, endlessly terrified but trying to be as brave as he made you think you could be? was it when you looked at him and realized he had grown up right in front of you, and you hadn’t realized? or was it all the little moments in between, the mundane and the electric all in one?
you have no clue. all you know is this: you’re in love with richie tozier, and there’s nothing you can fucking do about it.
you bring your cup to your mouth, the edge of it pressing into your bottom lip. you don’t take a drink from it; you’re already a little buzzed, and you’re reluctant to get any drunker. you don’t want to do anything you’ll regret.
across the room from you, somehow perfectly visible despite the mass of dancing bodies separating you from him, richie leans against the wall, his arm around the waist of his girlfriend, who isn’t you.
you exhale as slowly as you can. inside of your chest, your heart feels like it is poised to shatter.
it shouldn’t shock you anymore. richie has a new girlfriend seemingly every month, a revolving-door of pretty girls that giggle when he kisses them and wear his jean jacket around school but ultimately never stay long. richie never offers explanation as to why they break up and you never ask. you’re afraid of whatever it is he might say. you’re afraid of knowing you’re not good enough for him if all of them weren’t.
you sigh. you’re such a fucking cliche. falling in love with your best friend, silently pining away as if it’ll make him notice you? you’d gag at the thought if it wasn’t your life.
a shoulder brushing against yours distracts you from your thoughts, and you glance over to see stan’s expectant face. he raises an eyebrow at you. “you alright?”
you want to scream. no, you’re not alright. you don’t think you’ve been alright since before you were officially a loser. but you can’t say that to stan, not without being perfectly honest, so you arrange your features into something resembling a smile. “what’s up, buttercup?”
stan scoffs. “you’ve been spending too much time with richie.”
will it ever stop hurting, the constant reminder of how close you are with richie but never close enough? “or he’s been spending too much time with me,” you say, sniffing arrogantly. the facade you put on sometimes is easier than breathing.
stan rolls his eyes. “sure, that’s it.” he pauses, squinting at you. “are you sure you’re okay? you look… upset, i guess.”
you snort, taking a sip of your drink as an excuse not to respond right away. your heart is in your throat at the idea of being caught. “you guess? gee, thanks stan.”
he narrows his eyes at you, his nostrils flaring slightly. behind him, bill is jumping onto mike’s back, laughing loudly. “shut up, you know what i meant. are you alright? seriously.”
you don’t give yourself time to hesitate. stan has a sixth sense for when he’s being lied to and won’t stop pestering you until you tell him the truth, and you’d like to not confess to him tonight. “yeah, stan,” you grin, feeling the lie like sawdust in your mouth. “i’m all good.”
he gives you a skeptical look, searching your face, but eventually he just sighs and nods. “alright, fine. if you need anything, you know where to find me.”
you nod back, glad you managed to escape that. “thanks, dude. hey, i’m gonna go grab a different drink, i’ll be right back.”
you don’t wait for him to say anything, or for anyone else to come with you. you just slip away, using the hordes of drunk teenagers to your advantage until you manage to get to the kitchen.
your shoulders slump, the smile you’d painted onto your face slipping away. slowly, you pour the rest of your shitty beer down the sink, opening the fridge and rifling around until you find a soda, stealing it before you can talk yourself out of it. whoever’s house this is won’t care, and besides, you think you need it.
when you leave the kitchen, your eyes fall to the spot where richie had been leaning. the wall is empty now.
pathetically, your eyes fill with tears. of course you know richie has a lot of sex, considering the self-satisfied smirk he’ll wear after getting fucked combined with the rumors that follow him like the perfume of whatever girl he’s seeing. the worst part is they aren’t even bad rumors; you’d lost count of the amount of times you had heard of how good a lover he is, or how his dick is as big as he’s often bragging, or how he does this thing with his mouth that feels like absolute heaven—
you’d heard enough. too much, probably. and it burrowed into your brain like the most insidious of weeds, sprouting thoughts you never should have let take root.
but of course richie was off fucking his girl. she was gorgeous, after all, easily one of the prettiest girls you’d ever seen, all smooth tanned skin and long blonde hair and hourglass figure. the kind of girl that richie deserved to have on his arm. the kind of girl that you would never be.
you knew this would happen. still, the pain of it takes your breath away.
you manage to stumble your way back over to the losers, greeting them with a smile that feels entirely too wooden. you play the part, laughing with bev and leaning into ben’s shoulder and gossiping quietly with eddie. you stick to your script, even when richie stumbles down the stairs sometime later with the girl tucked under his arm, both of their clothes in disarray and richie’s curls a wild mess. you’re such a seasoned professional that you barely miss a beat with eddie, even when your eyes find the hickey sucked under richie’s jaw and stay there.
for the rest of the night, you do your best to stay away from richie, always at least one loser between you two. you doubt he notices, too wrapped up in his girl. you think her name is sandy. she’s so beautiful it hurts.
eventually, you think it’s probably late enough that you can leave without raising much of a fuss. all of the other losers are still there, but bev’s already dozing against ben’s shoulder and bill is fighting a losing battle with his own drooping eyelids. you can probably slip out now, you figure, before you fall apart.
you manage to say your goodbyes as quickly as possible, waving as you turn to leave. you drove here with the others in stan’s car but it’s not too far of a walk. besides, the cold might do you some good—
a hand wraps around your wrist, jerking you back against a broad chest. when you turn, you come face to face with one richie tozier.
god, years later and he’s still the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. his jawline is sharp and square, his shoulders broad and sturdy, a whisper of the strength he will carry as a man but no less impressive now. gone are the days of the dorky kid you first met; he’d long ago traded in his hawaiian shirts for jean jackets and ripped jeans, silver rings glinting around his fingers and a chain hanging into the open collar of his t-shirt. again, you are reminded of the rumors that constantly follow him. you’re just angry they didn’t think he was hot from the very beginning.
“where are you going?” he asks, his words slurred. he’d been downing the shitty spiked punch earlier like it was his job.
you sigh, tilting your head back to look at him. there’s another hickey just to the left of his adam’s apple. “home,” you say, simply. “i’m tired.”
he frowns, stepping closer to you. the heat radiates off of him. “but i haven’t gotten to talk to you all night,” he whines, pouting ridiculously. “i missed you.”
it shouldn’t affect you. richie flirts like breathing, with anyone who will entertain him. it’s just how close you two are that means his flirting is usually aimed at you. “sorry, rich,” you say, and you find that you mean it. “next time, okay?”
his fingers release your wrist, only to catch on the curve of your waist and pull you close. the heat of his hand burns through the flimsy material of your top. you’re so focused on trying to stay upright just from that simple touch that you almost miss what he says next.
“can i come with you?” his voice is low, rough, more of a growl than anything else.
you blink, stupefied. usually you’re quicker than this, able to keep up a banter with him that’s rivaled only by him and eddie. now, you’re left tongue-tied, the endless wanting inside of you threading around your throat and choking you. “what?”
“can i come with you?” he repeats, looking down at you with his pretty eyes. his glasses slide down his nose. you fight the urge to push them back up. “we can take my truck. this party’s kind of a bore, honestly.”
you swallow, feeling your heart stutter. “what about sandy?” your mouth is so dry your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth.
richie shrugs, casual as all hell and infuriatingly attractive. “she can last without me for a bit. i’d rather hang out with my favorite girl.” he grins at you, his dimples curving into his cheek.
it makes you want to scream. he says things like this all the time, calls you doll and baby and love like he has the fucking right, constantly says you’re the most important person in his life. and yet, he doesn’t feel the same way for you as you do for him. and he never will.
still, you’re a sucker for him. your lips curl into a weak smile. “sure, rich,” you whisper; any louder and your voice will crack. “let’s get out of here.”
he doesn’t even stop to say goodbye to anyone else, just crowding against your back and walking behind you the entire way out the front door. he’s so close that his chest brushes against your shoulder blades, his fingertips grazing over your hip. you focus on not tripping.
once you’re outside, you hold your hand out, not looking at him. “keys,” you command.
he laughs, full and bright as he digs his keys out of his pocket. “yes, nurse ratched,” he teases, dropping them into your hand. “right away, nurse ratched.”
you scowl at him, turning away to stomp your way down the block to where richie parked. it’s not a long walk but the late autumn night is chilly, especially through the thin material of your top and your skirt. you shiver, wrapping your arms around yourself.
before you can really react, richie’s shrugging off his jacket, settling the heavy denim over your shoulders. he’s just wearing a plain black t-shirt underneath, the cotton clinging to his biceps and chest, and you can’t tear your eyes away, even when he murmurs, “should’ve said you were cold, doll.”
the jacket smells like him: the apple of his shampoo, the warmth of his deodorant, the smoke from his cigarettes. it shouldn’t be a pleasant scent but it is, because it means comfort. it means home. it means your best friend and the love of your life.
your shoulders slump, your hand trembling when you finally reach his truck and reach for the driver’s side handle. “thanks, richie,” you breathe, climbing into the car before he can answer.
you don’t really know what he had in mind when he asked to leave with you, but you’re too overwhelmed to handle being alone with him for too long. already, having him this close is fogging your brain. you need to get away from him so you can fall apart in peace.
you decide to just take him home and walk from there. it proves to be the best choice, because not even a minute into your drive his chin is dropping down to his chest, his eyelids closing in longer and longer blinks until finally, he’s dozing in the front seat, big body curled in your direction. it fills you with so much warmth you think you are burning from the inside out.
it should be ridiculous, how much you love him. you should be at your limit for how much you have to give, capped out a long time ago, but everyday you fall for him a little bit more. whenever he does something particularly sweet, or funny, or attractive, you feel a little more of yourself crumble away to lay at his feet. at this point, you’re more fracture than glass, crushed into a fine powder under richie’s foot.
by the time you pull into richie’s driveway, he’s snoring lightly, his glasses knocked askew on his face. part of you wants to let him sleep, but the bigger part of you knows you need to get him into the house. you already slack on your best friend duties by secretly being in love with him, you don’t need to leave him out in the cold too.
sighing, you turn the key and shut the car off, getting out and walking around to the passenger side. you shake his shoulder, gently at first, then rougher when he doesn’t respond. he grumbles, swatting at you. you can’t help but laugh, shaking him again.
“rich,” you croon, shaking him with both hands. he groans, scrunching his face up. you snicker. “c’mon asshole, you’re too heavy for me to carry.”
he pries one eye open, glaring at you. “or you’re too small to even try,” he taunts back, sticking his tongue out.
you roll your eyes, tugging him out of the car. he goes easily enough, stumbling a little bit leaning into your side as you lock the car behind you.
you weren’t kidding when you said he was heavy. he’s just so much bigger than you, tall and broad and undeniably masculine. you try your best to take some of his weight with an arm curved around his waist, but you don’t think you’re really doing anything.
the lights are all off inside, richie’s parents gone for the weekend at some conference for his dad’s work. it makes you feel better about how you two stumble around in the dark, knocking into the walls and tripping over the stairs. finally, without much incident, you make it into richie’s room, depositing him on his bed before he can fall and brain himself on his table. his desk light is on, throwing the room into shadow but just light enough for you to see his face.
his curls spread around him on his pillow, his eyes already closed. he’s on top of his covers but there’s not much you can do about that. the only thing you can do is untie his boots and pluck his glasses from his face, letting him get as comfortable as he can with his clothes still on.
you stop, looking down at him. he’s almost angelic in his sleep, peaceful and quiet for probably the only time in his life. he’s so gorgeous like this, vulnerable, unguarded. it makes you feel like a creep to be looking at this without his knowledge. or his approval.
biting your lip, you turn to the door, only stopping when you realize you still have his jacket. carefully, you shrug it off, going to lay it on his bed when his voice stops you.
“keep it.”
you look up to see his eyes half-open, locked on you. the lamp throws his face into sharp angles and shadow, but the expression on his face is soft. his fingers stretch towards you.
“it looks good on you,” he continues, his voice barely more than a whisper. “you should wear it all the time.”
you don’t know what to say, frozen at the foot of his bed. it feels like everything you’ve ever wanted, before you remember that he’s drunk and out of his mind. he probably thinks you’re sandy. there’s no way he’d ever say that to you.
but he keeps going, his voice rough, smooth velvet over steel. “you look good all the time. makes me feel insane. just wanna touch you but i can’t.”
your heartbeat is pounding in your ears. through trembling lips, you manage to get out, “what about sandy?”
he shrugs, a tiny movement that feels unsure. you’ve never seen him shy like this. the fact that sandy’s likely the reason makes you burn inside. “she’s cool and all, but she’s not you. you’re my best friend, (y/n). i love you.”
you gasp softly, nowhere near loud enough for him to hear. your heart feels like it’s being pulled in two. “i love you too, rich. more than you could ever understand.”
but he shakes his head firmly. “no, you don’t get it. i love you. you’re my—you’re my other half. my partner in crime. i’d be lost without you.” before you can respond, he sighs and whispers, “wish you were my girlfriend. not sandy.”
his eyes slip closed the next instant. as you stand there, simultaneously turned to stone and burning alive, he gives a soft snore, his features relaxing in sleep.
you stare down at him for what feels like centuries, suddenly too old to move. you look down at the jacket in your arms, then back up to him. a loose curl lays against his forehead. your fingers itch to push it behind his ear.
“i wish you were sober,” you whisper. he doesn’t twitch.
you leave the jacket laid at the foot of his bed when you go.
(part two)
#richie tozier#richie tozier imagine#richie tozier x reader#richie tozier fanfiction#the losers club#the losers club imagine#the losers club x reader#my writing
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I See You Clearly Now
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader
Warnings: 0, babeyy. Complicated human relationships, maybe.
Word Count: 5.5k, once again, what the absolute fuck, who am I
Summary: An impromptu all nighter and a very domestic day with Sam who is- he’s a crush, right? Right?
A/N: This was basically me working through my emotions for a person in my life. I don’t-
Also, this was half because of an anonymous request I got the other day that wrote “please some sam winchester x reader but maybe an au with no creepy scary things” Here you go, hon. I’d argue complicated feelings are scarier than monsters, but whatever lights your candle :)
It’s four in the morning and she doesn’t particularly know when the decision was made to ignore the black night sky or the time, or how both Madison and her mutually agreed to it, but sleep is not close in the horizon. College life is exhausting, but this week was uneventful and slow, unmoving to the point of boredom. The beers in her fridge were staring angrily back at her, and her contacts seemed to anticipate her texts. Madison was the first choice, she hadn’t seen her in a while.
And where I go / Singing song of your affection / With rhymes to your perfection / Of you
I see you clearly now / I hold you dearly now / The sun is in my eyes (x)
Meeting arranged, hugs in hello and rosy cheeks, because her apartment is always warm, beers cracked open and drunk, and now Madison is on one of her white, comfortable lounge chairs, angrily ranting about Steve Rogers and Marvel. It’s that hour of the early morning when everything feels a bit gooey and intangible, stretched and fabricated, and there’s nowhere she’d rather be, content in defending a character she loves, warm, belly full of light alcohol and midnight-made crepes. Her cat moves loosely in the room, pointedly ignoring both humans, and Y/n’s cozy and happy to see the wild motions of her friend’s hands as she yells- the mild worry in the back of her head that she’ll find a note with a noise complaint taped on her door the next morning.
For all she cares, nothing could make this any better.
The night continues, laughter over Youtube videos and reality competition failures, repeated funny clips and belly-holding, more hurting of the cheeks from the laughter, more snacks, and she’s forgotten what that feels like in her never ending, break-neck-paced everyday life.
Time passes full of smiles and even more green cans of beer. Pyjamas are worn, sleeping bags are stretched on the floor over the fluffy grey rug, her cat seemingly having found a new enemy in the whipping of the sheets in the air. They laugh at her playing with them, until she settles on her little spot over her soft blanket. The girls stretch in their makeshift beds and they talk, texts are shot to other friends, also awake, selfies full of grins and-
“Sam says hello,” is all Madison has to say for Y/n to suddenly feel his absence in the room.
Sam. Of course.
“Gimme your phone.” Tipsy voice message with off-key singing sent. More happy smiles. A reply, a voice message of his own- “I’m glad you two are having fun. Where are you guys?”.
Y/n’s place, the reply is sent.
“Should I tell him to come by?” And Y/n has to hold her heart in steel hands to force it not to jump out of her chest and straight into her throat. Somehow, Sam always shows up when Madison calls, she thinks, a bitter taste in her mouth. Jealousy. Bottom lip bitten.
“Of course, if he wants to.” She hates to admit she’s excited to see him. Hates it, because she hasn’t talked to him in five months- not properly anyways- and the idea that Madison somehow is always in contact with him makes the familiar knife twist. The two had dated, sure, they’re friends now, a chemistry shared between them that’s inexplicable. It makes her wonder how two people can be so familiar with each other, how they can always be so fucking happy, bouncing off of each other, the sparks fly, people wonder why they broke up (Madison fell in love with someone else. Y/n doesn’t know how Sam reacted.)
Madison and her are friends, sure, but it seems everyone from that side of her friendships is close, but not enough to touch, so Madison never talked about it to her. Sam didn’t either. In fact Sam never even mentioned they’re dating. Sam never ever talks about his relationships. Not to her. He once told her, in that one phone call that lasted four hours until 6 in the morning, the one she can’t seem to forget, that he thinks his love life is nobody’s business. He’s vulnerable with it. Doesn’t share it ever with pretty much anyone (he’d share it with Madison, she thinks bitterly.) Sam, additionally, rarely answers her texts.
They’re in this weird limbo situation. She’d confessed her affection about a year ago, New Year’s eve and festive spirits, influenced by champagne and encouraging friends, and she’d received an “I wondered about us too, but I’m honestly in a weird place, unsure. I really enjoy your company, though, I think you’re really cool and I am very happy with how we are now. Friends.” No dice. She took it in stride. She’s fine with it. No really, she is. Over it.
Then Madison hooked up with him. That one hurt.
They’d talked about it- with Madison that is- because they’re friends, Madison had also been jealous -before Y/n’s confession, when Sam seemed sorta into her and things were going well- and had urged her to go for it. Y/n had shared the sentiment (“If you two end up doing anything, I’m fine with it, it’s really none of my business. You’ve been his friend for longer than I have.”) and she had really meant it. But then Sam didn’t want her, and he ran off in the sunset with Madison for a grand total of three months, and rotten feelings were there in every other step Y/n took.
Now though, she’s fine. Sam has a different pace than her, she knows it now, has come to terms with it. He’s such a gentle, loving creature, so caring and passionate and smart and kind, with those wonderful eyes and his soft hair and the scent that makes her weak in the knees. She’ll have him in her life if that means a single four hour phone call every six months and loose texts here and there- sent by her of course, because he rarely ever texts first for some infuriating reason, and she panics he’s gonna forget her. Other than that, she’s come to terms with the fact that they’ll always be distant friends, that she’ll admire him from afar and he’ll maybe think about her once a month.
He always seems so happy to see her, though. He’s so fucking difficult to decipher.
“He’s on his way.” Brought back to the present by Madison’s statement, Y/n sulks back in her seat, a small, excited smile crossing her features. She’s happy to see him. She missed him.
He’s making his way through the other side of town, though. He’ll be here in two hours just to see them, and her heart flutters.
Till then, Madison lays in her sleeping bag turns out the lights, Y/n’s cat stretches sleepily, and Y/n doesn’t fall asleep, anxious she won’t hear him ring her bell, won’t hear her phone or Madison’s at his call. She’s only slightly desperate.
Time has slipped to six in the morning. Y/n’s eyes are wide open, her head woozy from the fatigue and the alcohol, but, when the rug vibrates with the ring of Madison’s phone, she jumps. She jumps, and so does her heart, skips a beat, because he’s here and she hasn’t seen him since the summer and she just wants to hug him hello.
“Pst! Madison.” With a slap of her hand over her phone, Madison, in a lump on the floor, pulls the phone and balances it on the cut of her cheekbone, speaker over her ear, while her hand slumps back under the sleeping bag. Nelly- Y/n’s cat- blinks lazily, spooked by the sound of the phone call, but ultimately, not giving it much attention.
“Hm? Yeah. Mkay,” sleepy, mumbled words muttered into the phone. At least someone caught some shut-eye between them. “Bring some beers.” A small chuckle, a shake of her shoulders. “Oh yah.” Another laugh. “Hmph, buzzkill.”
Y/n is turning on a small light, just until the sun rises properly up the sky, because everything is currently a little dark still.
“Atta boy. We’re waiting for you.” Another short laugh. Madison hangs up turns on her back, and her phone falls off her face as she stretches, smiles, arms slumping over her chest. She doesn’t offer much information about the phone call. Not ten minutes later, the doorbell rings.
Y/n stumbles, sheets tangling on her legs, nearly tripping, to buzz him in.
He walks up the stairs, and she sees his head rise over the edge of the top step, a crooked smile on his pretty lips and she smiles back brightly. Arms raised over his head, he shows a plastic bag, clinking glass inside, and he whoops slightly. Y/n grins, throwing a victorious fist in the air.
“The feast continues!” And Sam laughs, toothy and bright as the sun. Y/n attacks him with a hug.
Warm arms stretch around her, hold her close, warm and tight, and he still smells heavenly, like he showered before he left his house. He smells like freshly cleaned clothes and vanilla scented body wash, like the seat of his car, deodorant and a deep, musky smell she can’t quite place.
My God, she’s missed him.
Madison is still on the floor of Y/n’s bedroom, mumbling her hello and burrowing a little in her sheets. Sam kneels down and hugs her, and she hugs back. “Nice to see you, dick”
“Runt,” he replies with a nod, as if he tips off his hat to her. Carefully, Sam also kneels next to Nelly, scritches under her little chin and whispers his soft greeting, to which the cat responds with a low purr and the bending of her head to give him a little more room. Sam smiles, and Y/n can feel her eyes being shaped into comically large hearts.
“M’God,” Madison groans. “I wanna stay awake but ugh.” Y/n smiles gently.
“Go back to bed. I have an appointment with my therapist in four hours though.” Madison nods numbly.
“Wake me up in three and a half, I’ll leave.” Y/n and Sam share a look and the former shrugs.
“Okay.”
Madison shifts, puts her headphones on and shuts her heavy eyelids, pretty much instantly falling asleep. Y/n is running on battery saver mode, enhanced by the incredible amount of adrenaline Sam’s presence seems to bring.
She nods for him to follow her and grabs her laptop, dumping herself on her living room couch, Sam closing the bedroom door behind himself and following her lead. He deposits most of the beers in the fridge and keeps two, which he opens. Y/n watches his ease in her kitchen, even though he’s never been here before and her heart wiggles in content.
He sits next to her on the couch, keeping a barely there distance between them, as she pushes the screen open. Despite all the feelings that have manifested in her chest over the relatively short time she’s known him, Sam and her really hit it off since day one. She met him during a surprise party thrown for Madison. Sam brought the cake, Y/n the candles and the lighter, and other friends brought alcohol, plastic plates that were never opened and cutlery.
The whole group had waited under Madison’s building, singing a very cheerful happy birthday, loudly enough for their voices to grow hoarse, and for Madison’s eyes to roll back into her skull with a sheepish smile. They had walked to a park, sat down and feasted on the cake straight from the pastry box, yet Sam was talking with Y/n on the swings a little ways to the right, away from the cheerful company, talking about fond childhood memories, about his brother, about their favourite movies. Y/n felt it, felt her heart drooping low, the familiar feeling of wanting to impress someone, to be liked by them. Even then, under whatever stars could be seen in their city, she knew he was gonna be trouble.
Beer bottle passed, and she clinks hers on his cheekily, receiving a tip of his head and a half-smile in response. Decided sips. Bottles held against bent knees as they both fold them like pretzels. Small talk about college, about recent misadventures and drunken phone calls, and soon she gets the urge to fill their time with something.
“Movie?” she asks, and Sam just seems on board.
“What do you have?”
And he ducks close to her and checks out the titles. “Do you wanna watch Hamilton? I’ve heard it’s really good.”
“YES, Sam,” enthusiastic and loud. Sam grins. They settle back on the couch.
Fifteen minutes into the play, Y/n doesn’t even hesitate, doesn’t ask and doesn’t preface by saying anything. With all the naturalism that their relationship has, all the affection she knows Sam has to give, she scooches closer to him and leans her head on his shoulder, hugs his arm to her chest, and he leans into her comfortably. “This okay?” The answer she looks for comes in the form of him leaning his head down on top of hers gently.
They watch two thirds of the play before they both get increasingly tired, since it’s a three hour performance. Their brains are kinda mushed, especially because of the lack of sleep, but they happily gush about how well made it is and Sam spews facts left and right about the price of the tickets, the actors and how the British royal family has gone to see it in-person.
“God, I wish I had the money to go up to NYC and watch it myself. I’ve never been to Broadway.” She sighs under his arm, which is now placed around her shoulders. Sam nods in agreement.
“Yeah, that must be so amazing to see in person.”
Bedroom door creaking open, Sam and Y/n separate from each other slowly as they watch Madison trudge to the living room like a phantom, a hand on her lower back.
“My God, Y/n, your floor is not hospitable at all.”
“Awh, I’m sorry.” Sam laughs next to her. “I don’t know why you didn’t move to the bed, though.” Madison glares, facepalms with a wince -the movement seems to rattle the spot that’s sore somehow- and shakes her head. “I didn’t- it- it didn’t cross my mind.”
Deep chuckles in amusement all around. Madison picks her stuff up. Y/n makes all of them some coffee, which they all quietly sip in the diminishing silence of the city waking up just outside their window.
The time for Y/n’s appointment approaches rapidly, and Madison waves goodbye, kisses both people on their cheeks and drives herself home. Y/n isn’t sure if Sam will stick around, so she checks the time awkwardly. She’d feel terrible to let him make his way back to other side of town just for these wimpy three hours wasted on tiredly catching up and watching a movie.
“Listen,” she says, and Sam’s attention is drawn from his coffee cup. “I’m gonna go to my bedroom, have my appointment, because we do it over Zoom anyway. You hang around, chill, and I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Alright,” Sam agrees gently. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
*
A painful, soul-straining hour later, wiping dry tear stains off her cheeks, Y/n makes her way to the living room, half forgetting Sam is even there. And boy if he’s there.
He’s stretched on her couch, legs barely fitting as he leans on the arm rest, ankles crossed, and a book he’s picked up from her bookshelf in his hands, while Nelly sleeps peacefully in his lap, finding comfort in his warmth. He hasn’t made an intense amount of progress, probably 50 or 60 pages in, but he seems invested, and for the seconds it takes him to notice her, Y/n admires him a little. Under the morning light through her thin, sheer curtains, rays are angled perfectly to make his cheekbones all the sharper, he, comfortable enough to relax in her worn-in couch. He looks so at home, and after such an emotionally draining hour, it’s so good to see someone who’s gentle, someone so familiar, waiting for her in her personal space, with her cat, as if he belongs there. It makes her heart do all sorts of stunts.
It seems he notices her from the corner of his eye though, and he puts the book down.
“Hey,” he tells her softly. “Are you good?”
“Uh,” she thinks for a second, pinches the bridge of her nose. “Yeah. I’m okay.” An offered smile, small and soft.
“Alright,” as if saying I’m choosing to believe you. “Have you read this yet?” He holds up a bright orange book, a small thing titled the Alchemist by Paolo Coelho. An offered change of subject. She smiles.
“Yeah, I have.” He folds his legs with a soft apology to Nelly who jumps off disgruntled, and Y/n takes it as a sign to sit on the couch next to him. His feet rest against her thighs, knees bent still.
“It’s so…” He sighs, struggles to find the words. “I mean, it’s not something I’d usually go for. It kind of feels childish and simple, but it’s so beautiful.” He seems slightly confused, surprised to find something he thought may be silly to be actually really good.
“I know right? It feels really simplistic, but some of the stuff it says is so eye-opening.”
“Listen to this,” he says and sits a little straighter, fixing the pillow on his back a little. “We are travelers on a cosmic journey, stardust, swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share. This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity.”
It’s like he chose the quote specifically for her, for this particular moment. A look is thrown his way, and he smiles crookedly. “I, uhm…” he rubs the back of his neck. “I just heard you crying, is all.” A nervous shrug. Y/n feels exhausted, drained, but in that little smile, that warmth, she feels like tearing up all over again at how fucking sweet he is. She pushes at his legs and reaches out to him for a hug, which he welcomes. She sighs.
“Thank you, Sam.”
****
Eventually, they get up. They move to the kitchen and make grilled cheese sandwiches and tea, and Sam leans against her counter as he watches her take out plates from her cupboards, Nelly prancing around with distant meows for attention. Y/n picks large mugs, puts honey in hers and serves their half breakfast on the kitchen island. They eat under light conversation about dogs in social media and pets, and Sam sorta looks like he’s always been there, like this is the life they’ve always lived.
Hot mugs cupped in thick sleeve-covered hands. Bodies curling up on different ends of a couch. Comfortable conversation continues. Topic shifted to something more serious, and Sam tells her things, talks about how he’s grown mentally, how he understands himself a little better and how he wants to try therapy. She’s happy to see him like this, being -if only slightly- more open about himself, about how he is, not closing himself up, not fooling himself into believing he can shoulder the world alone. Y/n gives him her therapist’s phone number, tells him she’s proud of him and shares her own stories. She ruffles his hair and smiles affectionately, and Sam thanks her. Their mugs empty. Her heart grows fuller.
While moving back to the bedroom, Sam kneels next to Nelly. He offers her his hand, lets her sniff it, scritches the top of her soft little forehead, and Nelly pulls away, sniffing, wagging her tail in short annoyance. “Is that not okay? Alright, I’m sorry, honey,” he whispers to her gently, watches her lick his fingers for a second before settling back in her cat bed and watching him wearily. Sam gets the message and he pulls away, and Y/n’s never, ever seen anyone interact with her cat this way. Respectful and kind (and if that ain’t Sam, alright) and her heart lurches a bit. Of course Sam, practically the perfect guy, would test her cat’s boundaries as if she’s a human, and then never push them again. She sighs.
They end up on her bed. Sat next to each other. Laptop in front of her, heavy conversation discarded, set down for now, and she searches for her favourite stand-up comedians to show him, because she knows his sense of humour and he’s gonna love them, she’s sure. Yet, as she’s scrolling, Sam does the unspeakable, and slides behind her, one leg either side of her, arms going around her.
“ ‘M sorry, I needed a hug,” he tells her, and she curls her own arms over his, leaning back against him.
“Anytime,” she promises and means every syllable. “You can stay like that if you want,” she tells him as well, and feels his chin on her shoulder as he nods, a huffed out breath softly knocking on the bare skin of her neck. She sighs into him. Gets comfortable, pulls the laptop on her lap -can you see well?- and lets herself be entertained, relishing Sam’s laughter against her back. She smiles, because this finally feels good. She doesn’t yearn, doesn’t look for anything more. She’s ultimately incredibly happy with where they are, with all of this warm affection. There’s no butterflies, just comfort, just love and care and tired laughter that fills her mouth with honey. The sun is in her eyes.
Not ten minutes later he shifts, stretches his legs and pulls her more comfortably against him. With gentle fingers, he pushes two strands of hair behind her ear, to the side, touch so soft she barely feels it, repositions his chin on her shoulder and breathes out calmly and Y/n shivers. He holds her securely and she, well, she dares dream, dares feel what this would be like in a different context, and while there’s a little yearning this time, to remember what it’s like to want someone and to be wanted, to know what it’s like to be Sam’s, what it’s like to be held with utter security, knowledge that you’ll never be let go of, it’s not overpowering. She feels its presence, but it feels more like an old friend than a menace. She’s content. Finally. The opposing feelings seem to tame each other.
Something close to an hour passes. They make food, some creamy pasta just to hold them over until dinner. He stirs the pot while she shows him a funny video on her phone. They eat in comfortable silence, and Y/n feels the urge to tangle her legs with his under the table, but she doesn’t, terrified she’ll push him away, ruin this bubble of comfort and naturalism by taking things a step too far. What is too far, she wonders. She’ll let him take the lead, if that means he’ll continue being this physically close to her.
Sam washes the dishes. Y/n pecks his cheek in thanks. His smile is radiant.
They stretch next to each other on her bed, scroll through their texts, send silly pictures to mutual friends. The mistake she makes is when she grabs his phone and takes a really, and she means really, ugly picture. A zillion chins, pinched eyebrows, curved lips and tongue out, hands his phone back and contemplates the consequences.
“Gimme that back, you shouldn’t have that,” decided and regretful. Sam and his noodle, twelve feet long limbs hold the phone as far from her as possible and Y/n growls and laughs, stretches, tries to grab it off him. “Sam!”
“You really think I’m gonna pass this up?” he scoffs with a grin, and she yells his name, accusatory and playful.
“Give it BACK, my face is in there! Privacy infringement!” She yells. “You should know, you’re a lawyer!”
“But you willingly saved the picture in a phone that’s not yours!” Arms stretched high, laughter booming and loud, and she scrambles.
“Your word against mine!”
“You can be seen holding the phone yourself!” She growls again, tries to pull his arm down, tickles his side and he jerks and laughs. Y/n tries to throw a leg over his to hold him down, but Sam’s too quick, too strong. They fumble, thrash, tangled limbs, throat aching full of laughter, struggling and yelling useless threats.
Sam throws the phone on the rug and huffs, visibly almost done with her, like she’s an annoying but entertaining bug. He grips her hands, her left and right in his respectively, throws his leg over her waist, twists and straddles her, hands now over her head.
Heavy breaths. They pant, stare at each other, Sam shakes his head like a dog to get his hair out of his face.
“You can’t win,” he tells her with a confident smile. She narrows her eyes.
“Have you learned nothing from this friendship?” She blows a hair away from her face and looks at him smiling. “I don’t give up that easy,” coy smile, a promise, wink sent his way, and suddenly she’s thrusting up her pelvis, trying desperately to scooch up the bed with the rest of her body, but the grip on her wrists tightens, Sam barely budging. She struggles, drags her body up, fueled by pure determination and spite, wiggles fiercely and just barely manages to get on her belly, which seems like a mistake in hindsight.
Because now her hands are crossed, he’s basically got her on a choke hold with her own forearms, and she’s eagerly trying to get her knees under her, while Sam laughs loudly at grumbled comments like “What the fuck kinda core strength do you have, fucking behemoth.” The sheets get wrinkled and pulled off the edges of her mattress, her pillows get pushed to the side, to the floor, the struggle continues and her stomach and throat hurt from all the laughter, but she really can’t seem to get the upper hand, which would be obvious if someone so much as threw a look at both of them. Sam’s six feet and two full of young, sinewy muscle, a boy- a man, really- with biceps that may not be particularly thick, but the iron grip on her wrists says something else. His hands are the size of her face. Strength is not the way she should be going about this.
She twists again, barely able to get back on her back, and she pants. The asshole looks barely winded and her eyes narrow, him raising an eyebrow challengingly. What to do, what to do?
Y/n relaxes, but Sam doesn’t. She takes a breath, grins briefly up at his momentarily confused face, then yanks her hands up the bed, making him jerk down so he can keep her under his grip and-
And she kisses him.
Nothing long or particularly sexy, just a rough push of her mouth on his, and an ‘umph’ escapes him in surprise.
Sam startles, his grip loosens, and her hands are pulled free of his hold, kicking away from him and managing a small distance apart from his warm body, knees pulled up to her chest and panting fast and loud.
Okay, it seemed smart in that moment. It really did. But for a grand total of five eternally long seconds later, her heart shrinks, diminishes to ash and dust and regret. Sam’s kaleidoscopic eyes are wide, pupils blown, and he, too, is panting.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, is all she can think, so much for not pushing his boundaries, not rushing his pace. How will you ever look in his eyes again?
“Too much?” And he blinks at her, clearly still processing. “I’m sorry, Sam, I- I didn’t mean-”
But then a hand cups her jaw, warm and big and gentle, pulls her face close to his, and his lips are there, pressed on hers. Y/n’s motionless for just a second- she’s dreamt of this for so long, over a year and a half, and it’s happening in the cheesiest way possible- and Sam is on his knees, weight rested on his other hand, reaching for her, he’s kissing her, and move, dammit, do something! A hand grips his wrist, and she pushes herself closer to him, a huff pushed out of Sam’s nose, and her stomach flips in so many stunning, wonderful ways.
Her legs fall to the side, she meets him half-way and kisses him and Sam follows just as fiercely, falls back on his haunches. His hands push under her shoulders, lift her up onto his lap, grab the back of her knees and pull them around his hips and Y/n goes willingly. She holds the sides of his face carefully and parts her lips, and Sam licks into them with caution, curls his strong arms around her waist and sighs into her mouth.
Y/n pulls away. So much for boundaries.
She blinks down at him. Sam’s eyes stay closed for a second longer, peering up at her then. He waits for her to say something. Fingers push his hair back gently, she nudges her nose with his and smiles.
“I win.” Earning a long, dramatic eye roll.
“I had you in a choke hold with your own arms, Y/n.” and her name rolls off his tongue so sweetly. She clicks her tongue.
“Yet here we are,” she whispers, looks down at him and he shakes his head with a sigh. His eyes fall on her lips once more and he gently chews the inside of his cheek. One large paw cups the side of her head and he kisses her slowly once more before pulling away, thumbing at her cheek.
They smile.
****
The sun has descended beneath the horizon, so early it’s kind of comical, but it doesn’t feel like it’s 6 pm anyway, because neither of them has slept at all. Time has lost meaning and form the past two days, everything feels surreal and fake because of the lack of sleep, and now here they are, under warm fairy lights, laying in her bed. There’s been kisses here and there, gently roaming hands, not moving further than that, and again, Y/n doesn’t need anything more. She’s content where she is, surprised she even made it this far. The affection they’ve shared is scarcely fierce and feral, simply quiet, tender, innate. Nothing particularly passionate or aggressive, just warmth and comfort, shielded vulnerability hidden behind brief liplocks. Y/n’s more than okay with it.
She’s laying on his chest, arm around his waist and ear over his heart and they doze together under dim lighting, limbs heavy, hearts feathery light. Sam’s arm falls around her back, pulls her close. She nuzzles his chest.
It’s just so easy to be with him. Around him.
Y/n wonders where they stand after this. If he’ll text her more. If it’ll go back to the occasional long phone call, the random outings because Madison texts him while she’s with Y/n. Will they ever be like this again? How much does she care?
Because, although somewhat pivotal for her view on affection, and tenderness and friendship, ambit stretched now, definitions altered in her mind, she feels that no real barrier has broken, shifted even. They’re still friends. They’re not partners, he’s not her boyfriend and it’s honestly fine. No, really, it is. She’s genuinely okay.
Would she like to see what it’s like to date him? Of course she would. Of course she wants to know what it feels like to know he wants her and only her, wants to know she can hold his hand, can kiss him no matter where they are or with whom, without crossing invisible boundaries tentatively like she did today. Planning dates and late night movie nights and early morning beers with shared drunken kisses.
She just wishes she knew what it’s like to have free access to this sort of affection with someone, and maybe that’s the thing. Sam feels like a good someone to have that with, but at the same time, maybe it’s what he told her on New Year’s and the way he likes to be, maybe it’s the understanding that they’re really not particularly meant to be together, cosmically in love, soulmates, whatever-the-hell, but there’s no dipping of the stomach, no heart rate accelerating, no feeling of being high or drunk. Maybe Y/n just wants someone, anyone to be with, to know she can fall for, and while Sam is warm and funny and familiar and oh so wonderful, while he looks like a great candidate to be in a relationship with, while her heart flips at the possibility of having any semblance of romance in her life, of him in her house, her couch, with her books and his warm hugs, maybe he’d been right. Maybe he knew something too painful to tell her back then, when she confessed her attraction, back when things were raw and bruised and painful to the touch. Sam and her, well… they seem good in theory. They are fun, and safe, they care for one another. They share alcohol bottles easily, common interests, kindness and heeps of love to give. They make sense in a way. But- it’s just not clicking, is it?
This is just… this. Affection for the sake of affection, not romance. And that’s okay to have, more than okay, even. It’s great. It’s comforting. It’s safe, and it’s simple. They can kiss. They can hug. They can cuddle together, and brush each other’s hair away from their faces. Y/n can admire his eyes while he cleans the dishes they ate lunch in. And it can all amount to nothing, without it feeling like band-aids being ripped off bleeding wounds without a warning.
In the words of her mother, why are human relationships so god damn complicated? Why does this one have to be too?
Y/n is content to be in his arms, to philosophically discuss, and open up and talk freely. She’s content with them giggling and wrestling and kissing in between, and they can share their music and their book quotes and their love for one another. It’s just surface level affection. If not surface level, then friendship level. Why is that not enough? Maybe not all relationships have to be tipped in the romantic pink light, and maybe, just maybe that’s okay.
She gazes up at him, rests her chin on his chest, and Sam blinks his lazy, drowsy eyelids open to look down at her sweetly, offers a small and a caress of his hand on her back. And for once, Y/n is completely satisfied with just this, and nothing more.
*****
A/N 2: I reread this and it felt like I reached a conclusion to something gigantic and cosmic, but this seems so simple. I should know all this by now. *huff*
please tell me what you thought of this!
Forevers:
@deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @deanssweetheart23 @nostalgic-uncertainty @mogaruke @superseejay721517 @lady-hawkguy @thosefeelsarereal @superwholockmarauder @justiceiswater @petra-arkanian-1497 @heyitscam99 @danijimenezv @aj-reuth @unicornblood4ever @mystriee @sadist-fangirl23 @asguardiansoftheavengers @superrandomnatural @altosaxplayer098 @winter-moons @hunterswearingplaid @novaddictx @choosemyname @live-like-a-girl @thisismysecrethappyplace @bowtomytenderaddiction @elara98azalea @lemondropirwin @emmagolden4118 @glitchcypher @calaofnoldor @paradoxical-sleep @narynechan @canwenotdothis @suicidepanda07 @blueaura
Sam Stuff:
@kymberlytorres @theboykingsamwinchester @depressed-moose-78 @andi-mendes-barnes @captainmarvelcorps @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away @nellachain @percywinchester27
#sam x reader#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x fem!reader#sam x fem!reader#sam x female!reader#sam winchester x female!reader#spn fanfiction#supernatural#sam fluff#spn fluff#spn sam#sam winchester#winchester fluff#sam winchester comfort#domesticity and things#basically my whole psyche in a tumblr post?#geez#i've ascended from tartarus to drop this and will be returning shortly#hope you enjoy it!
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Alright y’all, with the release of Mass Effect: Legendary Edition, it’s time for me to share my playlist for the entire trilogy.
I’ve refined this over like six years so scientifically speaking it’s probably good right. oh also it’s four hours long. so if you have a road trip or a boring job, this one’s for you. disclaimer, it’s entirely possible I have garbage taste in music. I also missed some characters and moments because there’s 65 songs here and I am merely human.
If you don’t have the patience for four hours, I recommend starting at track 45 and listening to the end, as the Mass Effect 3 portion is the strongest in my opinion.
UNDER THE CUT FOR DESCRIPTIONS WE GO!
FIRST MOVEMENT - MASS EFFECT 1
1. Atlas - Coldplay Eden Prime
“Sometimes the wire Must tense for the note Caught in the fire, say oh We're about to explode“
I really like the atmosphere of this song. It’s ominous, but also somehow hopeful, and makes me feel like Something Huge Is Coming.
2. I Will Not Sing A Hateful Song - Constantines Paragon Shepard
“But I was also born and raised To always speak and listen clear To know the last sound that I make Could be the last sound that I hear“
OK, listen, I think this song is about vampires, and I’m not sure if it’s supposed to be a metaphor or not. But I think this is a great song about controlling one’s temper, about knowing that you have to Rise Above the parts of you that want to lash out sometimes to get things done and have peace. Seeing as how paragon Shepard, to me, always seems like they’re three deep breaths away from snapping, but manage to keep it in check, it fits them to a T.
And also maybe they’re a vampire.
3. Hard to Kill - Beth Crowley Renegade Shepard
“So I let the rumors Turn me into a legend 'Cause I'm only human But a good myth is hard to kill”
This one’s a recent addition, but holy cow, I love it for Renegade Shep, particularly an Earthborn or Ruthless, but it works for any of them.
4. We Own the Skies - Five Iron Frenzy Joker
“My hands are bleeding where they often crack The stars will sometimes burn with longing Through the choking black Of night shifts piling each against the next”
This really vibes with Joker’s backstory for me, his super driven serious self in flight school, contrasted with who he is when he can fly a ship. He’s the best pilot in the goddamn fleet and I love him.
5. I Just Wanna See - Smash Mouth Kaidan Alenko
“Mister moon checkin' on how y'all livin' The stars all winkin' at the day that's dimmin' I just wanna see”
This song fits into his reactions to first showing up at the Citadel and his former romanticism about living in space. Ironically, it’s a song about Earth, but I feel like it works well for him. Also, Smash Mouth absolutely sounds like the kind of music Kaidan would listen to, no I will not be taking questions or constructive criticism.
6. Don’t Give Up - Noisettes Ashley Williams
“She's got a talented face and a suitcase Ain't got no desire to go no place In her case she's got no desire with her hand in the flame say's she don't feel the fire “
The energy of this song is just perfect for Ashley’s no-nonsense chip on her shoulder attitude.
7. About As Helpful As You Can Be Without Being Any Help At All - Dan Mangan The Council
“I was thrown in the boat/Cast out to sea Friendly with waves/There were sharks below Hungry for me/So I dangled my leg”
I mean, the title says it all.
8. The Captain - Guster Anderson
“Courageous, just like the captain Marching forward with no doubt in his head”
I have adored this song ever since my friend played it for me, and it’s the ultimate mentor-protégé jam for me.
9. Secret Agent Man - Johnny Rivers Garrus Vakarian
“Here's a man who leads a life of danger To everyone he meets he stays a stranger Oh, with every move he makes another chance he takes The odds are he won't live to see tomorrow”
I have to poke a little fun at Garrus and how seriously he takes himself in Mass Effect 1. I romanced him across four playthrus, I’m allowed!
10. I’m Getting Too Old For This Shit - Kill Lincoln Urdnot Wrex
“This random apathy/I swear it's killing me But I guess it's all the same, till the devil knows my name”
I don’t know ANYTHING about this band, but this song fits Wrex’s disillusionment with the Krogan well, plus, like. The title. (And also, that he secretly DOES care what happens to the Krogan.)
11. Bird Song - Juniper Vale Tali’zorah nar Rayya
“I want to dance on the horizon line But there is something I am caged behind I have a heart made for take flight But I'm low, so low”
I adore this song and the sound of Juniper Vale in general. The etherealness of this one, combined with the youthful optimism, feels very Tali. The line about ‘something I am caged behind’ works well for the suits, too. This one’s especially good if you’re a Talimancer!
12. 11. Green Garden - Laura Mvula Liara T’Soni
“And I’ll fly on the wings of a butterfly High as a tree top and down again Putting my bag down, taking my shoes off Walk on the carpet of green velvet”
I really like this song’s vibes and I feel like Liara fits it well, particularly in ME1, before all her youthful optimism is stripped from her. The scenery descriptions feel very Thessia, too.
13. Feed Me (Git It) - Little Shop of Horrors The Thorian
“The guy sure looks like plant food to me!”
Do you get it. Do you get my joke. It’s because the Thorian is a plant that eats people. (I’m not funny)
14. Blindness - Metric Matriarch Benezia
“I was a blind fool, never complained All the survivors singing in the rain “
I don’t love the use of blind here as a negative, albeit metaphorical, descriptor, but I think this song fits Benezia’s indoctrination and death well. If you have suggestions for another, though, let me know!
15. Technologic - Daft Punk Saren
“Buy it, use it, break it, fix it, trash it, change it, mail, upgrade it”
I just think it’s Neat
16. Watershed - Vienna Teng The Reapers
“ While you were building your empires I was still sleeping”
I think this is the song that inspired the entire playlist. Vienna Teng sat down and decided to write a song from the perspective of a natural disaster, and it’s so ominous and gut-wrenching.
17. Hourglass - The Hush Sound Virmire
“This is how it ends We believe every lie and say we'll be friends How long will it last? Before we scratch all the scripts and we rework the cast “
hahahahah rework the cast get it because you have to pick who DIES
Seriously tho I really like this song for Virmire and that moment of choice that feels like it lasts 100 years on some playthroughts.
18. Pompeii - Bastille The Siege of the Citadel
“ And the walls kept tumbling down In the city that we love”
Throwback to when this song was on the radio like three times an hour. Which is around the time I made the first draft of this playlist, incidentally! It’s such a good Final Battle Jam for the Citadel, and the part about “if you close your eyes/does it almost feel like nothing’s changed at all” I think work really well for Shepard in this sequence. Shepard knew the Reapers were coming, had been fighting them all along; this attack on the Citadel is just retreading familiar territory for them, as horrifying as the war being brought to their doorstep is for the Citadel’s citizens and the council. James Vega has some good dialogue about that kind of thing in ME3.
INTERLUDE THE FIRST
19. Starships - Nicki Minaj The Normandy Crew
Starships were meant to fly Hands up and touch the sky
I like to have a little fun OK
20. Gravity - Yoko Kanno The Death of Commander Shepard
“Am I alone? is somebody there beyond these heavy aching feet still the road keeps on telling me to go on”
Welcome to mood whiplash, it’s my specialty! This is the part where you die. I think it also works for her coma very well, when she’s just drifting between life and death, not sure what’s going on, but something keeps trying to pull her back to the world.
SECOND MOVEMENT - MASS EFFECT 2
21. The Phoenix - Fall Out Boy The Lazarus Project
“Hey young blood, doesn't it feel like our time is running out? I'm gonna change you like a remix Then I'll raise you like a phoenix “
this song has no right to go as hard as it does and if you think it’s melodramatic shut up
22. My Body Is A Cage - Peter Gabriel Commander Shepard
“I'm living in an age Whose name I don't know Though the fear keeps me moving Still my heart beats so slow “
This works particularly well if you romanced The Virmire Survivor, but this song captures the energy of Shepard freaking out bc they are trapped with Cerberus, because Cerberus rebuilt their body from the ground up. That jarring, caged feeling is so palpable in ME2 that when they gave me back Joker the first time I played, I BURST INTO SOBS from relief.
23. The Lady is a Vamp - The Spice Girls Miranda Lawson
“That's all in the past, legends built to last But she's got something new”
Listen. She’s a bond babe. Handbags, heels and pistols rock. She’s got class. This is a song about Miranda. That is all.
24. Kryptonite - 3 Doors Down Jacob Taylor
“ I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon After all I knew, it had to be something to do with you “
This one’s about the Vibes for me. Also can apply to his past relationship with Miranda. I’m also super showing my age on this song, oof haha.
25. Stable Song - Death Cab For Cutie Colony Abduction
“Rows of deserted houses all Our stable mates highway bound “
I really like the mood of this one for showing up on the very first abducted colony, the eerieness and sadness of it all and Shepard’s resolve to do something about it.
26. Konichiwa Bitches - Robyn Kasumi Goto
“I'm so very hot that when I rob your mansion You ain't call the cops, you call the fire station”
THAT COUPLET ALONE MAKES THE ENTIRE SONG. I love how playful and cheeky it is.
27. Seven Nation Army Glitch Mob Remix - The White Stripes, Glitch Mob Zaeed Massani
“And I'm talking to myself at night Because I can't forget Back and forth through my mind Behind a cigarette”
Pretty sure we all had this on some playlist or another when it came out, and it’s the perfect Badass With A Grudge song.
28. Science is Real - They Might Be Giants Mordin Solus
“ And when a theory emerges Consistent with the facts The proof is with science The truth is with science “
This one actually got added by my wife to replace a song that wasn’t on Spotify, but that has the same energy; Hank Green’s “I Fucking Love Science”. I get more into the emotional side of Mordin in the ME3 section, but I also really just love his Hamster On Coffee energy and this song captures it really well.
29. Prove Yourself - Radiohead Garrus Vakarian
“I can't afford to breathe in this town Nowhere to sit without a gun in my hand Hooked back up to the cathode ray
I'm better off dead “
The absolute rock bottom mental state Garrus is in when you get back to him in ME2 is so heartwrenching. Might not always agree with my boy’s methods, but he’s one of my favorite fictional characters of all time.
30. Rat a Tat - Fallout Boy Feat. Courtney Love Jack
“We are professional ashes of roses, this kerosene's live You settled your score, this is where you come to beg”
It helps that Courtney Love sounds exactly like Jack to me, NGL.
31. Defeat You - Smash Mouth Grunt
“Hey I know what you've done It makes it that much better to defeat you “
Only I am brave enough to put two songs by Smash Mouth on the same playlist, to be shared in 2021
32. The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot - Brand New Horizon/The Virmire Survivor
“If it makes you less sad I will die by your hand Hope you find out what you want Already know what I am “
Hits harder if you romanced the Virmire Survivor. Mostly from Shep’s perspective. This is a Shep that feels Bad after that encounter rather than Mad, so Your Mileage May Vary.
33. Violet Stars Happy Hunting! - Janelle Monae Tali’zorah vas Neema
“I'm an alien from outer space I'm a cyber-girl without a face a heart or a mind”
I just like the vibes of this one for Tali! I know it’s more about an actual AI but...IDK. I like it. So there.
34. Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd Thane Krios
“There is no pain you are receding A distant ship smoke on the horizon”
This song works both on a Literal level with his Kepral’s syndrome struggles, but also Metaphorical re: his Battle Sleep. Plus, Thane is a dad, so he gets Dad Rock.
35. My Medea - Vienna Teng Samara
“For I have made her prison be Her every step away from me And this child I would destroy If you tried to set her free “
Mom of the year award, here
36. Toxic - Britney Spears Morinth
“There's no escape, I can't wait I need a hit, baby, give me it You're dangerous, I'm loving it”
If Morinth weren’t so under-utilized after recruitment and didn’t get killed off in the background of ME3 I’d probably actually recruit her sometimes. I almost did on my most recent playthru bc that Shepard just HATES SPACE COPS. Anyway the song explains itself
37. Turn me On - David Guetta feat. Nicki Minaj EDI/The Collector Attack
“My body needs a hero Come and save me Something tells me you know how to save me”
I know this song is a metaphor but also it works really well both literally and metaphorically for Joker saving EDI
38. Robots - Dan Mangan Legion
“Robots need love too They want to be loved by you “
The Geth just want to live peacefullyyyyyy
39. Be Still - The Killers Love Interest Theme
“Be still / someday you’ll leave fearlessness on your sleeve”
This song works so well for the night before Omega-4. If you had an ME2 love interest, anyway. Also “fearlessness on your sleeve” is one of my favorite set of words ever written.
40. No Cars Go - Arcade Fire The Omega-4 Relay
“We know a place no spaceships go We know a place where no subs go “
This one’s pretty literal.
41. Rocketman - Elton John Suicide Mission
“ And I think it's gonna be a long, long time 'Til touchdown brings me 'round again to find I'm not the man they think I am at home “
I like sneaking some Classics onto my playlists, and I think this is how I generally approach Shepard’s mindset during the Suicide Mission, mostly the chorus. I’m also a sucker for ballads during action sequences. This one isn’t a perfect 1:1 but the Vibes check out.
42. Blast Off - David Guetta feat. Kaz James The Normandy Crew
“Got all my people with me And none of us give a fuck So put dem hands up higher Let's smash this party up”
You have to imagine they partied HARD after recovering from Suicide Mission, but before Shep got arrested, right??? This is the Starships for ME2.
INTERLUDE THE SECOND
43. I’m Not Your Hero - Tegan and Sara Liara T’soni
“ Feeling like I am now lighting up the hall I was used to standing in the shadow of a damaged heart Learning all I know now, losing all I did I never used to feel like I'd be standing so far ahead “
This feels like a good coming of age moment for Liara, as she copes with the choices she made in the 2 years of Shepard’s death (giving them to Cerberus), losing Feron, etc. This is her coming into her own as the Shadow Broker. She’s not meant to be an uncomplicated Big Damn Hero, but she can do good from this position.
44. The Well and the Lighthouse - Arcade Fire The Alpha Relay Incident
“I'm serving time All for a crime I did commit You want the truth? You know I'd do it all again“
These opening lines I feel capture the Alpha Relay Incident really well, and how Shepard did what they HAD to do there, and would do it again, but it still feels like shit. I always wished there was more choice on that mission, but also, having something like that happen without player agency is interesting. Shepard is at their most interesting, I think, in times where we DON’T have a say in what happens to them.
45. Reignite - Malukah Commander Shepard
“Crush my heart into embers, and I will reignite”
Is it cheating to use a Mass Effect fan song on my playlist? I certainly don’t think so, and this is the best Mass Effect fan song ever written.
THIRD MOVEMENT - MASS EFFECT 3
46. This Is War - Thirty Seconds to Mars Leaving Earth
“It's the moment of truth, and the moment to lie The moment to live and the moment to die The moment to fight, the moment to fight To fight, to fight, to fight “
It feels Too Easy to use this here but I’m gonna anyway. You’ve seen AMVs of this set to everything. It’s the ending song of DA:O. It’s the quintessential World At War song.
47. Battleborn - The Killers James Vega
“Up against the wall There's something dying on the street When they knock you down You're gonna get back on your feet”
James Vega is massively underrated and I will love him til I’m cold in the ground. Aro icon.
48. Handlebars - Flobots The Illusive Man
“I can hand out a million vaccinations Or let 'em all die of exasperation Have 'em all healed of their lacerations Have 'em all killed by assassination”
The way this song escalates fits TIM and Cerberus’s fall back into being Just Full On Evil really well. Perfect song for a power trip.
49. Here I Dreamt I Was An Architect - The Decemberists The Virmire Survivor
“And I am nothing of a builder But here I dreamt I was an architect And I built this balustrade To keep you home, to keep you safe From the outside world”
I like this song for how the Virmire Survivor feels about their survivor’s guilt and also about Shepard. I honestly wish they were both more heavily utilized in ME2 and 3, but I realize it’s hard to write a ton of content for characters who just aren’t in half of all peoples’ playthrus.
50. Heaven Knows - The Pretty Reckless Grisson Academy
“One, two, three and four, the devil's knocking at your door Caught in the eye of a dead man's lie Show your life with your head held high“
This song is so perfect for Jack and her biotic kids that she’s one of the only returning characters that gets her own song on this playlist
51. The Great Fire - OK Go Javik
“But when the flames die down, and everything is gone, Will there be fire under the ashes still?”
Self explanatory. Javik is the fire remaining under the ashes.
52. Bring the Hammer Down - Paragon Priority: Tuchanka/Kalros
“ Hammer strikes the anvil A rage that breaks the chain Strikes down like a lightening In our ranks “
KALROOOOOS
53. Wake Up - Arcade Fire Curing The Genophage/Mordin Solus
“If the children don't grow up, Our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up. We're just a million little gods causin' rain storms, turnin' every good thing to Rust I guess we'll just have to adjust”
I just really love this song as an image of Mordin’s spirit looking out over Tuchanka as the genophage cure is dispersed, and watching over future generations. If you didn’t cure the genophage, how dare you. No song for you.
Anyway started tearing up listening to this one while writing the description don’t look at me
54. Ballad of a Politician - Regina Spektor Councillor Udina/Priority Citadel 2
“A man inside a room is shaking hands with other men This is how it happens/Our carefully laid plans”
traitor
55. Cyborgs vs. Robots - Ludo The Geth-Quarian War
“But your iron fist will never knock me down 'Cause I'm powered By a conscious right to conduct my life without fear.”
This is probably a bit silly for this awful war. But also. It does fit. You can’t tell me it doesn’t. Just save them both at the end and you can feel fine having some fun with it!
56. Artificial Heart - Jonathan Coulton The Geth
“It's not a real heart It is a real artificial heart”
Just a little fun with the Geth! This works best with Reaper Upgrades.
57. With A Little Help From My Friends - Joe Anderson, Jim Sturgess The Citadel DLC
“What do you see when you turn out the light? I can't tell you, but I know it's mine
Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends”
I happen to prefer this version to any other because of how much fun it sounds like they’re having
58. Dark In Here - The Mountain Goats Priority: Earth
“Steal away at sundown, pick a place to hide Check for signs of ambush, hunker down inside Tired of running, tired of never standing still Hear them riding up the hill“
You know I had to get the Goats in here. Would it be a fan playlist if there wasn’t one?
59. Adieu - Yoko Kanno Leaving your Love Interest/Shepard and the Beam
“My love for you burns deep inside me / So strong Embers of times we had And now, here I stand / Lost in a memory I see your face, and smile”
...do I need to say more than that?
60. My Way (Minor Key) - Chase Holfelder The Indoctrination of The Illusive Man
“Regrets, I've had a few/But then again, too few to mention I did what I had to do/I saw it through, without exemption“
This cover takes this song from something I tolerate when I hear it to one of my FAVORITE songs. The frenzied way he sings the “through it all” verse is PEAK Indoctrinated TIM.
61. I’m Alive - Disturbed Refusal
“There will never be a reason why I will surrender to your advice To change myself, I'd rather die/Though they will not understand”
Honestly I didn’t “get” the Refusal ending until I heard this song, then I was like, OH, I SEE IT ALL SO CLEARLY NOW. This is my favorite in-universe Shepard take on the Refusal ending. I always got it from the player’s perspective of being dissatisfied with the options, but this one puts it into the world for me. This is a Shepard who does not trust the Starchild. This is a Shepard that chooses to end things on their own terms rather than submit to their designs.
62. Machine - Regina Spektor Control
“I collect my moments Into a correspondence With a mightier power Who just lacks my perspective And who lacks my organics And who covets my defects “
I used to have Adieu here, actually, because like Refusal, I didn’t used to GET the Control ending. Now, I do, in part thanks to hearing this song. I mean, just go look at the full lyrics. If this song hadn’t been written years before the end of Mass Effect 3, I’d swear it was a fan song for it.
63. Maybe Tomorrow - Yuki Kajiura Destroy
“The moon is gone And the night is still so dark I'm a little bit afraid of tomorrow“
I’m a Destroy Ending person, I won’t lie. Full on “the starchild is a liar and my synthetic friends are FINE” indoctrination theory level destroy ending. But this song is not about that. It’s about the canonical destroy ending, and if you prefer a Shep that survives it, this song’s for you.
This song captures the exhaustion and melancholy of the end of a long journey so well. Shepard is afraid of what comes next, the collateral damage resulting from their actions. But they know that, at least, it’s over now. Maybe tomorrow will be better.
64. Waiting For the End - Linkin Park Synthesis
“ I know what it takes to move on I know how it feels to lie All I wanna do is trade this life for something new Holding on to what I haven't got”
This is one of my favorite songs of all time. The hardest part of ending is starting again. Oof. Gets me every single time. Shepard finding the resolve to sacrifice themself for the hope of something better, of things not going how they planned, ever, of learning to make peace with that and the people who loved them learning to carry on without them? OOF.
65. Shine - Vienna Teng Epilogue
“Shine with all the untold Hold the light given unto you Find the love to unfold In this broken world we choose“
Vienna Teng is a master of capturing life’s softer emotions, and this fits perfectly with the epilogue scene for me. Tell me again about the Shepard.
“Find the love to unfold in this broken world we choose” has to be one of the greatest lines about the human experience ever written.
#mass effect#mass effect legendary edition#no one's gonna listen to this#but i need the world to know it exists#it took me as long as the playlist is to put this together
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More Danganronpa Headcanons!
Why? Because I can! And I have to wait for a Commissioner to get back to me about a WIP I just sent!
I Think I’m gunna try my hands at making some Headcanons for Mondo, Ishimaru, Leon, Kazuichi, and Kiibo this time a round! Just cause I wanna try and explore new characters. (And totally not because I fell hard for a certain Robo Boi! WHAAAAAAAT! YOU CRAZY GURL!) I’m still loyal to my man Yasuhiro! But I gotta spred the love! Cause these boi’s need it! Also, wanna mention that these are more like...Non-Killing Game AU Headcanaons. So yeah! ^^
Let’s do this!
Mondo:
Is a Semi decent carpenter, but there was that one time he fucked up the legs on a chair, and now one of Asahina’s shorts has a rip in it where there was a stray nail sticking out.
She wont let him live that down. And neither will Sakura.
Get’s pretty embarrassed/pissed off if someone touches his neck! The dude’s jacket practically covers that entire part of his body, so he’s not used to feeling anything touch him there!
He once let out a girlish scream when Leon poked him there once to wake him up during class! The rest of them are surprised Leon wasn’t killed right then and there.
Once he participated in a little competition between the classes to see who was the arm wrestling champ. He got pretty far till he had to go up against Gonta. He lost by a landslide, but he felt better loosing to a dude like him at least.
Totally escorts any female classmate or student home on his bike if they ask, or he sees some creep hanging around them.
He does get embarrassed about it though, and ends up yelling at them. This results in one of three things.
The girl runs away!
The girl just politely declines, and walks away kinda creeped out!
Or a mix of all, with the addition of the dude sees this, and get’s spooked himself, and fucks off
Ishimaru:
Has a bit of a panic attack and dies inside if he sees someone leaving the men’s restroom without washing their hands!
Carries scented hand sanitizers with him! At all times! No matter what! And must offer some to every single one of his classmates!
Once he tripped in the halls while chasing after another rule breaker, and had to be carried to the nurse’s office. Now that alone wouldn’t have been a bad thing, except Sakura was the one who did it, and she carried him bridle style, much to his dismay.
Mondo and Leon teased him about that one for months.
During Christmas, he’ll start screeching about PDA anytime he sees a Mistletoe, or people under it who are about to kiss!
But will ultimately be the first one forced to stand underneath it by is classmates.
Stays behind after school hours to either clean, or poke his head into every class room to see if the teachers need help with anything.
He’s totally that guy who during the Gym Class or Sports festival, is bitching about how short the girls shorts are, but not realize he’s staring. There by making HIM the creep!
Leon of all people was the one to point this out to him, only adding to the shame.
Leon:
It’s not hard for him to start catching feelings for basically any girl meets.
Totally has an Instagram where he posts shirtless pics! He’s pretty popular thanks to that, and his Baseball Skills.
Purposely taught himself English so he could flirt with some of the American and British chicks who visit his profile and leave comments.
He’s pretty used to going from girl to girl, so it’s safe to assume he’s used to getting dunked on by the girls he’s dumped. Getting called a pig, dirty looks, even some of them going so far as to pour their drinks on them at lunch. This he can handle!
Wanted so badly to start a band with Sayaka, Ibuki, Kaede, and Kazuichi! (Probably due to the punk look Soda always puts on!) But he was promptly let down by all of them! Cause Ibuki had her own shit to deal with, Kazuichi because he had no experience with music (at least any good ones, Stay tuned for that! ;3), Sayaka cause she’s already part of a group, and Kaede because punk wasn’t exactly her thing.
But what really stresses him out is when one of his Exes just.....doesn’t really seem to care! It feels so outta place to him, and it actually makes him pretty paranoid. Wondering if their plotting for revenge or some shit! So he’ll spend days after breaking up with a girl like this, just kinda....being a little bitch! XD
Secretly, I’m pretty sure they all turned him down because they thought he was coming on to them to a degree.
Kazuichi:
Is a lot like Yasuhiro, he doesn’t like birds, but not because he thinks they work for the government. It’s because he doesn’t like most animals, they remind him of Gundham.
Miu makes him HIGHLY uncomfortable! Sure, she’s hot and stuff, but she’s a whole other level of fuckery that he wants no part of! She’s banned from entering his workshop, and so Kiibo is usually the one who comes in to grab something if Miu needs it. He completely get’s Kazuichi feeling put off by Miu.
However, Kazuichi is still pretty insistent on asking Kiibo if he can take him apart every time he comes to get something for Miu. Making the poor robot very uncomfortable!
He’s pretty jealous that Miu get’s to play with the Robot and he doesn’t. Get’s kinda salty about it.
Teruteru once gave him the idea that he should try to serenade Sonia. And so he did! Or at least he tried to. He got over the fence to the girls dorms, ripping his clothes in the prosses. Then when he got to the window (he thought was) of Sonia’s room, he threw a rock that was a bit too big at it, cracking the window and scaring the girl in the room! Waking up the whole dorms and he booked it out of there!
He attempted this one more time, and was better prepared. But Sonia opened her window to see a Kazuichi dressed in a Ghillie Suit and wearing an army helmet holding a guitar! When he started to sing and play, it was now obvious why Ibuki refuses to let him sing along with any of her music!
A girl from a neighboring room called the campus security to repot a strange dude outside the Girls dorms, while another one poked her head out of her window and began to throw things at him.
He left soon after, but was caught by security and reprimanded. Now he refuses to listen to Teruteru has to say about anything.
Kiibo:
Often get’s bossed around by Mui to get her things. He finds it rather degrading, but when she’s not being bossy, she’s helpful to him. So he puts up with it, as a way of saying thanks.
One of these tasks he’s asked to do a lot is going over to Kazuichi’s Workshop to barrow tools and such. He hates doing it though, since Kazuichi is always wanting to take him apart. So he does his best to make these visits quick!
Miu gave him the ability to remove some of his heavy armor so he can wear clothing like normal. Surprisingly, This was his idea! He wanted to be able to enjoy the comforts of soft fabrics like most humans. And it would help him blend in a bit better.
Gonta and him get along very well! Mainly due to both of them having a hard time understanding things like sarcasm, harsher jokes, and certain social cues. This usually leads to them both learning at the same time when they hang out!
Miu is his wingman, weather he knows it or not! She’s always wanting to add new functions to him to make him more appealing. One of these is a thin velvet like coating on his armor that’s meant to make his metal less harsh on the skin if you touch him.
Another one of these features is a type of diffuser at the top of his skull under his hair! It releases a pleasant scent into his hair, similar to pheromones. The scent changes based on Kiibo’s emotions.
Kokichi likes to openly mock Kiibo in front of new people. Like a lot!
Kiibo actually releases steam when he get’s too Angry or Embarrassed, but this is really rare.
Get’s really curious about Occult, Paranormal, or Religious things. Sure, he finds some of it to be very silly, but he can’t help but wonder why some humans like those things!
Some holiday traditions he finds weird too, and in some cases, a bit Robophobic. Like giving candy or sweets out on Valentines Day, when....well, he can’t fucking eat it! So he feels excluded in times like that.
He’s really confused about most PDA! Especially kissing! So humans just like...put their mouths together? And that’s like....supposed to mean deep affection? What’s so great about swapping fluids like that? Couldn’t they get sick? QUESTIONS! ANSWERS! HE MUST HAVE THEM!
His Ahoge doesn’t just change shape and move to show emotion, but it also tends to point in the direction that he’s attention is drawn too. Even when he’s trying to pretend he’s not looking at something! His hair is a dead give away!
Has a built in “Cellphone” in his head. Miu added it so it would be easier to contact him if needed.
Everyone in his class has his number, except Kokichi! And it will stay that way!
.......Until Gonta gave it to him by being tricked into doing it!
And now he has a small panic attack every time his “Cellphone” rings. Praying to all that is good that he doesn’t hear “HEY KIIBOOOOOOOY!~<3″ on the other end!
#headcanon#danaganronpav3#Danaganronpa Kiibo#danaganronpa#danaganronpa2#Danaganronpa None-Killing Game AU#danaganronpa leon#danaganronpa mondo#danaganronpa ishimaru#danaganronpa kazuichi#kiyotaka ishimaru#leon kuwata#mondo oowada#kazuichi souda#Kiibo#keebo#K1-B0
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Migraines
Relationships: Dylan O’Brien x OFC
Warnings: Mentions of chronic illness (?)
Word Count : 5,010
Author’s Note: Hey y’all this is something kind of small and kind of cute I cranked out. I deal with chronic migraines and honestly 100% self indulged with this but it has tons of soft Dylan in it!! I kind of hoped to shine some light on what it’s like dealing with chronic migraines with it, mainly because that’s why I’ve been MIA the past week. It’s pretty hard to write when you can only see out of one eye lol.
“Sometimes I just really wonder why I subject myself to this,” Lillian mumbled while she laid down on the ground in the middle of the Beacon Hills Memorial hospital set that they happened to be filming in on that day. “Or at least I mean, why I decide to just let my headaches go when I wake up some mornings,” she cracked an eye open to see Dylan standing above her.
He held a hand out to her and she took it, pushing herself off the ground and closing her eyes once she stood flat so she hopefully wouldn’t notice the room spinning. “I would ask if you wanted anything but I know the answer already,” Lillian fell into step next to him while they got to where they needed to be for the next scene. “If you want to take a break I'm sure you could ask and-”
“I’m fine,” Lillian shook her head and closed her right eye that she currently couldn’t really see out of. She saw Dylan give her a knowing look and shook her head, “I’m seriously fine Dyl. I’m just going to grab some painkillers and coffee on lunch and I’ll be fine for the rest of the day after that.” She quickly pulled away from Dylan and walked over to where Holland and Crystal stood getting ready to film themselves.
Dylan stood off to the side of the set with Tyler Posey, watching the girls film a scene together. Lillian laid in the hospital bed with her eyes closed, the prop heart monitor beeping steadily behind them while their director spoke. “Something is up with Lilly today,” Tyler mumbled while watching the way her forehead was wrinkled in discomfort when her eyes opened.
“She has a migraine,” Dylan mumbled watching the girls again when quiet got called on the set. He saw Lillian close her eyes again while she waited for Holland and Crystal to finish their lines for the scene, everyone on set knowing they were going to lunch once their director felt happy with how the scene came out. “And I told her they would call the day early if she said something but she refuses to believe it,” he rolled his eyes.
Tyler crossed his arms over his chest and nodded, “maybe she just needs lunch to unwind, clear her head,” he watched how Dylan looked on to set with concern. Tyler knew his friend cared deeply about their new cast member, from the dad Lillian had stepped onto the set Dylan and her had clicked. Lillian had grown up in New York, allowing her and Dylan to quickly fall into conversation about their shared interest in some of the state’s sports teams. She had seen Dylan wearing his Mets cap the first time they met and offered him a smirk mumbling something about, “imagine being a Yankees fan,” before introducing herself to the rest of the cast.
“I might just stick back here,” Dylan leaned closer to Tyler to speak so he wouldn’t interrupt filming at all, “just to make sure she’s fine,” he ran a hand through his messy hair. Tyler looked up to his friend and just nodded, not wanting to push the issue of where Dylan’s feelings for their friend currently were at the moment.
When Lillian had moved to Los Angeles, fresh out of college, to join the cast of Teen Wolf for its third season, it quickly became clear that she wasn’t completely comfortable in the new environment. Her audition for the show had been a ‘joke’ of sorts originally and even getting a call back for the part had surprised her.
Lillian had planned on sticking back on her college’s campus for their fall break to attend a tournament for the college’s Ultimate Frisbee team she had played on. Due to weather concerns the tournament had gotten cancelled and with her parents also planning on going on vacation that week, there had been no point in her returning home. A few of her friends who happened to be acting and theater majors, had planned on taking a trip out to LA that weekend for shits and giggles, to see if they could audition for a couple jobs after they graduated college, just to see if they had any shot at getting the parts.
They had convinced Lillian to walk into an audition with zero acting experience to raise their chances, even if would just raise them a minimal amount, it was still something. Upon walking into the audition, Lillian learned that she would be auditioning for a high school student who wanted to be any place other than high school. Something she related to on a personal level. She must have played the part pretty well because a week later on her way to practice she got the call that the producers wanted her to fly out to LA for the final round of auditions.
After lengthy discussions with her advisors and parents the days following the call, she knew that she would be graduating a year early, and would have plenty of time to get out to LA before filming started. Armed with that knowledge and the fact that she would have to drop her dreams of attending law school if she did get the part, Lillian flew out to LA for the final audition for a role on the MTV series Teen Wolf.
Two weeks after graduating from a tiny, central Pennsylvania University with a degree in Economics and Legal Studies, Lillian found herself moving out to Los Angeles to start a career as an actress. She had been able to rent a small house outside of Los Angeles with the help of her parents and moved herself and her dog out there in record timing. Her first day on set she had shown up in a pair of ripped jeans and a long sleeve from her college and felt grossly underdressed and unattractive when she had been introduced to the rest of the cast at the table read.
“You must be Lillian,” A red headed young woman walked up to Lilly with a warm smile and offered her a hug. “I’m Holland.”
“You can just call my Lilly,” she offered a warm smile in return, tucking her keys into her jeans pocket and holding the binder with her first script in it tightly to her chest.
Holland nodded and started to lead Lillian into a building, “Jeff told us not to overwhelm you, and we really didn’t trust any of the boys not to do that,” she laughed lightly turning down a long hallway. “We really are one big family though, I’d say this is the best way to ease into your first job.”
“I honestly never expected to wind up here,” Lillian laughed while she and Holland reached a door labeled ‘Teen Wolf’ within the studio. “I’m fresh out of college on an Economics and Pre-Law degree, before I auditioned I’d say acting was the last thing on my mind when it came to a career,” she shrugged.
Holland looked into the small glass window of the room before speaking, “you’d get along great with Dylan then,” she stated, “Teen Wolf was his first job too! If you’re comfortable enough everyone else is in here, and the boys are quite eager to meet you if I’m honest. They love seeing new people on set.”
“Sounds good to me,” Lilly shrugged while Holland pushed the door open, the room opening up to a bunch of tables in a large rectangle, the remainder of the cast, the show’s writer and some producers sitting around the table also. All the heads in the room turned to face them and Lilly watched as some of the members of the cast pushed their way out of their seats to introduce themselves.
“I’m Crystal,” one of the other girls introduced themselves first out of the group. “That’s Tyler and Tyler,” she pointed to two of the younger guys who were standing up. “Daniel, Gage, and Dylan,” she introduced everyone who was standing. “I’m sure the adults are able to introduce themselves,” she laughed. Lillian saw the adults all talking amongst themselves, most likely not wanting to overwhelm her more than she already was.
“And you know me already,” Jeff Davis, the writer for the show, stood up to shake Lillian’s hand. “I’m sure you’ll be a more than amazing addition to the show.” He returned to his seat and started talking with the other adults, giving the younger actors time to properly introduce themselves.
“Jeff said you were from New York,” one of the Tyler’s spoke up. “That’s pretty cool,”
“Not like the city,” Lillian laughed, “the island though yeah, I lived there until I went to college,” she offered the information. “And at least he’s not a Yankees fan,” she nodded towards the hat that Dylan was wearing. “How’re you a Mets fan?”
Dylan smiled and stepped more into the group, “I lived in Jersey a good chunk of my childhood,” he laughed. “You know how Mets fans raise their kids,” he just shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest.
From that first day on set onwards, Dylan had taken Lillian under his wing and showed her the ropes of being an actress. With Teen Wolf also having been his first acting job, he found a sort of kinship with Lillian that allowed the two to feel comfortable around each other. They shared experiences the others didn't really have in common with them. They had grown close together through filming, and with Lillian’s character taking a liking to Stiles they were both glad they had natural chemistry. On set they were never really far from each other, and some of their castmates had placed bets on when the pair would finally realize the feelings they had for each other.
“What does she think, Jeff’s going to kick her off the show if she takes a break?” Tyler asked Dylan while they watched Lillian rub at her temples between takes. “Because she really isn’t looking fantastic right now at all.”
Dylan let out a long sigh and shrugged, “I’m really not sure, man. You know how hard she is on herself though, so she won’t even tell you how bad it really is.” Once the director called for lunch break, Lillian sat up slowly in the hospital bed, swinging her legs over the end and pulling on her hair at the roots. She said something to Holland and Crystal who gave her sad smiles before nodding and walking over to Tyler and Dylan.
“What’s Lilly not coming to lunch?” Tyler asked the two girls, glancing at Dylan out of the corner of his eye.
Crystal shook her head, “she said she wants to just run through lines for the rest of the day. She said she had food in her trailer, plus she brought Bear with her today,” Crystal pointed out that Lillian had brought her corgi to set for the day and both of the boys turned to look at each other. “Oh you two see Bear plenty, give her a little space during lunch.”
Dylan watched Lillian talk to a few of the producers that were on the set that day, nodding along to what they were saying while she chewed on her bottom lip. Jeff walked over and said something that made her smile, giving a shallow nod to the writer before she walked off in the direction of her trailer, shuffling her feet while she went. “I’m going to stay behind too,” Dylan mumbled, taking off the flannel he had been wearing for Stiles’ outfit that day.
Holland turned to give Tyler a knowing look and he just shrugged, not sure what to tell her. “Dylan, you know how she needs her space sometimes,” Holland pointed out.
“It’s fine, I’m just going to check on her,” he waved the others off while he also started in the direction of the trailers.
Opening her trailer door, Lillian peeled off the clothes she had been wearing on set and dropped them on to the table in the trailer. She grabbed the hoodie she had worn on to set that day, one Dylan had left at her house the week before and a pair of Nike shorts. She bent down to pet Bear who laid half awake on the couch in the room, his stuffed hedgehog under his chin. With a yawn Bear pushed himself up on to his short legs and stretched, going to sniff at his food bowl.
“Oh you’re starving,” Lillian laughed, opening the door to the cabinet where she kept his food, her head pounding while she leaned down. “Here ya go,” she filled his food bowl up and cracked open a fresh water bottle to fill up his bowl before plugging in her coffee maker and starting a fresh pot brewing. She had learned early on in her migraine endeavors that, unlike most people, caffeine fixed her headaches rather than giving her one.
Grabbing a blanket she had folded on the table she quickly unfolded it and sat down on the couch, draping it over herself and closing her eyes, trying to ignore the pounding in her head. She wished that her coffee would brew faster so she could gain back some of her will to continue filming for the rest of the day after lunch. She knew that her and the rest of the cast had planned to go out to lunch that afternoon but couldn't bring herself to go sit in a loud restaurant for two hours with how quickly her migraine had taken its grip. Letting out a long sigh she felt Bear jump up in her lap and rested a hand on his back, running her fingers through his fur.
Lillian had gotten Bear her senior year of high school, he’s a trained migraine alert dog and accurately alerted her to most of her oncoming migraines for the entire time she had him. He had alerted her of her current one the day before, but she had hoped it would have held off until after work that day. With her head tilted back and eyes closed Lillian continued to run her fingers through the dog’s fur, his chest rising and falling steadily under her hand.
A few minutes later, while the coffee started to sputter out the last bits of coffee, a quiet knock rapped on her door and bear let out a sleep growl. Lillian just laughed lightly before saying ‘come in’ as loud as she could. Her head pounding when she did so, a quiet groan falling from her lips. The door opened and Lillian saw Dylan standing on the other side. He was dressed in a pair of sweats and a black tee shirt, his hair messy on his head and his phone in hand.
“He do his job like he’s supposed to?” Dylan asked Lillian motioning towards Bear who had decided to go back to sleep on Lillian’s lap.
She nodded, “he did,” she knew Dylan wouldn’t be happy with her, now knowing the fact that she had an oncoming migraine she had told no one about until it hit. “I knew too,” she just shrugged while Dylan closed her trailer door behind him. She heard the coffee machine beep, signaling it had finished brewing and Lillian let out a quiet ‘yes’, going to move Bear so she could make a cup.
“I got it,” Dylan told her, walking over to the fridge and pulling out the milk and vanilla creamer she had in it. “Do you care if I take a cup?” He turned to face Lillian while he pulled down the sugar from where she kept it.
Lillian shook her head slightly, “be my guest,” she told him. Dylan busied himself making the mugs of coffee, sliding Lilly’s carefully to her before making his own.
“That’s the sweatshirt I left at your house last weekend,” he nodded to the hoodie she had on, “looks good on you,” he gave a small smile, sitting down on the end of the couch. Lillian shrugged in response, holding her mug between both hands and taking a sip of the warm liquid.
She set the mug down again before speaking, “you left it, and it’s comfy. I’ll give it back later.” she closed her eyes while Bear got off her lap, moving to lay on his bed that currently had rays of sun pouring over it.
“I wasn’t missing it all that much,” Dylan shrugged, taking a sip of his own drink. He turned to face Lillian, a serious look on his face. “Why don’t you ever say anything, especially when Jeff tells you to let him know?” He asked quietly.
Lillian just let out a long sigh, opting to focus on her coffee mug instead of answering right away. “Can we talk about it when I can see out of both of my eyes again and can remember more than just my name and where I am?” she let out a small laugh. “I honestly was just planning on taking a nap after I downed a few mugs of coffee,” she added.
Dylan watched as she started to rub her temples, her eyes closing while she did so. “I can go if you want,” he pointed towards her door.
“No it’s fine, you’re here now and I'm awake we can just watch a movie or something if you want to,” she spoke softly, not opening her eyes at all in the process.
“Lilly-”
“Dylan just, stop worrying,” she let out a long sigh. “Pick a movie and we can just hang out, you really shouldn’t have hung back,” she left the, ‘but I’m glad you did’, out. Lillian had a small crush on her castmate since the first day she had stepped on to set. His sense of humor and off the walls energy just appealed to her. Not to mention he always seemed incredibly sweet and cared about those around him in a way not many people could. The pair had bonded over their shared interest in many of the same sports team and one of them would usually host dinner and some friends on nights of games.
He had also been the one to pick up on her migraine triggers first. He tried to avoid ordering food with too much garlic if he would be hosting the games, and he also knew if he planned on getting Chinese he could only order from a couple of places in the LA area. He knew that days on set where there would be flashing or bright lights and a lot of loud noise would also trigger her migraines sometimes.
Off set, Dylan had learned to pay careful attention to Bear and could often notice when the dog was signaling to Lillian that she would have an oncoming migraine within the next day. “We don’t have to watch a movie,” Dylan shrugged and set his now empty mug next to Lillian’s. “You know I share your love for naps,” He laughed lightly kicking his shoes off and stretching out across her couch. “Give me a pillow and if you come lay up here I can rub your head,” he offered.
Lillian pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, thinking the offer over. She knew that it would help her, and Dylan had done it before for her, but she didn’t want to get too cozy with him. Especially with her feelings growing stronger and stronger in the past weeks. “You don’t mind?” she asked quietly.
“No I don’t mind,” Dylan shook his head with a small smile. Now give me a pillow and come share your blanket!” Lillian reached underneath her couch to grab one of the pillows she kept in her trailer and handed it to Dylan who adjusted it on the arm of the couch so he could comfortably lay on it. He sunk further into the couch, hanging his legs over the end, before opening his arms so Lilly could tuck into his side.
Carefully shuffling around on the small couch, Lillian laid her head on Dylan’s chest and tucked in as close to him as possible so she could make sure she wouldn’t fall off the end. Pulling her blanket around both of them, Dylan wrapped his free arm around her back and the other started to gently rub at her left temple. “I don’t know how you balance everything,” he mumbled quietly, watching Lilly’s eyes close.
“I’ve been doing it since like middle school,” she replied, yawning at the end. “You get used to it, trust me.”
Dylan moved his hand so it carded through her hair a few times before rubbing where the back of her skull met her neck, “but still,” he sighed. “I just feel bad is all,” he wasn’t quite sure what to say.
“Well you’re helping right now, so don’t feel bad,” Lillian snuggled more into his side. Her right hand resting on his chest. “Seriously this is more than I can ask for. At home I’ll sleep on a heating pad to try and help a little bit. Having an actual person is more than enough,” he words started to bleed together while she started to drift off.
Dylan let out a small laugh, his chest vibrating against Lillian’s hand and cheek when he did so. He let his own eyes close while he moved his hand again, his thumb gently rubbing up and down the bridge of Lilly’s nose. He remembered her mentioning it the first time he had found them in this position. She had said her mom would do it when she had been younger and couldn’t sleep at night from her migraines.
Opening his eyes when he felt Lilly’s breathing even out completely, he noticed her facial features had relaxed significantly, her brow no longer stuck in a tight crease. Her lips weren’t turned into a frown anymore and her nose no longer scrunched up in discomfort. He continued to rub her temples and up and down the bridge of her nose until Bear decided to use the steps to get up on the sofa to crawl into his lap and go back to sleep himself.
“God,” Dylan breathed out slowly, letting his hand come to rest on Lillian’s hip once he knew she was actually asleep. “I am fucked,” he closed his eyes and decided to make use of the break to catch up on sleep himself.
✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧
“Where are Dylan and Lillian?” Jeff approached the group of young actors when they had returned to set from their lunch break. “I’ve been texting and calling both of them and they haven't answered.” He looked around the group for an answer.
“Uhh-” Tyler Posey trailed off. “I know Dylan stayed behind to check on Lilly earlier, he said she had a migraine starting earlier and didn’t really want to tell anyone.” Jeff looked around the group, waiting to see if anyone else had an answer for him as to where the two could be.
Holland grabbed Tyler’s arm and nodded to him, “we’ll go see if we can find them,” she told Jeff with a small smile. The pair started in the direction of the cast’s trailers and Holland let out a long sigh. “This is why she's supposed to mention these things, no one wants her hurt or sick.” She spoke with genuine concern for her friend.
“She told Dylan,” Tyler shrugged while they walked up the lines of trailers until they saw Lilly’s. “I mean, it’s something,” he added.
Holland just nodded and looked at Tyler. “Yeah, she likes him and he likes her, they’re happily oblivious to it though.” Holland approached Lilly’s trailer and looked in the window. She turned around to face Tyler with a smirk and nodded towards the window.
Tyler approached the window and pushed himself up on his toes so he could see in. He noticed the pair curled up on Lilly’s couch together, asleep, and Lilly’s dog curled up on Dylan’s lap. “I bet they're both still pinning though,” He laughed quietly. “Should we see if the door’s open?” He asked Holland.
“Probably,” she walked up the stairs to the trailer and pushed on the door that swung open. Bear lifted his head to watch the pair, but didn’t make any noise. He knew the two and also knew they would often supply him with treats if he behaved. She watched Tyler take out his phone and take a picture of them before tucking it back into his pocket.
“For safekeeping,” he laughed while Holland approached the pair. She reached out and shook Dylan’s left shoulder, trying to carefully wake him up. He let out a quiet groan and opened his eyes, blinking sleepily at the room around him. When his eyes came into focus he noticed Holland and Tyler standing in the middle of the trailer, knowing smirks on their faces.
Dylan cleared his throat before speaking, “she had a headache, I just offered to help,” his voice slightly scratchy from sleep.
“And you are both absolutely oblivious to the mutual feelings between each other apparently,” Holland rolled her eyes. “You’re both supposed to be on set, but I’m sure Jeff wouldn’t mind wrapping early if he understood her situation.” Dylan looked down to where Lilly still laid passed out on his chest.
Dylan sighed, “might be best for the day, I know earlier she wasn’t really able to see out of her one eye. Probably not the safest thing on set.” He watched Lilly turn her face further into his chest and started rubbing her temple again.
“Yeah, man,” Tyler gave him a small smile. “We’ll go talk to Jeff and you see how she’s feeling.” He turned to leave the trailer, Holland hanging around a few seconds longer.
“Trust me Dyl,” she let out a quiet sigh, “just tell her, I know you won’t be disappointed,” and with that she turned to follow Tyler.
Dylan closed his eyes for a second before opening the again, lightly wrapping his hand around Lilly’s shoulder and shaking her. “Lills,” he hummed, “you gotta wake up,” he said. Lilly groaned and he watched her peel her eyes open, blinking at the light filling up the trailer and tucking her face into Dylan’s chest again.
“I know,” he rubber her shoulder, “you still feel shitty, but Holland and Tyler are going to see if Jeff can end the day early-”
“Nope,” Lillian sat up quickly, groaning when she did. Her head still pounded and she wanted to go back to sleep, but she had a job to get done. “I just need to change and-”
“You need to lay back down,” Dylan grabbed her arm and pulled her back into his chest. “I care too much about you to keep letting you do this to yourself,” he added. Lilly just closed her eyes, trying to will her nausea to go away, not wanting to throw up in front of Dylan, of all people. She felt a few tears of pain and frustration slip out of the corners of her eyes and gave up, sinking back into Dylan’s warm embrace.
“This fucking sucks,” she sniffled while Dylan’s thumb started rubbing up and down the bridge of her nose again. “I can’t just not work because I have a headache, everyone gets headaches, I just need a few minutes to get rid of the queasiness,” she mumbled.
Dylan shushed her and used his thumb to wipe away the tears that slipped out of her eyes. “You need to rest more, Lills,” he started rubbing her back with his other hand. “Tyler and Holland are going to come tell me we can leave early and then I’ll drive you and your furry friend here home.” He looked down to Bear who had fallen asleep again.
“I don’t-” Lillian squeezed her eyes shut tighter, “I don’t want to be home alone,” she spoke quietly. “It’ll just last longer and then I won’t sleep and I’ll still have it tomorrow and-”
“I’ll stay,” he cut her off, “as long as it’s okay with you.”
“Dylan you don’t-”
“I want to, Lilly,” he looked down at her, her eyes finally open again. “I care about you,” he took in a shaky breath. “A lot, and I won’t leave you alone like this,” he continued to play with your hair. “I want to help you take care of this,” he leaned in and pressed his lips to her forehead. “So please just, let me take care of you for once.”
“I-” Lillian trailed off, looking up at Dylan who watched her closely. “I don’t want to tie you down with this, you don’t deserve to deal with this,” she shook her head.
Dylan hummed in response and shook his head ‘no’, rubbing her temple again with his pointer and middle fingers. “I like this though,” he smiled lightly, “you’re warm and comfortable, Bear is asleep in my lap,” he shrugged, “I’m quite happy where I am.” He watched Lilly look at him, her face stuck in a state of disbelief.
Just when Lilly went to speak again, Tyler, Crystal and Holland appeared in the trailer door. “Jeff said we can stop for the day, it was all just going to be getting a head start anyway,” Tyler said.
“See,” Dylan looked down at Lilly, “thanks guys!” he addressed the others. They all gave Dylan knowing smiles before telling Lilly to feel better and leaving the pair alone again. “Now, let’s get you two home and order something to eat that won’t bother your head more.”
Lillian sat up slowly, a small smile on her face while she pet Bear who yawned and opened his eyes also. “As long as you promise to snuggle more,” she pouted at Dylan.
“I promise to snuggle more,” he laughed sliding off the couch. “Now let’s go.”
#dylan o'brien#dylan obrien#dylan obrien imagine#teen wolf#stiles stilinski#stiles stilinski imagine#anna writes
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The Colour of Our Voices [11]
Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12
➜ Words: 4.2k
➜ Genres: 98% Fluff, 2% Angst, Slice of Life, Broadway!AU
➜ Summary: He wasn’t supposed to hear. He wasn't supposed to know. But the instant Jimin came into your life and pulled the curtains back, you couldn't hide backstage anymore. You were no longer merely a phantom of the opera.
cr.
The phone rings. It wakes you, deafeningly loud. It shakes you in the middle of your slumber. Usually, you’re the one dialing, but you don’t dwell. With one eye open, you grab your phone off the nightstand. “Hello?” “Hello?” The voice on the other line is unmistakable, and it’s a familiar husky timbre. You rise, leaning against the headboard and it has the covers shifting. “Y/N?” “Taehyung?” Your voice is still thick with sleep, and he notices, chuckling. “Sorry for waking you up.” There’s a pause. “Even though it’s noon.” “S-Sorry. I usually don’t sleep in this late.” “Why is he calling?” Jimin groans painfully. He turns around, the covers pulling along with him and he pouts in annoyance. He opens one eye. “How does he even have your number?” “Shush!” But Taehyung hears and laughs again. “Is that Jimin?” It goes silent. Then you come clean. “Yes.” “Well that’s convenient timing. You should put me on speakerphone.” You wonder what it is that he wants from the both of you, but you follow suit nonetheless, slumping down and holding the phone up in the air. “Hi, Taehyung,” Jimin huffs and drapes an arm over you as if the man on the other line could see. He pulls you closer to his chest, and you muffle your yelp when he grazes against a ticklish spot. Jimin snuggles up to you, resting his forehead on your shoulder. “Morning, Jimin.” You can practically hear the grin in his voice. “I wanted to talk to the two of you and see if you guys are interested in participating in the original production of When Summer Meets Winter.” Your breath hitches. Your heart stops. “...What?” You pull yourself away from Jimin, sitting upright again. He sighs and sits as well, scratching his bedhead. “What did you just say?” You hold the phone closer to your lips, wondering if you heard right. “Were...you guys interested in participating in our original production?” Your brows furrow. You did that audition a week ago — but that was a shit show. Jimin is as confused as you are. “A-As an intern?” “No, as an actress.” Taehyung laughs. “Unless you don’t want to.” “No….no, I’d...love to. What?” “Are you going to make me repeat myself a hundred more times, lady?” Taehyung laughs again. “Now, Jimin, we know you’re still in Les Mis for two more months and you’re performing almost every night, do you think you’d still be able to do this? We still have a long way to go and a lot of things to develop, so you can just come in during the morning and the day whenever possible. Our plan is to have the show hit Broadway in three months anyway.” “No.” The boy beside you sleepily smiles. “I can manage.” “Alright, just let me know if your schedule ever gets too hectic. We can definitely accommodate you.” There’s another pause. “So this is a definite yes from both of you, right?” “Yes!” you both answer in union. Taehyung chuckles. “Alright. I’ll text you of when and where we can meet to go over more details. Enjoy yourselves, you two, and congratulations.” The call hangs up. You turn to Jimin, rendered speechless, hoping that you’re not still dreaming. And when he gives you an enormous grin, you know it’s real. You leap into his arms, tackling him to the mattress and he giggles. “You did it.” “We did it.” Tears prick at your eyes. You don’t know what this means, but you have a role — finally, a Broadway debut. Even if you end up as just a tree in the background, you’re so ecstatic, you could cry. Jimin hears the crack in your voice and pats your back, nuzzling into you. “Congratulations, Y/N. You deserve it.” He plops a kiss at the top of your head. You sit up again instantly, eyes wide. “We have to start practicing!” “Practicing what?” The tired brunette giggles, watching you stumble upwards and nearly trip on the clothes tossed on the floor. “I don’t know! Anything!” Before you leave to the bathroom, you turn around and bark at him, “Are you just going to lay there all day, Park Jimin? I never took you as a slacker!” “Yes ma’am.” He smiles, gets up, and chases you into the shower. In the coming week, your simmering excitement overboils.
You’re confounded that your world could go so wrong and then so right. After the storm, there’s a rainbow, and you only hope it lasts. The last time you entered the studio, you were stumbling down the stairs with your tail in between your legs. Now you get to take the elevator up to the third floor with no rush and no worries of having to balance coffee cups. You’re not holding a broom anymore. You don’t have to be yelled at. You made it. “It’s nice to see you again.” Director Lee shakes your hand and offers a kind smile. You blink, supposing that you might be in heaven. “Y/N?” “I-It’s nice to see you as well.” You clear your throat, snapping back to reality. Jimin stifles back a laugh at how dazed you are. “This will be your first Broadway appearance, right? Well, officially anyway.” “Y-Yes.” “Welcome then.” He smiles and firmly shakes your hand. “We’re just getting settled today and we’ll be discussing what each role will be about, the vision that we have for this production, and the likes. Taehyung didn’t tell you what you would be playing, did he?” “No.” “He didn’t send you the script?” “Um, no, not really.” The director sighs in exhaustion, mumbling something about how ridiculous that kid is. “Well alright, that just makes things more exciting. Feel free to enter first. I have to go grab a coffee.” You nod, and both you and Jimin exchange a look before entering the conference room. Lots of people are already there, mingling and some already seated. There are other actors and actresses, writers, and producers. You look over and someone’s eyes light up. They come running over instantly with a wide grin. “Hey there, you two.” You give Taehyung a warm embrace. “Thank you, thank you…” “Hey, I had nothing to do with this. It was all you.” He smiles and pulls apart from you, giving a nod of acknowledgment to Jimin. “Hey, Chimster.” He waves. “Afternoon. How are you?” “Good. You two must be good too.” He gives a knowing smile and turns. “Anyways, take a seat.” Taehyung gestures to the two main chairs, right beside the producer. You frown, but don’t hesitate for too long. The girl beside you is flipping pages of what should be the script, and as you sit, she looks up. Her long brunette hair cascades off her shoulders, long lashes fluttering. The young lady oozes with confidence. She’s stunning, bright eyed and with a pretty smile. “Hi.” Her irises twinkle, floral dress fitting her form well. “I’m Yoo Yeonjeon. You must be Y/N.” You open your mouth before closing it — she’s so beautiful that you’re entranced. She’s almost on the level of Kim Seokjin. Almost. “Yes, I am.” You shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” But the girl is still somehow familiar. “Have we met somewhere before…?” “I don’t think so,” she hums. Yeonjeon is absolutely breathtaking — lips and cheeks naturally rosy, and you can’t even see her pores when you’re this close to her. “I’m sure I’d remember you.” It must've been your imagination. “I’m Park Jimin,” the boy beside you introduces himself, leaning forward so he can be seen. The female giggles and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She reaches out to gently shake his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. We’ll be working together a lot from now on. So, I hope we can get along.” You don’t know exactly what she means and neither does Jimin, but Yeonjeon quickly reads his confusion. “You’re...the main lead?” “Pardon?” you ask again. “You didn’t know?” she smiles at Jimin. “You play the main male lead and I’m the main female lead.” Yeonjeon turns to you, disposition friendly and warm. “You’re the antagonist.” “The...antagonist?” It’s peculiar. You’re not sure what that entails. You’re both nervous and thankful to hear that you’ve gotten such a big role right off the bat, but it’s certainly not the part you thought you’d get. You skim through the script, finding an intriguing storyline before the meeting begins and your puzzlement begins to clear. “So originally, the story of When Summer Meets Winter was based on an idea of some witch casting a curse of eternal winter on a kingdom and the story would be around all the inhabitants and their ways of survival. Since then, we’ve developed it a lot more.” “This was all in thanks to casting Y/N,” the director says, straightforward. You lift your head, taken aback by the sudden credit given. He smiles at you. “I’m not sure if this is accurate at all, but you come across as a very...timid person. We think we can channel this to our advantage and make a very interesting villain. You can be a very sympathetic character.” “Y-Yeah, that sounds great.” You nod and he does as well. For so long, you’ve stood in the corner of these meetings. Now you have a seat around the table, and you make sure to relish every moment, taking diligent notes and soaking in the atmosphere that you get to be a part of. The director moves on to the next person, making wild gestures towards Jimin and startling him. “We want you to be a very vapid character in the very beginning. A very one dimensional hero. But as the musical progresses, your self-awareness grows, and that sort of puts you into an identity crisis. The more you become self-aware, the more miserable you become. So ultimately the character has to decide if he wants to live in this reality and be unhappy or be in a fantasy world and be blissful.” He continues onto Yeonjeon, explaining that her character encapsulates the stereotypical female lead with a sad background that needs saving from. But she’s the most self-aware character in the musical, and her motivations are of self-preservation. “We really want to go for a tone of a whimsical romance, but underneath that superficial layer is a horrible tragedy. A kind of fantasy rooted in a cynical reality. And each character has to decide which one that they want to exist in.” It sounds amazing, well-thought-out, and many share that opinion with you. Jimin seems to become more enthused as time goes on and the other people around the table pitch in their own ideas on what they’d like to see. You’re excited that your Broadway debut is with such an amazing storyline and crew. “Slow music begins to play, there’s fog on the ground,” Taehyung reads, building up the tension carefully. “Only the right side of the stage is dimly illuminated. Hanna stumbles into the spotlight, looking around. She is equally amazed and horrified at the snow.” You keep your eyes trained on the lines while trying to keep your hands from shaking with excitement. You’ve never participated in the first reading of a script before. Or any reading for that matter. “What’s going on?” you read, brows furrowing as your voice becomes animated. Taehyung continues, “She puts out her hand as snow begins to dust from the sky. Then she runs off. The townspeople flood in and the first song begins…” As the reading of the first scene progresses, you take notes on what needs to adjust, how to convey certain portions, how you should sound and what your expressions should be like. And an hour later, the meeting ends. You meet the rest of the crew briefly and another date is set for the next reading. You’ll have to work on memorizing your parts and interpreting the rest of the script. “What do you think?” Jimin asks as you’re both walking down the street together. “I’m excited. Nervous.” “Why nervous?” He holds your hand, lacing your fingers together and giving a squeeze. It makes you warmer on this winter afternoon. “Cause it’s my first time and it’s such an important role, I don’t want to mess up.” “You won’t,” he reassures. “With your work ethic, you’ll probably memorize the script and the lyrics to your solo by tomorrow night.” A laugh pulls from your chest and he stops for a second. “Don’t overwork yourself.” “Speak for yourself,” you counter, “you have a show in four hours. Shouldn’t you be getting ready for it?” “Yeah, I just want to walk you home first.” Jimin gives a sheepish, shy smile. “What time are you coming home tonight?” “Eleven or twelve.” You hum, leaning your head on his shoulder as you both walk. “Make sure to eat before you go and you don’t have to rush to memorize the script. We can do that together.” “Okay.” He smiles. Things couldn’t get any more perfect than this. After so much pain and suffering, you finally get a taste of what you deserved all along, and you’re even happier that you aren’t alone to reap the benefits. Jimin’s here to experience the joys with you. // For the weeks to come, you go to rehearsals diligently. There’s lots of time spent learning the songs, how to convey the right emotions from each scene that you have, memorizing the script, learning the dance routine that happens at certain parts. You don’t have to loiter at home, drink rosette, eat chocolate — not like that wasn’t amazing in itself, but it feels good to have something to do, something that you’re passionate about. The studio becomes a place you’re happy to come to instead of a place you dread. There are times you run into Director Kang and other members of the Phantom production, but they ignore you outright as if you were never there. Only Taeyeon spares a glance and a slight smile. “Y/N!” Director Lee calls out, interrupting your train of thought, “Could you come here for a second?” There’s lots of attention on you, more than you’re used to. You’re used to your name being called when something goes wrong, when you have to do coffee runs or to clean up spills — but now they ask for your input or for technicalities. It’s a better spotlight that you’re glad to be a part of. “Has she even worked anywhere else?” But still you hear the whispers. “She doesn’t look like she knows what she’s doing half the time.” “Isn’t she the ghost singer for Phantom?” “Oh yeah, that. But isn’t that it? How did she land a main role already?” “You tell me,” she murmurs. “Maybe she has...relations with the director.” “Ew, gross. But I wouldn’t put it past her…” Your hand tightens into a fist, wrinkling the hem of your sweater. But before you can turn around to say something, you’re interjected— “Don’t you two have something better to do?” Yeonjeon scoffs with her arms crossed. “If you guys have something to say, then say it to her face! Don’t be a coward and spread rumours because you’re jealous.” They open their mouths and then close it, glancing at you and becoming embarrassed. The girls curse and quickly walk away. You smile at Yeonjeon. “Thank you.” “It’s no problem. Just pisses me off when people think they’re better when they’re obviously not — they’re supporting actresses for a reason. If they were good, they would’ve taken the main role like us,” she says to you with a roll of her eyes. “But don’t mind them. People will always be jealous of the superior.” You grin. That’s one way to look at it. “Did you take a look at The Collision of Seasons yet? It’s a duet for us.” “Of course I’ve looked at it,” she laughs. “I’ve memorized the lyrics already. But I’m looking forward to actually getting to sing with you. It’s a good song.” “It is! I just hope I can convey the emotions well.” “Same here.” Yeonjeon offers a warm smile, her eyes practically glistening. “But we’ll work together on it. Anyways, are you free after this rehearsal? I’d love to grab a cup of coffee with you. It’ll improve our on-stage chemistry and I’d love to get to know each other better.” “S-Sure!” You’re ecstatic to have made a new friend since you don’t have a lot of them. Not only is Yeonjeon beautiful, but she’s kind inside. She’s friendly and you find it easy to open up to her. After a long day of rehearsals and eight hours of practice, it’s nice to warm up inside a cozy coffee shop, holding onto a steaming cup of coffee and letting the heat transfer to your freezing hands. “So it’s true then?” Yeonjeon’s brow raises in amazement. “You were really the ghost singer? Wow. I would’ve never thought. That sounds...rough though.” “It was. There are times it got pretty tough but I got through them.” She sips her latte. “Honestly, I don’t think I could ever do it, so props to you. You’ve pretty much performed more than I have.” “Well, it wasn’t a real performance,” you tell her sheepishly, shy under her excessive praise. “I was behind the curtain, so I still have a lot to learn about what it takes to be on stage.” She waves her hand, dismissing your self-deprecation. “Oh, don’t sell yourself short. I’m sure you’re amazing. Good enough for the director to cast you with a main role.” “I don’t know about that…” Yeonjeon sips on her drinks again, her eyes pierced above the rim of her cup. She savours the taste and smacks her lips together. “Speaking of main roles, you look pretty close to Jimin. How long have you known each other for?” You frown, trying to recall. “About a year now?” “Wow. Yeah, I thought so. You guys looked pretty friendly with one another. Where’d you meet?” “He’s actually my neighbor,” you confess, the memory making your heart flutter. “He moved in a year ago.” “What a coincidence, but it makes sense.” Yeonjeon smiles at you, lashes batting. “Jimin was an intern in Phantom at some point too, right? I heard him talking about it once.” “Oh yeah, he was, but he worked there for a shorter period of time than I did.” “So you two must go way back then.” She nods and rests her chin in her palm, commenting, “He’s pretty cute. Have you ever thought about dating him?” You feel your face heat. “A-Actually….we’re...dating right now….” “Really?” She’s surprised, but smiles with twinkling eyes and snaps her fingers. “I knew it. You guys are such a good match!” You laugh quietly. “It’s all relatively new, so we’re taking it pretty slow to see where it goes…” “You guys have been dating for what three months?” “More like three weeks,” you murmur. “Yeah, it’s pretty new, but I love him.” It takes a skipped heartbeat to realize what you’ve spilled — the special three words that you’ve been thinking about for so long — and your eyes grow wide at once. “Don’t tell him that. Not yet.” She laughs. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” Yeonjeon leans in close, eyes glimmering. “Your secret’s safe with me.” You smile, happy to have made a new friend. But now that you were talking about Jimin, it dawns on you that you miss him dearly. // “You missed me?” “Course I did.” You pout. You’re not even sure how he has the strength to take you on a walk with you this late at night and hasn’t instead succumbed to his exhaustion and knocked out on the sofa. Between rehearsals for the original production and performing for Les Mis, Jimin’s always running around, barely having time to even eat. You feel bad that you can’t do anything to help him. His mornings, afternoons, and evenings are taken up by Broadway. But at least you know he loves it this way. “Sorry.” “Don’t be.” You frown at him. “If anything I’m sorry.” “But we barely get to spend time together.” “I’ll survive, Park. Always have and always will. Seeing you like this is enough for me.” “Well it isn’t enough for me,” he says and it brings back the heat into your face. Jimin laughs at your reaction and soaks in the way your expression twists. “Don’t tease me.” “It’s hard not to.” “Psh.” You shake your head, sighing lightly. The street is lit with dim lamp posts. The night is calm. You listen to the sound of cars rushing past in the far-off roads. It’s not so noisy as it is soft background noise. This is the city that never sleeps, that seems to come alive at night. It’s a city that you’ve grown to both love and hate. But having Jimin’s company makes it all the better. “Hey, Jimin.” “Hmm?” “I’m nervous,” you confide. It’s the first time you’re blurting out your truths to someone. “I’m worried that I won’t be able to perform in front of others. What if my stage fright comes back?” It’s silent and he looks ahead. “I saw your audition tape, Y/N. Taehyung told me that he finally got to watch it and when I asked him, he showed me. You were…” Jimin inhales and meets your eyes. “Crazy good.” “That wasn’t me trying.” You’re not being boastful, instead your tone is grievous. “It was one of the most impulsive things I’ve ever done.” “Were you that passionate because you were upset with me?” “No. There was just...a lot going on at that time. I didn’t even think they were taking me seriously.” He hums a low note. “You were good, Y/N. So imagine what it’ll be like when it’s not impulsive. Imagine when you take it seriously. You’ll blow the rest of us out of the water. Easily.” “You really think so?” The corner of his lips quirk. “You can sing in front of me, can’t you?” “Yeah, but you’re different.” “How so?” Jimin’s smile turns cheeky, happily fishing for compliments and your affections. You roll your eyes. “Because you’re Park Jimin. You’re not going to judge me negatively.” “That’s right. And I’ll make sure no one else judges you negatively either.” A light scoff falls out of you. “You can’t control that.” “Not if I can help it.” He grins and your footsteps sync with one another’s. The back of your hand accidentally grazes against his. But before you can flinch away, he grabs it. Your palms clasp and you squeeze tenderly. “I was reading over the script and there’s a kissing part.” “What about it?” “Well, I’m gonna eventually have to kiss Yeonjeon, but I really don’t know how I want to do it yet,” he says and your brows raise. A sly smirk tugs onto Jimin’s features. “I was thinking you could be my perfect partner to practice on.” “That’s all?” “Also, I really want to kiss you before I kiss anyone else.” You stop, turning to him. Jimin’s smiling, and you’re the one who closes the distance. You kiss away his shit-eating grin and it indeed melts against your mouth in turn to lock his lips better against yours. Jimin holds you by the waist, tilting his head to get a better angle. It’s soft and gentle to savour the moment. Soft smacking fills the quiet night and the crisp air doesn’t seem to lessen the heat in your body caused by Jimin. While you don’t get to spend your days together and you’re not a person of bold professions, this is the way you can show him, the way the two of you can show that you cherish each other. It’s a way beyond both time and speech. When you break apart, Jimin grins again. His eyes crinkle into crescent moons, much like the one hanging above your heads. “I think I’m going to need to practice more.” You laugh breathlessly. // Taehyung looks off his list and raises his eyes from the clipboard. It’s the first run through of the scenes, going over each of them slowly and following the director’s instructions and adjusting parts that anyone’s dissatisfied with. “We’re going to go onto Y/N’s solo now.” The other steps to the side and the blonde assistant looks to you. “Ready, Y/N?” You nod at Taehyung, stepping forward. One step at a time. One step at a time and you’ll overcome your stage fright. Your eyes flicker to Jimin’s in the mirror and he smiles warmly, giving a reassuring nod. With him here, you know you can overcome anything. You begin, the notes pulling from your throat, and neither of you notice Yeonjeon who’s standing in the corner. No one pays any mind to the way her eyes are narrowed into slits, how they’re pinpointed onto Jimin’s profile, and the way one corner of her red stained lips curl.
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Will the Bell Ring? Pt. 8
[Erik Killmonger x Black!OC]
Word Count: 4k
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
It’s the night before the vacation, and Kimara is still ripping around the house trying to figure out how to fit as many outfits into her bags as possible.
Erik sits on the bed scrolling through his phone. “It’s only five days, Mara. You already overdoing it.”
Kimara comes back with a couple of neon colored swimsuits in her hands. “I just have to have variety for the ‘gram. That means a different look a day, maybe even a couple different looks a day.”
Kimara got to her knees, stuffing a bag and closing it. The zipper traveled laboriously around the lip of the luggage, sticking at a thicker point. Kimara sat down on the bag to help it along a the zipper groaned close.
She takes a large exhale before saying, “Damn! I didn’t put my sandals in there!”
Erik scoffs as he gets up to use the bathroom. “You can just wear them to the airport or put it in your carry on.”
“No my carry on is filled with my hair and skin products, plus some towels cuz I don’t trust their towels, you know that.”
As Erik relieves himself, Kimara gets quiet, getting up and looking at herself in the mirror. Her fresh golden brown goddess locs flow over her breasts and down her back as she spins around checking her body’s profile.
The toilet in the other room flushes as Erik comes back, drying his hands on his pants. “Whatchu doin?”
“Well...I’m thinking this may be the last vacation I take as someone without kids. After this break, We finally take some major moves to go into getting pregnant.”
Kimara puffs out her cheeks holding her stomach as her vision goes blurry. The tears beat her before she could stop them, racing down her face to the finish line at her jaw.
Erik pulls her into him, rubbing her back gently. “It’s gonna be so good, because you’re good. We deserve a break and we deserve a family.”
Kimara holds her arms around him tighter, tears manifesting even more but out of his loving words. She never thought that after telling him she had her abortion that he would have anything kind to say to her. But it’s almost like it unlocked a much needed door that opened him up to fulling standing by her and her needs.
“We do deserve it. It’s been so hard, but I know we can do it,” Kimara sniffles. Erik kisses her forehead, wiping some stray tears from her face.
“Now, I don’t know about what you got left to pack but long as you have your passport, I think you have enough stuff. Go on and wash you ass off and get some sleep. The flight early as a motherfucker.”
Kimara agrees, going over to her vanity to tie up her hair. Erik grabs his phone and bounds down the stairs. He takes out a bottle of water, cracking it open and hooting after the cool liquid freezes the inside of his chest.
Hearing the shower turn on upstairs, Erik sits at the dining room table and dials T’Challa. The phone rings and rings.
“How are you, N’Jadaka?” T’Challa greets him warmly.
“I’m good, pretty good. Y’all excited for this trip though?”
“Ah, Iman is very excited. She has been looking forward to it ever since my invitation.”
“Good! You making sure she stay looking cute for you? Got her some nice pieces to impress?”
T’Challa answers slowly. “I...am glad you brought this up. We are no longer considered a couple. This will be a friendly trip for us at best, but we are not linked romantically.”
Erik expresses genuine shock, mouth agape over the phone. “Damn man, what happened?! Mara made it seem like y’all were a good look at that one dinner thing y’all came for. Shit, the fact you bagged her the first night told me you musta really been feeling her. What, she didn’t like your Jesus slides?”
“Aye!” T’Challa scolds him like a grandfather who can’t catch nobody for a whoopin but they know not to try him anyway. “My footwear has nothing to do with it. We are simply not compatible, but it was amicable.”
Erik shrugs. “Well whatever it is, I guess it’s for the best. I don’t get why somebody would pass on a literal King but listen, I will take you clothes shopping with me and we can make you over so you’re pulling females right and left!”
“Enough, I won’t beg for attention,” T’Challa says.
“Fair enough, aight. What about you then? Does it make it kind of awkward to go now your girl ain’t your girl?”
“No. It has been a while since I visited an island for pleasure, so it will be a nice change of pace. How about yourself and Kimara?”
Erik gets quiet, twisting a stray piece of string from his sweatpants that will guarantee making a hole if he snatches it.
“Well we good. Mara is excited and I am too cuz I need a break from the whites over at Boeing and this city air. But I did wanna talk about something she said to me that made me kinda take a step back, you know. Not like I’m stepping away but like it pushed me back like WOW.”
“Say it simply and clearly, N’Jadaka,” T’Challa says. Erik sometimes rambles when he has something big to say and T’Challa never fails to be impatient about it.
“Right, right. Aight. So, we having our time together, just hanging out and stuff when she turns to me and tells me something I did not expect. Like, I don’t know how she could keep that from me for so long considering all we been through.”
“What was it about?”
“Basically, she comes to me and says that way back, before we were officially a thing and before OUR shit together….Mara had an abortion. The baby was mine too.”
T’Challa sits on the phone quietly. He assumes this is the best method of digesting the information he already knew when he first met Kimara. She poured her heart out to him in the midst of Erik’s recovery and rehabilitation. But Erik couldn’t hear that and take it well.
“You still there, Challa?” Erik asks after a while.
“Yes, it is just a lot to hear.”
Erik throws a hand up. “Fuck yeah it is! Like...all this time we been trying for a kid. She didn’t think that should be brought up? I wonder if the doctors even know. That might be the problem we having in all this! Maybe her shit got botched or something.”
“I am sure the doctors would have noticed something wrong with her during routine examination if that were true. Non-surgical abortions are an option.”
Erik scratches his head. “Sure, yeah. But...why didn’t she say this YEARS ago! I been fucking with her for a decade, and she doesn’t trust me to know this? I’m still here!”
“You were different then Erik. So angry and feeling betrayed, she assumed you would think she betrayed you too.”
Erik thinks back to when Kimara met him in Wakanda, how tired she looked. But his reasons for being there were all about himself and Kimara wasn’t ready for that responsibility, that’s when she left him there. That was the best thing she could’ve done for him because he worked that whole year trying to get right for her again. And she was there in that studio she loves, waiting for him like always.
“I would have a ten year old right now. Almost middle schooler right now!” Erik exclaims, thinking about a little Mara/Erik hybrid running around and causing havoc.
“You can still have that. Just be honest with each other and what you are feeling,” T’Challa instructs.
“Yeah, I been doing that. I can tell Mara been walking around like a puppy caught chewing a shoe since she told me. But I won’t let her see me upset, I need her to know I am there. That’s what made all this happen in the first place right? I wasn’t there, so...Imma be there.”
T’Challa wants to say more but fears overstepping the bounds of Erik and Kimara’s relationship. “Tell her you are upset about it.”
Erik hears the shower upstairs turn off. “Nah, I’m good. Her feelings are all I’m worried about. I can’t risk her turning from me again man. But thanks Challa, you always got a good er for listening, so I’ll talk to you later man.”
Erik hangs up to go back upstairs, feeling lighter having had a talk with someone he trusts. Kimara is already laid up with the covers under her chin, fake sleeping. Erik takes off his pants, rolling into bed with nothing between his skin and the sheets. Mara is wrapped up in one of hs tshirts and turns her back to him to allow her little spoon to fit his big spoon.
“Why are you acting like you cold?” Erik asks. Kimara is usually in the buff like him when they sleep.
“Because I am. You got the air on too damn chilly,” Kimara’s teeth chatter as she settles in to him, his body heat eventually making up for the lack of heat outside their blanket cocoon. Erik kisses her behind her ear, thinking about tomorrow’s trip with a little dread.
--
Kimara, Erik, Iman, and T’Challa all make their way off of the plane as they arrive at the beautiful resort in Turks and Caicos.
“Look at all the amazing views! That water, ugh!” Kimara excitedly rolls her luggage over to a window that oversees the resort’s amenities. An infinity pool, hot tubs, massage areas, sauna, a bar that catches Kimara’s eye for having real coconuts to drink from.
“Erik, look! That canopy I think has the couple massage shit. I reserved it for us on Thursday at 10am.”
“Ok, princess. That sounds good,” Erik says with not nearly as much excitement.
Iman stands next to Kimara, eyes widening. “Ooh child, yes! Imma look good for these champagne papis looking for a sugar baby to spoil. Can we please get our room so I can change out of these airport struggle clothes?!”
“I hear you on that,” Erik says, leading the group to the reception desk. Kimara hangs back with T’Challa who has been awfully quiet.
“Are you and Iman…” Kimara whispers.
“No longer a couple,” T’Challa finishes. “It’s not something to worry about, we are friends.”
“Oh ok, cool. Cuz when she started talking about finding a sugar daddy I was like whaaa?”
T’Challa shrugs. “She is free to do as she wants, as am I.” T’Challa offers Kimara a soft smirk to confirm his contentment.
Kimara gives his arms a squeeze. “Ohh, T. You got your pick of the litter around here. You the damn ultimate sugar daddy! I just don’t understand the girl!”
“Most people don’t recognize fortune at their feet when their nose is in the air.” Kimara lets out a small ooh enjoying the lowkey burn T’Challa just sent Iman’s way with her being none the wiser.
Erik and Kimara split down a hall to the left as T’Challa and Iman split down a hall to the right. The hall is decorated with hanging plants and wicker framed artwork, giving off heavy gentrified bohemian vibes.
As Erik opens the door to the room, Kimara bursts in and rockets herself into the bedroom. Erik rolls his and her luggage in.
“Damn, this place looks nice as hell baby!” Kimara calls out from the room.
“It should be for what it cost.” Erik looks out at the beach below watching some middle age white folk laying like lobsters out in the sun. Middle aged white folk running along the shore. Elderly white folk sitting in the ocean.
“There sure is a lotta fuckin white folk here,” Erik says, walking around the room to check out the bathroom and kitchen area. The fridge has fresh strawberries and grapes, a sack of bagels, orange juice and a case of bottled water. On the counter next to it is a menu for room service and a schedule for group meals during their stay. Erik takes it into the bedroom with him to alert Kimara.
“You tryna catch dinner happening tonight? Supposed to be a barbecue thing.”
Kimara groans, head face down in the pillow, locs sprawled all around. “I can’t even think about eating when my body just wants to do nothing. I’m tired.”
“You sure? I know your ass finna get real hungry later. You ain’t had nothing but them pretzels on the flight,” Eric warns.
“I can’t get up! And I won’t until I knock out, Erik please let me sleep.”
Erik tuts at her. “Ok, princess. But I ain’t paying this high ass room service cuz you slept thru dinner.”
Kimara wiggles around, fighting her hair to get a good look at him. “Stop acting broke, Erik. It’s not a good look. And you know I’m grown right? I can do what I want? Right? Ok, glad we up to speed.”
Erik rolls his eyes as Kimara plops her head back down, shimmying under the covers like a prairie dog.
--
Kimara rolled over to one side, feeling the grip of sleep starting to loosen its hold. Kimara stretched from her fingertips to her toes, seizing up in the bliss of her fully relaxed muscles. She sits up, pulling her locs back as her eyes adjust to the dark room.
“Where the fuck- OH!” Kimara puts a hand to her heart, forgetting that she was not home and still on vacation.
She gets out of be and checks the time on her phone is 11:14 pm and a waiting text from Erik.
“Did I really sleep for 8 hours?” Kimara asks herself, wiping her eyes as she looks around the room, finding a lamp to turn on. She sits on the couch feeling her stomach grumble.
“Goddamn I am hungry,” She says, picking up the pamphlet Erik was looking at for room service. But it ended at 10:30.
“That is bullshit.” Kimara sits back pouting, wondering what she was going to do for food. She checks her phone again, almost forgetting Erik texted.
BBQ in fridge, it reads. Timestamp says 7:13pm.
Kimara bolts for the fridge to find a tinfoil wrapped plate sitting on the shelf just for her. She does a little dance to open it up, finding pork ribs, chicken, corn on the cob, mashed potatoes, green beans and a roll. She takes a bite of the bread first, shimmying her shoulders with glee that it is a King’s Hawaiian.
She pops the plate into the microwave, hopping on her tiptoes in anticipation for some chowdown goodness. Once the microwave beeps, the room door opens.
“Sleeping Beauty finally awake?” Erik asks, his breathing is a little labored.
Kimara picks up her plate and brings it to the kitchen bar, climbing up on a stool. “Mh-mm, not until you come over her after leaving me all day on vacation.”
“Girl please,” Erik says walking over to plant a kiss on Kimara’s lips.
“Oof, you are sweaty! What you been doing tonight?”
Erik’s tank top draped over his shoulder, Kimara stares at the glistening of his scarred skin as he gets a bottle of water.
“Me and T and his girl been downstairs hanging out, mostly me and T though. How’s your barbecue?”
Kimara shrugs. “It’s ok. The sauce could be better but long as the meat ain’t pink I’ll call it a blessing. Hand me that salt shaker by the stove.”
Erik does so, standing on the other side of the bar to wipe his face and neck with his shirt.
“And I am so surprised they are even on this trip together still,” Kimara says while shaking some salt over her beans and corn.”
“Who?” Erik asks.
“T’Challa and Iman! You know what, I forgot to mention. I spoke to T’Challa at check in and he said they broke things off.”
Erik points in the air, remembering, “You right yeah he mentioned that.”
“Oh, he told you today while y’all were hanging? Did Iman say anything?”
Erik shakes his head. “Nah, he told me the day before.”
Kimara cocks her head to the side thinking. “The other day? Like yesterday?”
“Yeah, I called him when we were packing.”
“But I didn’t hear you talk on the phone. We were together that whole time,” Kimara says, pausing her meal to think about it.
Erik shrugs. “You were in the shower.”
Kimara wants to fold her arms but her bbq sauced hands prevent her. “Hand me a paper towel.”
Erik does so. “Is something wrong with me taking a call with my cousin?”
Kimara scoffs while cleaning her fingers. “Not at all. What did you all talk about?”
“The trip. Just how excited we were and then he brought up they aren’t a thing no more.”
“Really? Huh. I think that’s weird Erik.”
“What’s weird about it?” Erik counters, looking sternly at Kimara.
“You didn’t tell me you called him and you almost always tell me when you’ve seen him or heard from him when I ask you about the day.”
“Almost, you said. SO this one time I didn’t. I don’t think you asked about my day either,” Erik quips.
“Because we were together the whole day, I know how it went cu I was there.”
“Sure.”
They pause in silence for a minute, Kimara staring him down and Erik returning the glare.
“Problem, princess?” he asks.
“You’re hiding something.”
“I talked to my cousin, what else is there to it?!” Erik barks, making Kimara jump on her stool. She gets down, creating some distance.
“All I asked is what you all talked about. And I didn’t even know you had a conversation with him one day before our trip, I think it’s sus.”
“Oh, I’m sneaky? That’s a big accusation.”
Kimara felt something twist in her chest. “What does that mean Erik?”
Erik walks into the bedroom as Kimara follows. He turns into the bathroom and starts the shower as Kimara sits on the bed waiting. When Erik comes back out, Kimara wastes no time.
“You told him didn’t you,” Kimara says quietly. She doesn’t look at Erik, hoping she is wrong and overreacting and waiting for him to say so, but he sits down instead.
“I told him what you told me.”
Kimara exhales deeply, holding her face in her hands. Erik takes her into his chest, comforting her.
“You didn’t have to tell him. Why would you tell him?”
“Like I said. He’s my cousin. Family oughta know and he knows a lot more worse shit about me than this.”
Kimara looks at Erik, holding his face in her hands. “I’m sorry you had more shit to tell him. How did he react?”
Erik shrugs. “Kinda just neutral. It was so long ago, I wasn’t acting upset so I think he knew he didn’t have to be.”
Kimara feels a small victory in that. She still feels like she should confront T’Challa about it, just to make sure they are on the same page.
“I’m glad you weren’t too upset then. You don’t have to tiptoe around me, just tell me what’s real. We gotta be honest about what’s going on.”
Erik gives a small smirk. “He said something like that too.”
Kimara hugs Erik, taking this battle as a win. “You can take a shower now.”
Erik chuckles. “Yeah me and T had a volleyball match downstairs that got hella intense.”
Kimara gets up, putting on her shoes. “Well I think I should take a walk along the beach some.”
“Yeah, you got energy now from that long ass nap of yours. Be careful though. Call me if you need something.”
When Kimara makes it to the bottom floor, the automatic doors leading outside create a gust of air that whips Kimara’s sundress almost too high for public decency. As she steps out on the sand, she looks around the dimly lit beach area. Along the sand there were vendors and seating but into the ocean the sky was so dark and the ocean almost looked like oil. The moon wasn’t shining so bright, so she could barely catch any blips of light against the waves.
“Kimara!”
She turns to see Iman bounding towards her. She has a generous F cup size, barely being held by her neon yellow bikini top, making her noticeable even in the night.
“What’s going on? You just woke up?”
“Yeah, too bad I didn’t set an alarm. Heard you guys had fun.”
Iman smiles. “Hell yeah we did. T and Erik had their guy time, being macho all on the volleyball court. Busted two damn balls cuz they throwing their hands so damn hard.”
Kimara laughs. “Erik refuses to let T’Challa win in anything so that’s accurate.”
“Right! Hey look, so project Sugar Daddy is underway. I got a bunch of drinks off this old man that kept a tab open. I think he forgot because he’s old but that’s besides the point. But he offered to play yahtzee or mancala or something tomorrow with some of his buddies. That should be lit!”
Kimara throws her hands to the sky. “I mean what else is there to do. Make sure his tab is open.”
“Only way to play!”
Kimara looks around Iman. “T’Challa is down here, right?”
“Uh huh, cooling off over there even though he barely broke a sweat. He act kinda like a mutant sometimes. Too cool and too strong.”
“Is that why you couldn’t stand to be with him?” Kimara asks.
“A little, yeah, and that tooth necklace he always wear is weird. He wasn’t giving me a lot of himself so I figure good dick is everywhere. I’ll pass.”
Kimara shrugs and dismisses herself to go talk to T’Challa. He is laid out with his hands behind his head, looking rather peaceful.
Kimara comes up to him and smacks his perfectly toned stomach. T’Challa peeks open one eye knowingly.
“Kimara,” he says in a monotone.
“Don’t gossip with Erik, ok?”
T’Challa sits up. “In what way?”
“I mean in the only way. Speaking behind my back. Talking about personal things without the other person’s input.”
“If this is about your shame-”
“HA! Shame? You keep calling it a shame, I am not ashamed anymore! He knows and he is fine. We are fine!”
T’Challa blinks unperturbed. “Then what is the problem?”
“Just!” Kimara sits by his legs to form her thoughts. “Erik didn’t know about that, you did. He hasn’t known for years and just found out. If he knew you knew, wouldn’t that be a problem?”
“No.”
“Exactly, so-- Wait, no?”
“No, it wouldn’t be a problem. Because if he blames you, he is completely missing the situation he put you in. It would be selfish of him to hold that against you.”
“Uh huh…”
“But for you to not say anything at first was for his benefit when he was emotionally and mentally bruised by his background. However since he has recovered and continues to, holding that back then turns into a betrayal to him because it looks as though you don’t trust him or yourself.”
Kimara stands up. “The fuck? Why wouldn’t I trust him?!”
T’Challa shrugs.
“No you got so much to say, say what that means!”
“All I know is I have no secrets between you and I or he and I. Why there is miscommunication between you two is something for you both to find out. And I suggest you do before becoming with child.”
“Fuck you T’Challa. Honestly. Don’t come at me like this. I said keep your mouth shut about me around Erik, period. So do that. I don’t know why you came on this trip anyway. It was a couples trip and you brought a random bitch out here like that’s ok.”
“It didn’t cost me much,” T’Challa says, sinking back in his chair with his hands behind his head.
Kimara walks along the beach fuming. T’Challa was so blunt with her, he hadn’t acted like that with her in a long time. T’Challa acts like he is so perfect, but he isn’t. Kimara sighs heavily with the prospect of being here four more days but T’Challa will not be with Erik for as much of the trip as possible as far as she is concerned.
Masterlist
Ragtag
@chaneajoyyy @sarcastic-sunshines @muse-of-mbaku@dameshaemonique @fonville-designs@destinio1@bakarisange l@wakanda-inspired @klaine15689 @savageiz @nickidub718@yoyolovesbucky @alexundefined @forbeautyandlife @bakarisangel @amorestevens
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Sportsmaster/Icicle + ISA - OBLIVIOUS -"What does Crusher have to do to make Jordan understand what he wants? After dropping numerous hints, Crusher decides that subtlety is not his style." [BONUS POINTS: The other ISA members thoughts during Crusher's prowl. Amused Paula, Haughty Henry (He's been dropping hints for YEARS and all this blonde lunk has to do is flex, dafuq!?!?!?!! and a reluctant Ito who unwittingly gets caught up in it all]
i (unfortunately) present sportcicle: origins. takes place somewhere early on
---
“I’m just saying, babe, if I died I’d want you to be gettin’ it on, y’know?” Larry says, momentarily muffled underneath the resounding crack of the nose he’s just broken. Councilman Spencer’s face, meet bat.
Guaranteeing William Zarick’s reelection is the work of minutes, playing with the would-be candidates-- well, Larry can go all night. Steven’s even agreed to watch the kid, on the one condition that Artemis refrains from pulling on Juniper’s tail. Repeating last time’s unpleasantness, and both cat and girl had been firmly at odds with each other then, would supposedly result in a lifetime ban from the Sharpe household. It’s hard to tell whether Larry minds.
“Yeah but you’re... you,” Paula helpfully offers, hypnotising in full Tigress regalia, as she delivers a roundhouse kick to the councilman’s gut. It’s their third in two nights and particularly pathetic, if the whimpering’s anything to go by. “It’s been, what, three years? Jordan’s probably still moping around. He’s one of those.”
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about! Someone’s gotta step up and--” Their target’s started sniffling through the usual promises of please, I’ll do anything and other sob stories. Larry’s heard it all before. “Do you mind? I’m trying to have a conversation here, pal!” He nods to Paula and finds that the crossbow does a more than sufficient job of shutting up the councilman.
Playtime’s over sooner than intended.
“God, that always gets me going,” Larry laughs and wraps an arm around Paula while he’s at it, relishing in her answering smile.
---
For the most part, he lets it simmer. There’s missed opportunities every now and again, vague frustration when lingering hands and obvious glances lead nowhere but, ultimately, fact of the matter is that Larry always gets what he’s gunning for. It’s that simple.
Couple weeks after Paula encourages him to keep at it, not that he’s in dire need of the reassurance, Larry finds his footing.
He’s been patient enough, he thinks, well accustomed to stalking his prey.
“Larry, you’re-- very early,” Jordan remarks, shuffling whatever paperwork he’d been working on a couple more times than would be deemed strictly necessary. He’s looking right at home in the here and now, all immaculate in his suit and tie, sat at the table that takes up the vast majority of the ISA meeting room. Very little of the damp and drafty tunnels reaches them.
“You know me, love them meetings.” Larry’s grinning wide, shark-like and nearly giddy with a manic sense of victory. “And hey, call me Crusher.”
“Right.” Jordan nods. “Crusher.”
Dissatisfied with the art of subtlety, Larry helps himself to a seat right next to Jordan, dragging the chair along until there’s barely any space left between them. That’s more like it. “Listen, Icy, I think you know we gotta talk,” he says, amicably sing-song.
Perplexingly, Jordan stiffens, rigid like he’s bracing himself for a blow. Something to look into, then. Larry keeps on smiling. “If this is about Cameron drawing Artemis with horns, I don’t know what that’s about and I had a talk with him but, Lar-- Crusher, they’re in the second grade and it’s hard to explain these--”
“What? No!” Larry chuckles, shaking his head as he places a firm hand on Jordan’s knee. “Slow down there, bud,” he adds, bizarrely fascinated by the sting of ice underneath his palm.
“Oh.”
The cold, against reason, faintly recedes. If it’s emotion that gets Jordan freezing up, he’s willing to see what else he can inspire in him. “You know ol’ Crusher’s here for ya, right?” He rubs at Jordan’s knee as he meets his eyes -- blue on blue, though Larry’s bright with glee. “Say, if you’ve been feeling lonely lately, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”
Jordan, carrying all the allure of a cornered animal, looks down at Larry’s hand like he’s seeing it for the first time. He tries for a smile, though the act’s always looked painful on him. “I guess--”
“Uh-huh, uh-huh, listen, buddy, I just gotta tell you,” Larry starts, exceedingly indulgent in the way he’s managed to scoot even closer, “you don’t look good. I’m thinkin’ a trip to Ripped City would really work wonders on you. Get those muscles moving, right? I know a good workout always cheers me up.”
And maybe Larry’s got a different kind of workout in mind but he doesn’t let the thought deter him. The gym’s win is his, too. Then again, he’s sure he’s got Jordan all the same.
“I’ll, um, think about it,” Jordan allows and as he makes to stand up, Larry grabs his wrist. It’s a loose hold, functionally mild in the grand scheme of things. The glint in Larry’s eyes is anything but. There’s more Sportsmaster than Larry Crock in the way he’s holding himself, the predatory quirk of his smile -- rarely glimpsed beneath the mask.
“Or, and here’s an idea, I could make your mind up for you.” Out in the field, it might very well be a threat. Here, Larry merely tilts his head, perfectly genuine.
---
Jordan’s sitting on the table right in the middle of the ISA headquarters, legs spread wide to accommodate Larry standing between them. His hair’s a mess. “The meeting’s gonna start soon,” Jordan whispers, visibly breathless as he grips at Larry’s shoulder, fingers digging in when he’s rewarded with a kiss high up on his neck.
“C’mon, bud, we’re all friends here,” says Larry, grinning wide, as he steps back just enough to get a good look at Jordan and whistles. “Whoa, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
There’s patches of ice here and there, skin curiously gone crystalline where -- Larry assumes -- Jordan might ordinarily be flushed. If he’s finding it difficult to maintain eye contact, Larry’s got no such problems. He pulls him by his undone tie into a rough kiss, breathes some life into the frozen landscape of Jordan. It’s not too long until they part, Jordan’s lips gone all red. A moan escapes him when Larry offers a hand to grind into where he’s straining against the fabric of his pants. “Just what you needed, huh?” Larry asks, though he’s got an inkling of the answer already.
It’s then Jordan flinches at the not-so-distant conversation drifting through the tunnels. “Crusher, we need to-- stop. We need to stop,” he gasps out and he certainly reaches for Larry’s hand, a valiant effort when he’s sounding like it’s taken everything he’s got to give, but merely holds it in place, unwilling to let go.
Larry laughs, gleefully manic, and lets Jordan rock against him for a moment longer, considers unzipping him just as Dr. Ito steps through the door.
“Spoilsport,” he remarks, thoroughly amused.
Feeling especially generous, Larry even helps Jordan off the table, stealing one last kiss in the process. “You should come over! My turn to cook tonight and Paula says I do a mean grilled salmon,” Larry adds, perfectly casual.
There’s little Jordan can do but nod, eyes fixed on their arriving teammates.
#jordan mahkent#larry crock#paula brooks#stargirl#icicle#sportsmaster#tigress#sportcicle#fic#I DESPERATELY HOPE THIS DOESNT SUCK IM SORRY IF IT DOES#anon#ask
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Cobra Kai LOVE
So I finally got to watch all of Cobra Kai after loving the first two free episodes on Youtube but not affording it or having access til Netflix.
Dad and I nostalgia tripped it together and it's so good and it was also a great little family thing to do for us, since we always watched the movies as a family and are missing Mom, and I cried (there were some moments in season 2 especially hard) and laughed and we both loved it and I can't wait for season 3.
What can you say about a show that picks up 30 years after a properties heyday and kills as a tie-in! That honours the themes, and even better the cheese and feelings of the originals. Be it kick-ass karate, 80s style and music, the over the top plotting, and the profound kinda searching for inner life peace mixed with silly karate moves or metaphors and longing for Dad guidance.
I absolutely adore Johnny, who is by no means a perfect person. He's a stunted functional alcoholic who reopens his best part of his life, he tragically peaked in high-school (Christ!), for the best intentioned reasons, not realizing until committing the same mistakes how toxic it was the first go round.
Daniel. Oh you sweet fucking it up-ward man. Every movie was Miyagi having to help you pull your hot head out of your own ass because you were desperate to earn inner acceptance through outer validation and he's not around to do it anymore and you sweet pea think you've got it figured out, that you can give it to kids or protect them from the bullying toxicity of the way that high-school and a loss of place moving to California and Cobra Kai did you in, but you just keep jumping from victim to projecting and anticipating victim-hood and responding against Miyagi's first lesson, learn karate so you don't have to use it to fight.
It's sad and beautiful that these two are twinned and stuck in their pasts. Man-children in their 50s still trying to grow up (And figure out technology in Johnny's case LOL) hurting their future generation.
The teen themes are great.
Teen Breakdown of S1 & S2
The beginning popular crowd being easy and simple bullies. Morphing in Season 2 as both Cobra Kai and Demetri, Robbie and Sam trade off with Hawk and Tory on are we the bullied or the bullies all at once. Free for all high-school fight!
Aisha and Miguel represent the honesty of strength of self and confidence in finding themselves and their voice in Cobra Kai.
Hawk and Demitri, of using a newfound self to bully or staying safe to play victim.
Robbie as the growth from getting respect and guidance from Miyagi karate and Daniel, being the truest student, to the heartbreaking reality it doesn't mean you still don't crave wanting to be declared ultimate right or winner and fuck yourself over with your past issues.
As Miguel does the twin tango with him in having innate respectability and good moral guidance, even passing it to Johnny, but slipping into loss at the karate finals, mentally giving into loss of morality being violent to show his strength and losing himself and his GF, and physically when he's hurt (please be just hurt) defending the good guidance of mercy and stopping fighting.
But yeah, I could do essays on all the teens.
Then there's Sam, Daniel 's daughter. Robbie's mirror student and Aisha should be her foil but I fear based on a rumour and the way of season 2, they went with the easier and show attractive rival GF Tory. Samantha Larusso is a problem. She is marked good, to be going the way of Robbie to being the child of the former protagonist that leads into a creation of harmony among the two karate's and teachers/families/philosophies. Instead despite the show sympathizing and trying to identify with her as that role, she's straight up a cause of strife and exhibits neither the good traits of Miyagi karate, or a inner self confident bravado of Cobra Kai. She's almost the bizzaro evil version of a teen Ali, and that guy from the third movie. She thinks she's both victim and bad ass and she's just someone who needs a good dose of someone sitting her down to tell her she's owed or earned either status. And Aisha, the friend she wasted for faux status as a popular pretty girl, as well as her adult parents letting her currently skate responsibilities of teenage dramas and violence, and her suitors, whom she waffles unhealthy betwixt so that they all suffer, are the ones to do it. She doesn't need her ass kicked by Tory, who is a one note character, she needs her mindset toggled by realizing her self-wants aren't priority. Basically grow up, and outta the me mentality.
What's fabulous is the show honoring it's roots in teen drama and life so it's not like the drama is too over the top. How their world revolves around them and their perception of the importance of their wants. Romance. Party. Popularity. Identity.
Leading to the teenage version of power posturing. Bullying. (Which even the adults haven't mastered escape from.)
The high-school pettiness and importance of structure and status and coolness. The different norms of today versus the 80's that are still about wealth, the right looks (cultural or physical), and violence being the forever enforcer. Of course kids will break down along the lines of Cobra Kai and Miyagi karate. Brute correctness or passive acceptance?
Seeking strength and refusing to accept weakness of self builds confidence. Using that strength to physically fight in anything but defense brings a cycle of conflict and violence.
Neither the past nor the present generation ignore the other big life influence of the age. There you have the Daddy or parental abandonment angles.
Johnny's step dad failed him in absentee. Kreese used his position as teacher to abuse him. Johnny failed his kid in absentee. Johnny tries to uses his teacher position with Miguel to fix all these errors. Meanwhile Daniel is over there in the opposite corner with lost his father figure, and then Miyagi taught him respect and guidance and Daniel regained one and clung, and now Daniel is a lost or losing father figure to his own son and daughter, the family unit does not respect him or seek his guide. So he entwines his then teaching Sam and Robbie as a fix.
But does karate fix this shit?
So all these kids they drag in are confounded by the lessons because a step would be stop you yokels and talk or acknowledge what really happened in high-school and with All Valley and Ali and Kreese and Miyagi. And move on.
You won 30 years ago Daniel. Miyagi was a great old man and your teacher and like a Dad but you never had to be the best or have the girl to earn him. You got bullied by Kreese & co, were devalued because you weren't rich or popular in high-school. Some people were dicks. Or worse. Tell the world. You don't have to beat them now and forever to hold to knowing that. Be a happy car salesman and focus on your own kids.
Johnny, 30 years have passed my dude. You were okay with defeat when you gave Daniel that trophy and said he was all right. Cling to that guy, not the jerk with a shitty teacher/Dad, pining for a girl you were in conflict with. And stop reliving the mindset you were the loser in those things ending. You missed out on living with your losses and celebrating the moments between and after. Find a GF. Reconcile with your biological son. Admire and mentor your students of now. Take a lesson from your Miguel and be like the young man you clearly are learning from. You will never be a loser to this kid, you will always be the bad ass who defended him.
Also also, I hilariously crack-ship Daniel/Johnny as a love hate bromance. HEAD GAMES vid it!!
Also, Daniel's wife is a treasure with her snark on the childishness of this karate feud. She the MVP.
And I legit cried with my Dad and the Miyagi grave visit. At the Tommy scenes. At the Miguel voicemail. At the Mrs. Larusso Dad on my shoulder scene.
And you can't not laugh at dick billboard.
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I just want you to know who I am
Summary: Riley learns more about the past between Jackson and Bianca and how they ended up in Cordonia.
Word Count: 1781
Pairings: Drake x Riley, Jackson x Bianca, Constantine x Eleanor
Rating: Unplanned pregnancy, mention of abortion, like one sentence of smut, mention of alcohol, mention of miscarriage
A/N: I changed the mood board thingie along with the face claim to Luke Walker, that is all.
Part 6 of WP. To catch up read here.
Title was inspired by Iris by Goo Goo Dolls. Thanks @bobasheebaby & @kingliam2019 for helping me with titling issues!
Tag List: @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @bobasheebaby @bascmve01 @burnsoslow @the-everlasting-dream @ao719 @sirbeepsalot @janezillow @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @kimmiedoo5 @choices97 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @lodberg @edgiestwinter @marshmallowsandfire
“Where was I? Oh yes, so some weeks later, Bianca comes to the bar telling me that she needs to talk.”
Weeks have passed since Jackson had met Bianca. She had showed up at the bar a few times after their encounter, but she mostly just came since Maribelle and Beau had hit it off and Tanya and Cash had become a thing. Bianca and Jackson really didn’t talk when they all hung out, she spent her time flirting with whoever was close to her at the bar whereas Jackson was spending time with the others.
It is the last Friday night before Jackson is getting ready to head to LA and then back to Cordonia. Bianca hasn’t been to the bar in the last couple of weeks, but Jackson brushes it off, however when he sees her walk in that night, he knows something is off.
Usually she is all dolled up like she’s going somewhere other than a little southern hole in the wall. This time she’s in leggings and a baggy Texas sweatshirt, her hair up in a bun that has strands of hair falling out everywhere.
“Ja--. Jackson?” She barely whispers, “Can we talk?”
Beau and Cash just shrug as Jackson looks to them for help and he pulls her over to an empty booth in a quiet corner.
“Did something happen? Someone hurt you?” He starts asking, for the life of him, he wasn’t sure why he cared so much. She made it obvious to him since the beginning that he was just a hookup, but he still hated seeing any woman upset.
She looks up at him, not sure how this was going to go. She knows she’s been a bitch towards him since they met, but this was about more than just them.
“Hey, all the drama aside, I’m here for you,” he says, resting his hand on hers.
“I’m pregnant, Jackson.”
He can feel the color leave his face, “Oh.”
“It’s yours,” she says.
His mind starts racing, “Excuse me if I find that hard to believe.”
Her face drops, “Excuse me?”
He shrugs, “We slept together the first night we met. You said it was just a rebound, I don’t how many more you’ve had.”
She stands up, her voice raises, “Are you serious?”
“I want to be there for you, for this baby, but I need to know for sure. I’m not being that unreasonable here.”
Slowly she sits down, realizing that what he’s said is true. If roles were reversed, she’d be asking the same thing. Was she really that big of a bitch when they first met? Did she really come off to be that type of girl? He wasn’t wrong, he had been just a rebound and there had been others, but the others were protected. This wasn’t a situation she had planned to be in either.
“I’m not asking for a relationship.” She states flatly.
“If this baby is mine, I’m not just going to support it or you from a distance. I want to do this the right way. The proper way.”
“We don’t even know each other.” She honestly thought that he would just offer to pay for the situation to be taken care of.
“Guess we should start over.”
“Or we can just take care of it now.”
His eyes widen and she isn’t sure what he’s going to say or do, “That is not an option that I’d consider. If anything, I’d ask for you just to allow me to take the baby. No strings attached, but I know that ultimately it’s your decision.”
She cocks her head to the side, “You’d really just take the baby and not ask me for anything?”
“If that’s how you want to do this. I just ask that you give me a chance to show you that I’m serious about taking care of this child.”
“Guess that means we should start over, huh?”
“I mean we can only start over so much,” he chuckles.
* *
“Wait, wait, wait! You’re telling me that my husband was a rebound hookup in a bar bathroom?”
Jackson laughs, realizing how unromantic it sounded, “Yeah, he was.”
“How did your story go from that to love at first sight?”
Once again, he starts laughing, “Over the next few months, we spend a lot of time together. I went to all her appointments, took her to dinner, I even skipped out on my trip to LA and extended my stay in Texas.”
“So, you eventually won her over?”
“Not exactly.” He shrugs, “It wasn’t until Drake was maybe three that she softened up.”
“THREE!?” Riley practically shouts before composing herself.
“Sadly. The wedding was beautiful, I gave her everything that she wanted. Yet issues started again when I decided to move back to Cordonia. I got a call from the king to be in his guard, I couldn’t pass it up. Being in the King’s Guard was something all men in my family had done for as far back as we can trace it.
“Eventually she adjusted to our new life, her new life and she always said that one night she looked over at me and Drake and realized she loved me as much as I loved her.”
“My mind is blown right now.”
“But you can understand why that’s not the story Drake and Savannah were told growing up.”
“Yes, I can. So now back to the forbidden love part,” Riley leans forwards, completely intrigued by Jackson’s story.
Jackson is walking around the palace hallways. He’s off the clock, but he does one final sweep before leaving the castle grounds. He’s getting ready to head back to the cabin when he hears a faint crying noise coming from the study down the hall. He quickly dashes towards the study, walking into the room.
“Your majesty, is everything okay?”
She snaps her head up, quickly wiping her face, “Oh yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”
Jackson walks towards her, kneeling beside her, “If I may speak freely, you don’t seem okay, Queen Eleanor.”
She smiles slightly, “Even so, I shouldn’t keep you from your duties.”
He smiles, “Technically, I’m off the clock so no worries.”
“Shouldn’t you get back to your family?”
He looks at his watch, “Everyone’s already asleep. I usually just sit by the lake at this time and breathe.”
The two exchange pleasantries, small talk, both really dancing around anything heavy, not sure if they are willing to overstep their places.
“I miscarried today. Constantine shrugged it off, saying he already had an heir and spare. Then he left to go to Fydelia.” Eleanor’s voice cracks, looking up at Jackson with tear filled eyes.
“I am so sorry, Queen Eleanor.” He racks his brain for what to say.
“Once I found out, I was so excited. Liam is the light of my life, however I would be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping for a little princess this time around.” A fresh tear falls down her cheek, Jackson hands her his handkerchief, “Thank you.”
“I just wish I knew something better to say.”
“Just listening is the best thing, honestly. No one else has listened when I tried to talk about it.”
“It is my duty to serve the Crown and that includes listening to the Queen discuss whatever she pleases.”
Eleanor smiles, she knew who Jackson was due to his closeness with her husband, being a leading officer, Jackson was always attending private meetings, arranging travel and simply being the third person in the King and Queen’s marriage.
Weeks have passed and every Friday night, the pair have made it a point to sneak away and talk freely to one another. They get to talk about the things that their loved ones wouldn’t understand, some of those things being inside jokes about other members of the court. They have stricken up an unlikely friendship.
One Friday night, Jackson is getting ready to head to study on the other end of the palace. The one that no one uses. That’s on the other end from the palace’s Royal Wing. The study where Jackson and Eleanor meet up.
A few of the younger guards are walking towards Jackson, heading the opposite direction of where they should be doing their evening rounds.
“Sir,” one nods towards Jackson before being stopped.
“I do believe you three are on Royal Wing rounds tonight.”
“The King sent us home early.”
“Is that so?” Jackson’s brows knit together.
“Yes sir.”
Turning on his heel, Jackson walks back towards the Royal Wing, determined to get to the bottom of this. While it wasn’t uncommon for Constantine to dismiss guard members early, he usually discussed it with Jackson.
He didn’t have to get too close to the Royal Wing to figure out why the guards were dismissed. The royal suite’s door was open, causing the sounds from the King and Queen’s intimate encounter to fill the hallway.
“Oh. God. Fuck Ellie.” Constantine’s groans echo through the hall, lacing together with Eleanor’s, “Ah! Ah! Ooooh! Oh! G…g...gaaa…god! Yes!”
Jackson begins walking back towards the main area of the palace when the night head guard, Timothy, who relieves him, stops him.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes. Why?” His tone is heated, causing Timothy to grow concerned.
“You look extremely pissed off and your fists are clenched.”
He quickly unclenches his fists and shake his head, “Just the younger guards, always slacking off is all.”
“I heard about the King and Queen’s big night,” Timothy chuckles, “You know, she’s always been pretty quiet, makes you wonder what she sounds like in bed, eh?”
The anger grows in Jackson again, this time he doesn’t try to hide it, “Watch how you speak about Queen Eleanor or you will be charged with treason.”
The next day, Timothy and Jackson are in the king’s office for a monthly guard meeting. He comes in smiling; the two guards immediately stand up and bow slightly.
“You seem to be in high spirits, your majesty.” Timothy says.
“Good news on trade deals, I hope.” Jackson tries to change the direction of the conversation.
“Trade deals, you’re funny Jackson. A smile like that comes from a lady companion,” Timothy jokes.
“This smile comes from watching the queen come undone as I plow into her. It’s always the quiet ones who scream the loudest,” the king winks, causing Jackson to storm out in disgust, hating the way the king speaks of the queen.
* *
“You developed feelings for Queen Eleanor!?! I wasn’t expecting that either!” Riley exclaims.
He chuckles, “Not just feelings, I fell in love with her.”
Riley’s jaw drops as Jackson continues the story.
#choices#pixelberry#the royal romance#riley x drake#trr drake x mc#choices au fanfiction#trr jackson#jackson x bianca#constantine x eleanor#trr Riley brooks#trr drake walker#trr Eleanor#trr Eleanor rys#trr constantine#trr Constantine rys#witness protection#witness protection au fic#trr au fanfic#choices fanfiction#trr witness protection au#tw: unplanned pregnancy#tw: mention of abortion#tw: miscarriage#tw: mention of miscarriage#tw: alcohol#tw: mention of alcohol#tw: smut
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Last Friday, I had the absolute joy and privilege to see Be More Chill in London!
(Yes, last Friday, this has been sitting in my drafts for over a week because I couldn’t figure out how to appropriately convey my delight with this show, and also yes, joy and privilege, call me dramatic but I swear to god nothing on this Earth makes me appreciate my life quite as live theatre.)
I have loved this show for a very long time. Not quite since its first Two Rivers Theatre run, but very early on from when it caught the internet’s attention. I was at the start of what was to become a viral sensation, and I was with the show, rooting for it, hoping for it, ever since. I feel like I walked the journey from crossing million hits on Spotify to the Broadway alongside the cast and creators. I felt immensely happy and proud for these people I never met when they announced their off-Broadway return, and I honest to god cried the day they opened on Broadway. Needless to say, I was overjoyed, literally jumping with happiness, when they announced they will stage a production on West End. Or technically off-West End? I’m still very confused how The Other Palace is not West End and Victoria Palace literally around the corner is West End... Anyway. I have not walked into that theatre on Valentine’s Day with low expectations.
And my Mount Everest high expectations were far, far exceeded and shot somewhere into the stratosphere.
I really can’t with words describe how much I loved this show. Joes Iconis and Tracz managed to hit some very special spot with this musical. It’s truly hard to describe, but this show just makes you happy. It makes you involved and interested. And I gotta tell you, I think we hit the press night, because there was a bunch of people (very respectfully) scribbling on their pads and iPads during the show, so this wasn’t an audience primed and geared for this type of musical. And that’s not even counting all the parents chaperoning their teenagers. And I can guarantee you everyone had a great time. During the intermission I went to get a drink and witnessed several conversations between aforementioned parents that all pretty much amounted to “wow, this is actually good!” It’s honestly such a treat to be in an audience that’s genuinely enjoying themselves.
This show is funny, and heartfelt, and charming. So charming. It has somehow a vibe of a really well done high school production, which could maybe sound like a criticism but i swear it isn’t!
I haven’t seen much of the previous productions, except few clips from the Two Rivers bootleg slime tutorial, but I really tried not to watch too much, hoping against hope there will be a revival one day (I try not to watch shows I have a chance of seeing one day. I’m fortunate to have the chance of having the full experience live so I try not to ruin it for myself lol). I gobbled up all the official promo clips and videos from the NYC revival, being super unlucky and managing to plan my New York trip in that small window when BMC just closed Off-Broadway and before it got on Broadway. I haven’t even listened to the Broadway recording, because by the time it came out I knew they’ll be staging a production over here. So i went in quite blind. With all that previous ado, this is how it was:
The book is so good. So so good. Many times when I fall in love with an album, the actual musical doesn’t hold up because the book doesn’t compare (hi, Dear Evan Hansen). But BMC is as engaging and fun between the songs as during them. Tbh I don’t love the changes to the songs they made, but I don’t really hate them either... Now having listened to the Broadway recording they reverted somewhat back to the original album on West End and I’m happy they did, but still. Especially Pitiful Children did not deserve the cuts. But I mean its still mostly the same album and it’s brilliant and fun, and ok, Looser, Geek or Whatever is a bop.
(Although I always kinda liked that Jeremy didn’t have a typical big “hero song” because he keeps mentioning how he isn’t a hero and it was kinda ironic that his own show refused him the hero treatment, but the song is solid.)
This cast is EVERYTHING. I’m sorry all previous casts, I love you and I respect you but i really think the British cast is (so far) the peak? Obviously as I said I don’t have the full picture to compare, but honestly these guys are all so good and I can’t imagine anyone else in these roles, they set the bar so high. Yes, even Michael. Omg I’m so sorry George Salazar! This role is his in a very special way, and I feel blasphemous saying this! But that’s what makes Blake Patrick Anderson so special, because I didn’t think I will ever be able to accept another Micheal than George Salazar. But from the first moment Anderson appears on stage, you don’t think of George Salazar. This right here is a Micheal and that’s it. I think he’s slightly less... Manic, than Salazar, and more caring, but also more stubborn, and nerdy. My friend said after the first act the character’s problem is that he’s a bit too likeable and it’s almost unbelievable he would be a social outcast and she was right. The dude is so damn likeable! So charming, so positive. And then Micheal in the Bathroom hits and omg does it hit. Also Blake Patrick Anderson has a really long name is very pretty. A+ snack. I’m in love. Scott Folan is, uh, I don’t really love him vocally... Ok I liked him until Loser Geek of Whatever. I don’t know, maybe it wasn’t his day. Or maybe that song is just written for Will Roland and no one will ever measure up? Tbh I haven’t seen Roland sing it live so who knows, maybe it is one of those songs that’s hard to perform without yelling a bit. Praying circle for the West End cast album? However Scott Folan’s acting is a masterclass. He’s so awkward in the first act, so sad, but also sweet. Actually I said i didn’t love his singing but when his voice cracks all over in his first few songs it’s superb and also his “Christiiine~” is really beautiful and lovely, so, dunno *shrugs*. And then in the second half he totally sells his confidence and assholer-y and like... They seem like two different jeremys, the squipped and un-squipped one. But ultimately he just gives such good-kid vibes. He seems like the perfect midpoint between Will Connolly’s shy Bambi and Roland’s geeky recluse. This Christine is absolutely feral. Like, you have no idea. Some people commented on the video of I Love Play Rehersal from the rehearsals that this Christine is not chaotic enough, so I’m seriously worried how chaotic Stephenie Hsu was? :D In any case Miracle Chance I thought was perfect, the ideal mixture of quirky but relatable, sweet but strong. Also she is hilarious. I’m pretty sure she got the most laugh out of the audience, not just because the actress’s absolutely perfect comedic timing but also that role is so well written. Like you really can’t get the full idea of this character until you watch the show, you know? It’s very layered, but each layer is easy to get so she makes a really fun character to watch. The Squip is hot. Like so hot. And his costumes are wonderful. And I know I’m not the only one who didn’t love Jason Tam’s accent as Squip and like... I think I know what he was going for but it just doesn’t work for me. This Squip is a lot more like Eric William Morris, just more hot. Oh yeah I mean the dude is fantastic actor too, and his voice is something impressive, but mostly I was just thinking “hot” whenever he was on stage :D James Hameed’s Rich is vocally stunning. By far the best Squip Song I have ever heard. Also he has Pickle Rick tattoo?? It’s fucking brilliant I HATE IT! :D Millie O’Connel is perfect of course. She has such a presence on stage. It was hilarious when she came out after the show, with her hair down and make-up off and said hi and people mostly kinda ignored her cause... She’s really a hurricane on stage and when she dials it down just a notch I really think people don’t connect her to her stage persona :D
(Also like, massive kudos to The Other Palace’s stage door, cause they allow you to just hang around the bar where the cast has to go through to leave the place, so no dirty alleyways stage dooring in rain and cold and possible pickpockets around.)
I really loved the staging, and it’s very small, very minimal, which isn’t something I normally like, so well done! They definitely dialled back from the Broadway (the bean bags are back!) and honestly the minimal props and simple set really suit this show. It adds to that almost-like-a-really-good-school-play charm. But also they have this massive LED screen as the background so they can change and move and animate their backdrop and it’s honestly so impressive. The artwork is so perfectly in line with the show’s aesthetic. And it’s building up and up towards the show’s climax which I thought was pretty subtle and pretty neat creative decision.
Ugh this is so long I didn’t think it would be so long :D But I have one criticism I cannot not mention. And I kinda always had this, but seeing it live it jumps out on me more - I don’t feel Jeremy and Christine :| I mean don’t get me wrong. The actors have amazing chemistry, their added song is the one that I actually really like and it makes sense, there’s so much more meaningful interaction they have in the show than the songs wold suggest. But. It still doesn’t quite sit well. Besides the fact that I don’t think the show’s narrative is about Jeremy getting the girl - that’s not really his character arc. But also, although they’re not incompatible, he gets the girl he doesn’t even really know, and she definitely doesn’t know him. I think I would prefer if they just stayed friends at the end, but if there had to be romantic conclusion... Well, I mean who doesn’t ship boyf friends, but seriously if Michael was a girl I’m pretty sure he’d be the romantic endgame for Jeremy. You know the type, the old friend who was by the protagonists side and believed in him all along? Yeah. But besides that, i was surprised to find I kinda liked Jeremy with Brooke too? I mean they have the same problem as Jeremy and Christine, with not knowing each other and all that, but at least it’s mutual, and they seemed to have a spark. But maybe it’s just because I unexpectedly really, really loved Brooke (she doesn’t have much space on the album and no one ever really talks about her, why does no one really talk about her???). She defies a lot of her archetype, she seems like such a sweet person. I guess I would just like to see more of her, and more depth to her, which a romance with the protagonist would’ve given her.
But tbh the show devotes a lot more time than I thought it would for Christine and Jeremey’s relationship to develop and it isn’t unrealistic, so it ended up being a pretty minor issue, which i though would be a bigger one.
Tl;dr (oh my god why is this so long????) this show is everything I wanted and more. The West End cast is amazing, charming and delightful and each of them is perfectly cast to really embody their character, while giving some fresh outlook on characters I thought I knew very well and filling very big shoes of the original cast I thought couldn’t be replaced. Also I didn’t talk to any of them but they spend a long time hanging out with the fans after the show and seemed genuinely super nice and pleased with the love the show is getting. The book is more than an equal partner to the music I already was in love with (also Joe Iconis was at the show I saw! I didn’t talk to him because I’m me and I will forever regret it!). The Other Palace’s staging and direction is wonderful, and the choreography is impressive and very on brand with the rest of the show, very modern, very electro and robot. I enjoyed every second and the standing ovation at the end was well deserved.
Just to re-affirm how much I loved this show - just few days after seeing it I booked a ticket to go see it again almost immediately lol. So if anyone is seeing it this Wednesday 26th Feb and you can telepathically pick me in the audience come say hello!
(Or like, drop me a message like a normal person if you’re also going alone and want to meet with someone to seem less like a weirdo! :D)
#ramblings#i have a life#be more chill#bmc#be more chill west end#i love musicals!#musical theatre#review#i guess?#it’s pretty much just me yelling what a good time i had
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