#I mean come to think of it you weren’t entirely asking for quotes. Whoops. It’s too late you get it anyway
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
you 🤝 me
not being normal abt the dbhc au
YEAH. LITERALLY. Define normal because I sure as heck am NOT it. My gosh is the DBHC Ethubs brainrot strong.
sooooo as promised, quotes from my DBHC Ethubs wip :D (Edit: yeah so uh. that got a bit out of hand)
I’m the most happy with these and they probably won’t change too much when it comes time to put together the “donefinalfinal2.0take3” draft as I’m prone to naming things lol
#1
There’s a fond tilt to his lips as he cards his fingers through Bdubs’ hair, the sensation of the strands slipping through his fingers and the weight of the head pillowed on his chest grounding. It feels right, just so, a surety that seeps into his bones and nestles there. With Bdubs curled up on the grass beside him, face turned outwards and the sleepy smile tugging at his expression just barely peeking out from beneath the arm thrown over his eyes, the irony isn’t lost on him.
Dbhc Etho isn’t human, as much as he’s feeling and acting like one ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ so there’s a little nugget of angst there.
for context, they’re lying in the sun - it’s set around early season 10, maybe around when Bdubs plants the forest around his area. Seeing as Etho was made for terraforming and gardening, it would only make sense for him to be helping Bdubs out with it.
Anyway. Spending a long day in the heat to dig holes, place saplings in them and cover them over again is pretty physically intensive. So Bdubs, being Bdubs, is tired and just wants to lie in the sunshine for a bit. Who’s to say Etho doesn’t join him (he does) (Bdubs ends up lying his head on Etho’s chest)
(there’s some serious angst potential here. Bdubs missed his uh, friend, when he wasn’t around before redeviating. Maybe he cries about it. Maybe Etho has some feelings about that)
#2
“Hey, you,” Bdubs murmurs, nose crinkling as his face stretches into a yawn, shifting the arm thrown over his eyes to open them for a few seconds and squint up at where Etho stands, blocking the rays of late-afternoon sunlight.
“Hey yourself, ‘Dubs,” he replies, unable to help the amusement creeping into his tone. Unregistered emotion detected, the notification flashes, which he ignores in favour of stuffing his hands into his pockets, raising an eyebrow at where Bdubs lies spread-eagled on the ground by his feet, well-worn soil stained gloves discarded and cast off to the side. “What ‘cha up to?”
An incoherent “Mm” is all he gets in response, and it’s a conscious effort not to huff with laughter. The half-hearted glare from Bdubs proves the challenge impossible.
He could absolutely make a game of annoying Bdubs, Etho decides, mentally noting the thought and storing it to contemplate later. “I finished fixing your saplings,” is what he opts for instead, this time receiving a longer and slightly more coherent mumble he takes to mean as a thank you, and not a get your shadow away from me as it was likely intended.
“What was that?” He teases, putting a hand to his ear and leaning down slightly, blocking the sun further. “Is it past your bedtime?”
Bdubs scowls as a breeze sweeps past, and had Etho been human he’d be completely caught off guard as the other reaches up to yank his arm. As it is he makes a show of stumbling, catching himself before using the connection to pivot and flop down besides Bdubs on the grass, greeted by Bdubs blinking blearily up at him, one eye open and the other shut against the brightness once again unobscured by Etho’s figure.
“If you’re going to sit here, at least lie down, for goodness’ sakes,” he grumbles, but there’s no real heat behind the words. He resolutely ignores the way Bdubs’ touch lingers on his arm before falling back to his side. Unregistered emotion, the warning flashes. He ignores that, too.
formatting on mobile is incredibly time consuming but we got there in the end :’D
(This takes place earlier in the story than the first quote but shh)
anyway! I It’s far from finished and none of this is fully edited, so there’ll probably be changes in the future!
I hope you like it <333
for anyone not familiar with the au: it’s not mine, I’m simply writing a fanfic on it - go check out Shepscapades’ master post :) the art is absolutely incredible and I cannot recommend the entire thing enough
please do not repost my writing. Everyone is always welcome to reblog though ;)
#This got way out of hand. Sooo you get a bunch of writing and not just tiny snippets instead haha#I mean come to think of it you weren’t entirely asking for quotes. Whoops. It’s too late you get it anyway#My writing
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
empathetic — woozi
all you want, is for jihoon to care.
you always knew your boyfriend was more of an onion, and not a sunflower. what you mean by that, is that he had many layers to him, and he could not be pulled easily. if you wanted to peel the different pieces off of him, you had to work for it, but quite frankly you think you deserved a lot more than he had given you in the past couple of days.
you considered your body to be strong, but weak at the same time. you caught disease quite quickly such as colds, flu’s, and infections, but you also whooped its ass everytime. oddly enough, one of the things you looked forward to when you finally met your match was having someone to coo over your warm temperatures. a man who would surprise you with warm soups and extra blankets, who would also lay in bed with you no matter what was going on and give you kisses.
lee jihoon was not that man, which you knew, but you had no idea it would be this bad.
you were a mess - definitely not the prettiest sight you could conjure of yourself. you don’t remember the last time you saw your thick hair, which was never tamable on a good day, but especially for this past week had you just not been feeling any of your usual trials and tribulations of trying to figure out what to do with yourself. your bonnet had found itself halfway off your head from your tossing and turning through the night.
if you had the energy, you would crochet your hair. quick and easy timing, but also a cute look. jihoon also appreciated it on you, and you unfortunately lived to please him.
you weren’t dying at the moment, but you did have some concerning symptoms - a cough. so, symptom. of course your boyfriend did not bat an eye whatsoever for the past week as he scrambled through your home silently like the cute little mouse he was.
today is no different, but still your patience has completely ran thin. the penthouse you two shared was large enough so that whenever he wanted to hide from you, he could, and you knew that’s exactly what he was doing at this current moment.
when he finally walks into your shared bedroom ever so quietly, you can tell he was praying you were asleep.
“why are you hiding from me?” you question immediately. you don’t have much on, as you always got hot so easily. no shirt covered your body, just panties, but you and jihoon had been together so long that he was immune to your bare flesh. now that you think about it, you can’t remember the last time the two of you made any kind of love. luckily you didn’t need sex all the time in order to be satisfied, but jihoon wasn’t giving you anything at all.
“huh?” he responds quickly - proof you were right. you hated how cute he was, especially when he had what you referred to as his “morning puff”. he always had a chunky, sweet little face, but when he woke up from long nights in the studio, it was extra squishy and normally you would enjoy kissing all over his adorable face, but not today. you were upset.
“have you not heard me coughing for the past week?”
he turns to face you now. you’re sure he had a flashback to the many arguments where you begged him to look at you in your eyes. at least he cared about something you’ve said to him in the past.
“i have.” is all he says. that’s really all he has to say?
“and you haven’t done shit about it?”
“why are you cursing at me?”
“because I’m tired of the non-chalant attitude.”
he sighs out loud. that was his way of telling you he had better things to do. even so, he crawls on top of the bed and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“relax, baby.” he encourages. “what do you want? i’ll order your favorite.”
this is what you referred to as the attempt. a very poor one, but an attempt never the less.
would it be wrong of you to ask for something home made? would that make you selfish? all of the other girlfriends gagged about whenever any minor issues went on with them, how the boys would cater to their every need like they were the queen of the entire world or something. why didn’t jihoon treat you that way? was he too comfortable?
“y/n?” he speaks, knowing you completely ignored his question in exchange for what if’s.
“nevermind.” you mutter, laying back on your California king.
“don’t do that.” he sighs. he’s irritated with you for sure, but what do you care?
“do you even care?” you question. “like seriously?”
“if I didn’t care I wouldn’t be sitting in this house with you. and I just told you I would buy you whatever you want. i don’t know what more you want me to do.”
“i want you to act like my boyfriend of a million years. i want you to coddle me and give me kisses and offer to wash my hair.”
“in what world is anybody allowed to touch your hair?” he questions seriously as his eyebrows scrunch together in completely confusion and irritation.
“does it matter if I would say no?”
he chuckles, but not in a way where he thinks you’re cute. you’re only making the situation worse in his eyes. “do you want the food or not?”
“do you remember when we first started dating?” you stand up promptly, your thighs rubbing together as you get closer to him.
“y/n, why do you expect me to be the exact same way I was when I first met you?”
“why do people have this weird belief that once you start dating for a certain amount of years that love has to slow down?”
“so you’re saying I don’t love you?”
“i’m saying i have been clearly sick for the past week and all you’ve been is cooped up in your studio like a damn crack addict. what I’m saying is, we are in a relationship but you don’t even care to ask me am I okay. i’m not dating you to still feel like I’m alone!”
“you do realize the only person who pays bills in this nice little house is me right? how else can I do that if not ‘cooped up in my studio like a crack addict’” he quotes directly from you.
“do you realize that you’re the one who told me I didn’t have to pay a bill in this house?”
“whatever.”
he tries to walk away, but you know it’s only because he hates to argue, especially recently. it was something about it that really pained him.
“baby.” you lower your tone from all the unnecessary yelling. you touch his hand, but he snatches it away so hard that you flinch and fall to the ground. “baby...” you whisper faintly, hoping that he’ll care. for once in a long time will he just care. but he doesn’t. with his pajamas still on does he snatch his keys and walk straight out of your - well, his apartment. he slams the door too.
you honestly couldn’t recall how much time had passed since he departed from your home. usually when the two of you fought, you could easily find ways to distract yourself while also ignoring your mild heartbreak from his actions. but for some reason, this time, you couldn’t stop thinking this may have been the end.
that was usually the case when you felt like someone was falling out of love with you when you did absolutely nothing to deserve it.
you tried to listen to music. you tried to cook, but you sucked terribly at cooking Korean food and that’s all you had in your possession. you tried to sleep, but with everything running through your mind, that was impossible. so here you were, stuck with your thoughts.
you also still had the terribly annoying cough.
you didn’t have many friends here. the only people who checked on you were vernon, coups, and mingyu. you were expecting to get a call from one of them any second now.
like clock work, your phone is ringing. quite frankly you weren’t prepared to see Vernon’s name pop up on your phone simply because he was the one who called the least, but you didn’t mind. he always got you turnt whenever you were down, and even when you were fighting with woozi he didn’t suddenly treat you like you didn’t exist. he was always a neutral party.
“hello?” you say softly - your voice hoarse from the constant coughing you were doing.
“hey.” his voice speaks softly, “you alright?”
“yeah I’m fine, just not feeling my best. i have this annoying ass cough and it’s not going away and I’m also alone so, just fine.” you chuckle while burying yourself deeper into the bed if that was even possible.
“damn, you been smoking that good?”
“unlike you, I only smoke on special occasions vernon.”
“yeah whatever. how’s woozi? haven’t been able to get ahold of him.”
“he’s fine...I think. he’s been trying to hide from me but that’s been the norm lately if I’m being honest.”
“wait, you said you were alone.” vernon remembers, “we’ve been off all week where is your boyfriend?”
“you know...being himself.” you and vernon may have not spoke as much, but when you did talk to him, everything flowed out. every secret. it should be like this with woozi, but. “maybe it’s my fault.” you sigh, scratching your scalp from outside your bonnet, “i kind of...asked for a lot I guess.”
“like?”
“well, I’m not feeling well. i just felt upset because it seemed like he was purposely trying to avoid me so I wouldn’t have the chance to ask him to do anything for me. and the thing is, I wasn’t going to ask for anything but a lousy fucking hug - a cuddle. the bare minimum. i would have even taken a no but to be avoided? it hurt my feelings and we fought and—ugh. he stormed out the house and I have no idea where he is and I want to call him but truthfully what did I do wrong vernon? lately I’ve been feeling like I’m in a relationship with myself and I know we can be better than this. woozi used to be the sweetest little baby. he may have been hard to others, but he opened up for me. i feel shut out.”
you feel so much better getting all of that out, even though you know your boyfriend may have not appreciated the sentiment.
you know vernon listened to every single word and and would come back with some heartfelt advice.
“just give it time y/n. i can’t speak on jihoon like I am him, but if there’s one thing I know? it’s that you are the only person he truly loves that doesn’t share his bloodline. of course he loves us, but you - he opens up to you. he’s allowed you to see him. maybe there’s something going on. or maybe he just didn’t know what to do. just let him come back to you and see what happens.”
“thank you vernon. forreal.” you don’t know why his words affected you so much and made you feel such a heavy weight of guilt in the part where you held your boyfriend so deeply - your heart, but you did.
more hours had passed, and still no sign of woozi. you even tossed your pride away and called him, only to be sent straight to voicemail. you must have really irritated him, but you still didn’t feel sorry. you didn’t move your pride aside that much.
you did feel somber though, considering how much you loved him even through how he had been acting lately. and without him in your life, there was no reason for you to be here - in Korea. you didn’t want to end things. you just wanted to feel loved.
you still haven’t gotten out the bed except when you needed to pee. YouTube and funny clips had been keeping your company. maybe it was because of boredom, but things began to get darker and darker in your home. you were fading into a bitter sweet slumber. regardless, it’s what you needed. maybe your cough would subdue.
jihoon is quiet as a mouse as always when he walks inside, hands full of multiple things. all day had your words rang through his mind that was already full of so many things. had he really been making you feel so worthless? like you weren’t the most important person for his soul other than his family? actually, you were his family. there was never a day where he felt like he deserved you, but the minute the two of you kissed for the first time did he know that he would do whatever he had to, to keep you forever.
so when did he stop? he kind of knew he hadn’t been his best, but he didn’t know why. it was as if he was doing it on purpose, but not because of something you did. lately, it had just been so hard to keep up with everything in his life. all of the schedules seventeen had. and in between, as he was one of the frequent producers for the group, there were so many deadlines he had to meet he just felt so overwhelmed.
but he heard you coughing, and he was so worried. even so, he didn’t ask you what was wrong. why didn’t he ask you - his baby - what’s wrong? especially after it was day three and the cough was not improving? any other man who would practically rip his limbs off to be with you, would have been catering to your every need. they would have gave you all the kisses you needed, would have given you a full body massage, and offered to wash your hair even knowing that the answer was going to be no.
but he didn’t.
when he left, he was so angry. but not at you, at himself. vernon was the first person he called as he knew that while the two of you didn’t talk often, that he was the one who knew how to get your exact feelings. he hated how much of a wimp he sounded like when he had to bargain a song in exchange for vernon to call you. vernon declined and called you anyway.
to hear you on the phone, telling vernon that you felt as if you weren’t loved. feeling like you were in a relationship with yourself? that broke him. so, he called another one of his members who he knew would guide him into the right direction - mingyu.
“ill order everything, hyung. all you have to do is pick everything up. what you need to do right now, is practice your apology. oh, and pick up some cough medicine for her.”
so he did. his little body struggled to get everything inside, but he figured you would be asleep at this time. when you were bored, you had a tendency to doze off.
his instructions were to set everything up real nice on a table and serve it to you as if you were on a date, but woozi knew you better than that. he knew all you wanted to do was eat in bed and go right back to sleep. and talk.
he walks through the slim hallway that leads into your shared bedroom, and he was right. you were sleeping. the tv shined on your beautiful skin that he loved to place his cheek on whenever he felt any negative or positive emotion. he wasn’t sure what was on the tv. you probably weren’t either. you both loved to put on random movies and shows and talk about how much they sucked.
he approaches you gently - afraid that any little noise would startle you. he places everything on the fluffy sheets; the roses, your meal, your medicine, and the usb with the song he had been saving for you all lined up in orderly fashion. your bonnet is falling off your head as always, so he adjusts it. you had a pet peeve about that.
you were so beautiful. the most beautiful person he had ever met in his entire life. and you loved him. you - the brightest star in the galaxy and the sweetest soul chose him out of all of the people you had attempting to steal your heart. he couldn’t let another second go by without fixing this.
“baby.” he whispers. his thumb caresses your ear gently. he always wanted to be this guy. the hopeless romantic, always knew what to do guy, but girls never wanted him. he was always too short, too boring, all of the bad things. you never felt that way though. you always told him he was the perfect size for you. that he wasn’t boring, it was just that people never wanted to take the time to get to know him.
you moved slightly, but he knew he had just only scraped whatever dream you were currently in. he had to try a little harder to return you back to the world. his lips find themselves on your sweet face, just as you do to him every morning. little by little is he painting his love on you until you finally begin to stir.
“are you a murderer?” are the first words you speak.
you were always so hilarious, even without trying. he knew that was a genuine question no matter how funny the delivery was.
“no. i hope not.” he responds.
he can see you recognize his voice from the way you release the breathe he didn’t even know you were holding. woozi expected you to push him off you the minute you realized it was him, but you didn’t.
“hi baby.” you whisper, pulling him into you.
“hi baby.” he repeats, inhaling your sweet scent. it always made him feel like he was in heaven.
you pull back, cuffing his chubby face into his hands. if there was one thing about your fights with jihoon, it was that it wasn’t hard to make up. a simple look in each others eyes was enough to make up for everything. it was such a toxic trait, but it worked out.
“wait.” you breathe out as you notice everything behind your boyfriend. “ji...”
“it’s nothing, y/n.” he sighs, moving back so he can have a full view of you. “it’s what I should be giving you every fucking day. you are my queen. you are the only thing that is keeping me sane with this lifestyle.”
“everyday would drive even me crazy, ji.” you giggle, “you know that’s not what this is about. it’s just, I know how we used to be and I know how we are now. i don’t want us to get so comfortable with each other that we forget why we are together. you know that happened to my parents and I want to be with you forever.”
“i know.” all of sudden he feels it - the feeling he’s been feeling for the past couple of weeks whenever something bad happens. his whole body feels sick. he hasn’t told you about it because he thought it would go away, but it hasn’t. it seems as if this is going to be the worse one as it does involve the love of his life.
“hey.” you sit up, throwing one of his shirts that laid free on the bed. “what’s wrong babe? i’m here. i’m right here.”
you had never seen him like this before. you knew there was no such thing as a person who didn’t have internal issues, but this seemed like something that had been wanting to boil over for a while. you knew what severe anxiety looked like as you suffered from it. this was it.
“i don’t know, y/n.” he breathes out shakily. “this has been...happing lately.”
“why didn’t you tell me? hm?”
“i don’t know. i don’t know anything other than that I love you. and that I’m sorry.” he seems to be calming down from your touch. had he known this was all he needed, all the pain he suffered would have never taken place. he should have known though. you were his angel after all.
“we tell each other everything, baby.” you remind him as you begin to place gentle kisses onto his neck. “never forget that. there is nothing we can’t get through together.”
“i know.” is all he can say - your lips were too much of a distraction for him especially when he hasnt felt them in so long. he always craved you, but the two of you always took a lot of breaks. your relationship was much deeper than your love making no matter how addicted the two of you were to eachother.
you want to get right into it. you want to throw him on the bed, and ride every ounce of anxiety your boyfriend has right off, and then you want to eat your food, take your medicine, and drift into what you know will be the best sleep you’ve gotten in a while. but you two had to talk. everything needed to be squashed.
“ji, what can I do to fix this? i don’t like the way I’ve been feeling. and I know you don’t either.”
“you are perfect. you always have been. it’s me, but I promise I’ll do better. i’ll get everything under control.”
“you mean we will get everything under control. honestly baby, let’s not even use that terminology. we will learn to overcome this. anxiety is completely normal. you just can’t let it control you okay? and we have to communicate. don’t be afraid to show me any parts of you especially when you’ve seen my literal insides.” you joke, just to see his smile. he does, and it’s so bright. your foreheads lean into eachother immediately - natural just like your love.
“i love you.” he whispers.
“i love you.” you repeat. the two of you tried your best to not add too, to that sentence, as it meant in exchange for the other ones love and that’s not what was going on here. no matter what, the two of you loved each other. even if one stopped.
woozi goes back to buisness immediately, knowing you two were better now. his hands remove the covers that covered your body, and his tounge finds itself on your neck - his favorite place that’s not inside you.
“you feeling better?” he questions, still attacking you.
“i think this will distract me for a bit.” you giggle
“i’ll make it it all go away. you know I will.” are his final words before he lays on top of you, sliding his shirt off of your body with ease.
you were in for a long night. and the two of you still were in need of a conversation about what he was going through, but you knew what the both of you needed in this moment. you needed to feel each other again.
#seventeen#kpop black reader#kpop ambw#kpop poc#poc kpop#ambw kpop#woozi imagine#seventeen imagine#seventeen x poc reader#woozi angst#woozi fluff
340 notes
·
View notes
Note
What are your top 5 favorite angst moments in fics by other people
Thanks for resending the ask! The original one seems to be stuck in Tumblr limbo.
This was so hard. I literally just spent 45min going through my bookmarks and I could point you to some people's entire fic catalogues or entire fics without being able to pic a single scene in particular because they have so much delicious angst. (Yeah, I'm looking at you @aboutnothingness and @freddieofhearts and @i-lay-my-life-before-queen's Omegaverse Froger, or also @immistermercury's Jimercury ballet!Freddie epic and really several oneshots by some of my favourite authors in their entirety.)
But. I had to choose. So here are, in no particular order, some scenes:
---
Princes of the Universe by @tikiniki
Sci-fi AU. John saves Prince Freddie's life. 😰
Then, through the screams and gunfire, John heard Roger’s voice.
“John, Freddie! Watch out!”
And John spun around, just in time to see Roger throw himself towards Kassius, Kassius who had his gun raised and aimed at Freddie’s back.
His breath caught in John’s chest. Roger wouldn’t be fast enough.
He wasn’t.
The release of the bullet from Kassius’s gun disappeared in the rest of the noise. John acted on instinct.
He was barely conscious of moving at all. He barely noticed shoving Freddie to the side as hard as he could. He didn’t hear the surprised outcry leaving Freddie’s mouth.
But he felt it. Felt when the bullet pierced his chest.
The force of the bullet made him stumble back. He tried to draw a breath, tried to make a sound, but all was white-hot pain. The next second the guards were upon them. John was shoved in the chaos, his knees buckling beneath his weight.
Unable to catch himself, he fell over the edge of the pool.
Just before he breached the surface, he heard it.
The sound of voices crying out his name.
He smiled as he hit the water.
---
Aftercare by @bisexualroger
Freddie got mugged. 🥺
There’s an alien quality to the mirror, despite the fact that Freddie uses it every day and has done for months now. Perhaps it’s not the object itself that’s unfamiliar, but rather what it’s reflecting, the offending image subsequently contaminating the rest of the room with its strangeness. Lucky for him though; if the face in front of him registered as his own it might be too much for him to handle. Today’s been difficult enough without having to fully acknowledge the physical consequences of his earlier misfortune.
Freddie leans closer to the glass. The sight makes his lip tremble and his hands shake, but he swallows down his distress and reminds himself to view it objectively. It’s not his face, just a problem that needs to be fixed.
Taking another deep breath he tries again to go in with the cotton wool pad. Slippery with alcohol the cheap fabric desperately wants to slide out of his hand, but he keeps his grip steady as he brings it to his face. Immediately though the burning sting has him wincing. He tries to hold his nerve but the pain only intensifies, making his eyes prickle so he can no longer see what he’s doing. With a stifled cry of frustration he tosses the wool down into the sink and slides to the floor.
Once there his first instinct is to curl in on himself, but the pain in his ribs prevents him from doing so, which only makes matters worse. He’s been at this for fifteen bloody minutes, and much as he wants to shout and rage at the unfairness of it all his anger is infuriatingly manifesting itself through tears rather than determination. For goodness sake all he wants to do is have a hot shower and forget the entirety of this awful day, but he can’t until he’s dealt with this. It’s so agonisingly unjust.
---
The Path of Nevermore by @plainxte
Things are complicated. *sings* Give me one night only, one night only... 😭
"Yeah. I should probably head out," Roger said, looking around him. He was sure there was somewhere that he had promised to be that day.
"Please, Rog," Freddie said. "Don't go. Don't leave me alone. I mean. Don't send me to the path," Freddie said.
Roger turned to him with a smile. It quickly faded when he studied the look on Freddie's face: he was completely serious, and there was no hint of amusement in his eyes. He meant it, Roger realised. When Freddie said nothing more, just continued to look at him, it finally hit him what Freddie was saying. The seriousness of what he was asking.
"Of course I won't leave you," Roger whispered. "You know that. I wouldn't. But you know I can't, I can't – "
Freddie carefully lifted one hand, putting it hesitantly on his cheek, only just touching. His fingertips ghosted over Roger's cheekbone. "I know," he said. "And that's not what I meant. And I can't, either. But just for now. Please don't go. Please."
Roger took a breath. His thoughts were getting no clearer; if anything, his whole head seemed to be in a fog. He wasn't thinking; he couldn't think. He could only nod. Freddie leaned closer, and Roger closed his eyes. After what seemed like an age, he felt soft lips touch his. He reached up his own hand to Freddie's face, skimming over his jaw to come to a rest in his hair.
"And about time, too," he breathed.
---
Sobering Up by... oh whoops, it seems their tumblr was deleted or changed names. Well, nevermind, I still love this fic so much.
Roger and Freddie don't know how to deal. 💔
They lie there afterwards, stewing in a pregnant silence. Normally, sex put Roger right to sleep but this… he was unable to wrap his head around any of it.
He rolled over to lie on his stomach away from Freddie. He took a pillow and clenched it tightly in his arms, pressing his face deeply into it. Some animal instinct was telling him if he squeezed hard enough then the painful sickening swirl of emotions in his chest might ebb away.
Freddie softly cleared his throat. “Rog,”
“Hm?” Roger feigned sleepiness. He didn’t feel like having any kind of pillow talk.
“What…” Freddie faltered. “What do you think the future has in store for us?” Roger felt his heart seize up.
“What’d you mean ‘us’?” His voice was muffled in his pillow, but it didn’t mask the cracking on the last syllable. He heard Freddie make a sharp intake of breath.
“Queen.” He said. “What do you think we’ll be like in the future? D’you think we’ll make it?”
Roger was quiet at first. Freddie wasn’t the type to avoid the elephant in the room like this.
“Dunno,” Roger sighed, still clinging tightly to his pillow. “But I won’t stick around if there are better places to be.”
“Are there better places to be?” Freddie’s feigned curiosity did nothing to hide the anxiety in his voice. And it dawned on Roger that they weren’t going to talk about the sex. They were never going to talk about it. It had happened and that was all. It was too big, much too big, for either of them to face. This was Freddie’s way of asking if Roger was okay with that.
Roger didn’t exactly feel relief at this revelation. Somehow he felt like he had given Freddie a much more intimate part of himself than he had given any other partner. And the seriousness of that weighed heavily on him. Nothing would be the same for him again. But it had to be.
---
On the side of a hill, a sprinkling of leaves by @quirkysubject
Freddie falls in a puddle and can't get up (also this scene is way too long to quote all of it, but like THIS WHOLE SCENE MAN 😭💕)
“Jesus, Fred, are you alright?” Hands are on his back, his shoulders, trying to urge him up. Oh, how Freddie wishes Roger would just leave him alone (liar, the warm and tiny and inextinguishable gleam of hope inside him whispers).
“Fine,” he mumbles as he lies face down in the mud, waiting, praying for the earth to swallow him up.
“Freddie, come on, get up.” The hands tug a little harder. And then, when Freddie just shakes his head, Roger’s hands slide under his armpits, and he is hauled upright with a frustrated, “What the hell’s the matter with you?”
It’s this that does it. All ability to contain himself evaporates.
“I hate this so much!”
The words explode out of him. He can hear how his voice sounds, shrill, pathetic, whiny. Useless. But he can’t stop himself. “I hate everything about this. My ankle hurts and my arm hurts and I want proper tea with milk, and a bath, and my bed, and Tom and Jerry, and a slice of toast that is actually toasted and I… I just want to go home.”
It’s a small mercy that he can blame any wetness on his cheeks on the rain. Not that it will do him much good. He is throwing a tantrum at the worst possible moment, and Roger is going to do what he always does when Freddie is being unreasonable - walk out, have a smoke, come back an hour or two later when the storm has blown over.
Only if he leaves now, Freddie will melt into the ground and never come up again.
---
A special mention goes to a Doctor Who fic which is probably my favourite angsty fic of all time, because even though I'm not active in the Who fandom right now, I'm still Doctor/Master trash. And Locked in Orbit by @nicolauda (I think this is yours? Correct me if wrong) is one of the best goddamn pieces of writing with that ship that exist for me.
15 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello there, if you get inspiration from this quote “Oh screw beautiful! I’m brilliant! If you want to appease me, compliment my brain.” with Poe please :) congrats!!
Warning: Sexual references. Sexism.
GIF credit: I have no idea, but it’s not mine. If anyone knows whose it is, please let me know!
You were one of the top behind the scenes people in the entire Resistance.
No one could match your ability when it came to planning and calculating what you would need for a successful attack on the First Order.
Most of your praise, however, was from all the other women who ranked below you or above you or worked alongside you or simply had different, as important careers than you did.
Men thought you were really cute; they thought you to be someone who was playing along with the boys simply because what was beneath the trousers of your uniform wasn’t beneath theirs and that somehow made them more capable or something.
There were many times you’d watched male pilots and other officers congratulate the men on your team rather than you, even if you had done all the work putting together their successful plan.
Then they’d somehow look down at you whether they were taller or not and ask if you wanted to grab a drink at the cantina to ‘celebrate’ which really meant to have sex with them.
Who would turn down the chance at riding some hotshot pilot who’d defeated six TIEs on their own?
You would.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to find a partner who you could have sex with, but why accept a fling with a man who thought you were stupid simply to not be alone in your bed for a minute?
You’d roll your eyes when one of them would proposition you and tell them you didn’t have the time to drink with them.
But for some reason, none of them understood that a woman turning them down meant she was turning them down and you’d probably denied half of them twice already.
They were back at base from yet another successful mission, all of them in the command center yelling and whooping and asking girls for drinks and some of them glancing your way.
You kept your eyes on your work station when one of the taller, blonder pilots stopped next to you, huffing at the man splaying his hand across your screen to make you look up at him.
“You’re such a pretty, quiet girl. Why don’t you come with me for a couple of drinks and we’ll see how loud you are, beautiful?”
It was probably the thousandth time you’d heard a line like that and you snapped, standing up quickly enough that the man stumbled back.
“Oh, screw beautiful! I’m brilliant! If you want to appease me, compliment my brain.”
You were certainly loud, but it evidently wasn’t what he wanted since he and everyone else in the room was staring at you — some looking dumbstruck and a couple of your female colleagues who understood the frustration of being reduced to their looks smirking at you.
You were far too angry to stay in a room with any of these pilots, storming into the hallway as you muttered under your breath about being a pretty, quiet girl.
When you rounded the corner and nearly bumped into Poe Dameron himself, you immediately stepped back and looked up at him respectfully.
He was your superior in a way, unlike those kriffing nerfherders.
“Commander Dameron, I’m sorry.”
“No, no, you’re fine— oh, hey! It’s you!”
You must have made a face since his eyebrow raised questioningly, assuming he recognized you as someone he might be able to seduce like the rest of those pilots.
He smiled and shook his head anyway, gesturing to a symbol on your uniform.
“Tillo said they weren’t going to send him as backup for us until one of the higher up strategists suggested it,” he said and you nodded slightly.
“Yes, I had to fight to put him up there with you because no one thought he was needed, but I was sure by my calculations based on the amount of people you’d likely be against that you would need the extra hand.” Your spoke this easily, pleased to talk about something you worked on.
“We were almost outnumbered a couple of times, but he always shot down whatever TIE was about to shoot one of us.”
“I’m glad they listened to me.”
He nodded, smiling at you charmingly though he didn’t seem to be attempting to charm you. “Sure wish I had someone smart like you to talk to over the comms instead of those idiots.”
You were planning to politely leave the conversation and go rant to yourself in your quarters, but you stopped and stared at him with wide, thankful eyes.
Then you moved onto your toes and leaned forward to kiss him firmly on the lips.
It was a kiss that he apparently did not think of since he sort of flailed a little bit, not even kissing you back fully and staring at you when you sheepishly pulled away.
You were only a little sheepish, though, and a little giddy from his compliment, not really caring that you’d kissed a commander. “Thanks for not calling me pretty.”
He furrowed his brow and tilted his head, grinning widely.
“I mean, you are pretty, but that smart thinking of yours is what made this mission a successful one. Can I, uh, kiss you again? I don’t want you to think I’m the type of guy who doesn’t kiss back. I’m totally not.” Where you might have told a man you weren’t interested, you only smiled at this particular man who considered your mind before ever considering your looks.
“Go ahead.” He was the type of partner you had in mind when denying the ones who wanted a quick, meaningless affair.
Poe leaned in and kissed you gently, more to show you he was good at kissing rather than to take advantage of you in any way.
And, should he truly be interested in you and your brain beyond a couple little kisses, you were going to file this with all the rest of your many smart decisions.
174 notes
·
View notes
Text
you showed me faith is not blind (miracles happen)
Pairing: Alex/Willie Words: 5,251 Rating: T Chapter Warnings: homophobia Chapter: 6/11 read on AO3
Chapter Summary: The sun has already set by the time they get back to the car and with a glance at his phone he sees two things. First, that it's already half past six and second, that he has… a lot of missed calls and texts.
"Oh," he says, before he even buckles his seatbelt. "Is the group harassing you too?"
Willie glances over at him with a confused look and then pulls out his phone. "Whoa, yeah. Wonder what that's about."
(*)
The sun has already set by the time they get back to the car and with a glance at his phone he sees two things. First, that it's already half past six and second, that he has… a lot of missed calls and texts.
"Oh," he says, before he even buckles his seatbelt. "Is the group harassing you too?"
Willie glances over at him with a confused look and then pulls out his phone. "Whoa, yeah. Wonder what that's about."
In skimming through the messages, Alex gets the gist of it—Luke is sorry, the group is worried about him, and after a while, they start to get worried about Willie as well. Before Alex can answer any of them, Willie has already sent the group text a message explaining that they were on a hike and hadn't looked at their phones. Within seconds, a message from each person in their group arrives, all variations telling them to come to the studio. Willie's eyebrows go up. He looks at Alex. "You up for it?"
Alex isn't sure if he is or not, but they're his best friends and he knows Luke is probably having a melt down, so he nods. Ten minutes later, Willie is pulling into the Molina's driveway. Reggie comes bouncing out of the garage, drumming his hands on the hood of Willie's car, and the two of them laugh as they unbuckle and get out.
"Hey, guys!" Reggie yells.
"Hey, man," Willie greets, walking towards him and tossing an arm around Reggie's shoulders, dragging him towards the studio, hurrying along fast enough that Reggie has to stumble to keep up. They're laughing as they go and Alex smiles as he watches. He follows behind them at a slower pace, so when he gets in the studio, Willie has let go of Reggie and is saying hi to the other three already. Alex looks from Flynn to Julie and then his eyes land on Luke, who is staring at him. He's sunken into the couch, eyes round and just on this side of miserable.
It's now going on seven hours since they've seen each other, and Alex knows the majority of that time, Luke has understood that Alex has no plans of leaving the band. And, well, Luke's first thoughts might always be music, but he also does genuinely care about people too. That's especially true for his band—for Alex, Reggie, and Julie. Alex knows that Luke is feeling guilty about the whole thing. He knows that the entire thing is behind them now, that Luke knows he's staying, that Luke knows Alex prioritizes the band too.
… He also knows that the band wasn't the only reason Luke was upset earlier.
Alex knows Luke. They haven't made it through eleven years of friendship on sheer luck.
"It's okay, dude," Alex says.
Luke laughs but it's not all there. "I'm still sorry."
"I didn't tell you guys, so. I'm sorry too."
"Yeah, well, I'll forgive you if you say hi to William and Harry for me," Flynn says from where she's lounging.
"Yes!" Willie whoops pumping his arms and twirling around.
Alex shakes his head. "Uh-uh. She didn't—"
"She called you Prince Charming at lunch," Reggie tells him.
"Oh. Well." Alex brings a hand up and scratches behind his ear, and looks at Flynn. "Thanks for that."
"Any time," she smirks.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Luke asks, and there it is. The other reason Luke had been upset.
Because, well. If the band had been Luke's only concern, it likely would have ended in an argument at lunch, then and there. Luke was passionate about music and he fought for what he was passionate about. But him storming away today? That wasn't out of passion. That was out of pain. He had been hurt that Alex hadn't told him, had been hurt that there was something about Alex that he didn't know. After all, Luke had been Alex's person for years. He was the first person that Alex came out to, the first person he turned to after a fight with his parents, the first person he went to for help. But that has changed lately. Since Luke got with Julie and since Alex's feelings for Willie developed further, the two of them had different people now. It wasn't that they were any less close—not at all. They still told each other everything. They just weren't always the first to know, not anymore. But this… Luke hadn't known this at all.
"I… I didn't want you to know," he admits while he stares at the ground, unable to see Luke's face as he admits this. "I barely wanted to know about it. I mean, this lady shows up and tells me I'm a prince and that I've gotta learn how to act like one and learn the history and politics and culture of another country and—I didn't want to think about it, man. And I knew telling you guys would make it more… real. I didn't know if you guys would think it was funny or if you'd think it was weird. And—and even if we didn't talk about it you'd still know and I'd still know you knew and I'd be wondering what you were thinking so then I'd wanna talk about it not to talk about it but to find out your thoughts and… it didn't have anything to do with you guys. I was just… I didn't know how to deal with it. I don't know how to deal with it. So I just… didn't."
"You told Willie," Flynn points out with a raised eyebrow. Alex kind of wants to fight her right now because he's trying to fix things with Luke, Flynn but he sees that Luke's shoulders are more relaxed now, so he thinks he's in the clear.
"I… I needed to talk to someone. And Willie—Willie—"
"What they have is stronger," Reggie quotes Willie from earlier. Everyone immediately 'ooohs'.
Earlier, it was a joke. Earlier, it was Willie teasing Reggie. Earlier, it was wishful thinking.
Now?
Now Alex has to turn his eyes to the floor because he's scared his burning face is going to give him away and maybe Willie doesn't want that and—
Something grabs his hand. He jumps and looks down at his hand to see another hand in his. He follows the hand up, up the arm, over the shoulder, landing on the face of Willie. He's got a small smirk on, but he tilts his head to the side and bounces his eyebrows. Alex understands the question in the movements and turns towards him. Willie takes that as the answer he needs and brings his hand up to curl around Alex's neck and draws him in for a short, heartfelt kiss. The 'oohs' change to 'oh my gods' and Willie and Alex have to break apart because Alex starts laughing at Luke's high-pitched screech. Willie doesn't let go of his neck but he steps away. The smile one Willie's face is blinding and Alex is willing to bet his matches.
"Dudes, I thought that was a joke!" Reggie yells.
"It was," Willie tells him, stroking the side of Alex's neck with a gentle thumb. "At lunch, anyway."
Their friends all start talking over one another and Alex laughs, moving with Willie to take a seat on the ground. When Julie demands to know how it happened, Willie smirks. "We went on a hike, screamed a bit, and then Alex told me how he felt and I kissed him."
"Alex made the first move?" Luke asks, disbelieving.
"Hey," Alex frowns.
"No offense bro, but we've been waiting for years now and you haven't done shit. Excuse me for my surprise."
"You were friends with Julie for three and a half years before you made a move, I did it in two."
"Yeah well you've liked Willie since kindergarten," Reggie says.
Alex dives across Willie's lap to smack Reggie. "I didn't even know him in kindergarten!"
"But longer than ninth grade, at least," Luke says confidently. "Longer than two years."
Alex's face goes up in flames and he stares at the ground. He can see Willie looking at him out of the corner of his eye. "I didn't even know him though, thinking he's cute doesn't count."
"How long have you liked Alex, Willie?" Reggie asks. Oh, god. Alex doesn't want to know. It's going to make him sound so much more pathetic.
Alex turns his head in time to see Willie look at Reggie and shrug. "A long time. Before I even really knew him I thought he was cute. Thank god he turned out to actually be as interesting as I had hyped him up to be."
"Really?" Alex asks, feeling his heart rate speed up. Hyped up? Willie had thought about him enough before they knew each other to have expectations?
Willie turns to him. Alex must have his anxiety written all over his face because Willie's eyes go soft and he smiles. "Yeah. The day I ran into you on the beach? With the hot dogs? I was actually looking for you. I'd seen you there already that day and I wanted to see you again, so I wasn't really paying attention to where I was skating because I was focused on trying to find you." He hums and knocks their shoulders together. "I did."
Oh.
"O… kay," Alex says, looking down at his hands and picking at the side of his thumb. He'd figured out what his feelings for Willie were in the sixth grade, and even at that age he knew that boys liking boys wasn't the majority. So he didn't hold out hope of Willie liking him back, even if sometimes his mind did like to pretend back then. When Willie came out to them when Alex was in ninth grade, Alex had already gone three years thinking (knowing) that there was no way that Willie could like him back. But then in the few months of knowing Willie, Alex had come to realize that Willie was just entirely too good for Alex. In ninth grade, learning Willie liked boys didn't change Alex thinking (knowing) Willie couldn't like him, even if sometimes he did like to hope. It just became for a different reason. So hearing that Willie had liked him, and for 'a long time'… Alex wasn't sure what to do with that information.
He doesn't get too long to contemplate it (beyond the thought of 'what took us so long then?') because after the group throws a few more questions at Willie, they turn their attention to Alex.
"So what have you really been doing after school? With the prince stuff?" Reggie wonders.
"I really have been with my grandma. She's, uh… the Queen of Beasiga by the way. We're just… I call them prince lessons." Everyone laughs. Alex smiles. "They're… It's like etiquette lessons mixed with Beasiga lessons—history, politics, government, culture, economy—mixed with world politics lessons mixed with foreign language lessons."
"And… you do this on top of school?" Julie frowns, her face clearly concerned for Alex.
He nods. "Yeah, but my grandma is really considerate of my time. She even helps me with my history and econ homework most days and gives me extra information."
"What kind of things do you do?" Luke wonders.
"Well, most nights I eat dinner over there, right? But apparently my posture sucks so they tie me to my chair." The entire group laughs again and Alex laughs with them. "It's also just… a lot of studying. Uh… Let's see… Beasiga began by a charter during a war between its two neighboring countries in 1634 and formed into a country in 1715. They're a constitutional monarchy with a two-party system. Over half of their GDP can be accounted for through tourism. They haven't been involved in a war since the 1810s. They got rid of their army in the 1880s and signed treaties with other countries for foreign protection. Uh…" he looks at his friends, who he realizes asked what he did—not what he learned. "Um. I'm learning how to… carry myself? like a prince. We're working on emotional intelligence this week. Things like self-awareness and empathy and interacting with others. There's some dancing? Not the fun kind, though. Ballroom dancing."
They carry on like this until it's quarter until eight, at which point Alex can't ignore the hunger pangs in his stomach. He promises to discuss it more with them tomorrow if they want, or that they can text him if they have any pressing questions, and then he and Willie take their leave.
He expects that to be the end of a stress filled day, but when they pull up to Alex's house, one of the Beasigan limos is parked on the street out front.
"I would offer to let you come in since we haven't actually eaten dinner," Alex murmurs as Willie turns in the driveway, "but I have no idea what's going on inside. I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Willie says. He reaches over and twines their fingers together and squeezes. Alex looks over at Willie. Willie smiles and leans in. They'd kissed a few more times on the hike, and then the once at Julie's, so it feels natural now for Alex to meet Willie half way. They keep the kiss short—they're in a car outside of his house and his family is inside, and they don't know he's gay, so. Plus, something royal might be happening inside if the limo is anything to go by, so it's not the time to be pushing even if he wants to. Willie is the first to pull away (Alex thinks it's probably because he's the one with better self-control) and when he leans back in his seat he lets go of Alex's hand and smiles. "You should get inside. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"
"Uh, yeah," Alex says. He sends one last look at Willie, says bye one last time, and then grabs his bag and gets out of the car. Willie waits in his driveway until Alex has unlocked his door and is inside, and then he backs out of the driveway and drives off. Alex closes the door behind him, dropping his backpack on top of the shoes he has just toed off, and wanders into his house. "Mom? Dad?" he calls.
"In here," his dad calls from the dining room.
He follows the voice through the rooms of the house until he's standing in the entrance of the dining room where he finds his parents, his siblings, his grandmother, and John sitting around their expanded dining room table. They all have plates in front of them, either empty or nearly empty. It looks like Chinese and Alex takes a moment to be surprised that his grandmother would eat take away Chinese food. Then he realizes she probably didn't plan her visit, and they had to order take out, and Chinese was a better option than pizza. "Hey," he says. The group all calls out a greeting.
"Alexander," his grandmother says. "We were just discussing the events of today and ideas for security going forward. We're going to see how the next few days play out and go from there."
"Sounds good," he says. "Is there any more of that? I haven't eaten."
"Yes, in the kitchen," his mom nods towards the kitchen, and Alex goes at once to make himself a plate. He's back, taking a seat at the table next to John after a minute, and bites his lip. "Mom, Dad, Grandma? Can I talk with you before Grandma leaves tonight?"
His grandmother looks at the clock on the wall. "It's getting quite late. Will it take long?"
"Uh… no. No. Just—"
John clears his throat and excuses himself from the room, clearing all the empty plates. He takes them through to the kitchen and turns on the sink to start rinsing them off.
"Ava, Austin," his mom calls, getting his siblings' attention. "Why don't you two go to your rooms? You each get half an hour of Switch time."
No more needed to be said—they were out of their seats and running out of the room as soon as she said the word 'Switch.' Alex snorts, and looks down at his full plate of food. He debates taking a bite because he's absolutely starving, but he'd rather not be talking with his mouth full for this.
"So—with this news thing, there's going to be rumors, right?"
"We'll take care of all of those," his grandmother says, shaking her head. "You don't need to worry."
"Well—I. I'm not overly worried. I mean, rumors are rumors, right? You can just prove them false, right? Someone says I do drugs, I take a drug test. Someone says I'm not really my father's son, you guys have the paternity test," he says. "I'm not really worried. And like, I'm not really worried about what I'm about to say either because there's not really any malicious people at my school, even if there are rumors about me. I don't think anyone would go to any news source and talk about those rumors either, especially because they only know them to be rumors. The chances of this getting out are slim to none. But, I'm sixteen and—and—" and Willie "—and I've been learning a lot in prince lessons. And part of that is confidence. And part of confidence for me is being brave, which… I have, historically, not been. But today I was. And—I'm trying to be right now? It's harder. It's always harder in the moment. But—well, yeah, I'm gay."
Alex wants to make some astute observation about the silence that follows his declaration, but he can't, because it only lasts a second or two. Rather than stretching on like he thought it would, it breaks quickly because his grandmother smiles and says, "why, Alexander, thank you for telling us."
Alex looks at her, head turning a little too quick for his neck's liking and blinks. "You—you're okay with this?"
"Well, why wouldn't I be?"
"I don't know, I just. Well, not everyone is. And I thought you—"
"Now that the world knows you are a prince, I was going to invite you to a dinner we're having at the consulate next Thursday," his grandmother says, and Alex closes his mouth from where it was formed around his next word, confused at the sudden subject change. "It's a very important dinner and many members of our government will be there. Perhaps you can meet our Prime Minister, Jeffry Marley. And his husband."
Alex feels like something in the air has changed.
Beasiga's Prime Minister is gay? Is openly married to a man?
He blinks, looks down at his plate again, but he's not really hungry anymore. He thinks. One of his biggest hold ups about being Prince of Beasiga was the fact that he was gay. He didn't think that he could be Prince due to his sexuality, or at least didn't think the people would accept him because of it.
The monarch—his grandmother—appoints the Prime Minister, not the people, so… "And how do the people feel about Jeffry?"
"Oh, wonderfully," his grandmother waves him off, as if him asking is a ridiculous question. "We were among the first to legalize same-sex marriage—it has been legal in Beasiga since 2005. Our citizens are plenty happy with our leaders, and they would be plenty happy with you, as well."
That… That's…
Alex can't think about that right now.
He turns to his parents. "Mom, Dad?"
His dad is staring at the table and nods at him in acknowledgement, and his mom is looking at him with a smile, but he knows her well enough to know that it's not… it's not a smile. His stomach sinks. "Of course you know we love you, sweetie," she says. He's not sure if his grandmother can hear the tension in her voice, or if it's something that takes years to tune into. But he can hear it. "Thank you for telling us."
"Yeah, of course," he says, but the building good mood he had a minute ago has gone to shit with their dismissal.
"Well, then," his grandmother says, noticing the souring of the mood. "I think it's time for John and I to go. Alexander, I trust I'll see you tomorrow, all well? … after the day you've had?"
He blinks. He's pretty sure she's asking if he's safe to be left here. "Yeah. I'll be there tomorrow, fine and ready to learn about Beasiga in the 1700s."
"Good, I'm glad. Well…"
"I'll show you out," his dad says, standing up from the table and walking towards the kitchen to where John was, not sparing a glance in Alex's direction.
"I will see you tomorrow, Alexander," his grandmother says before following his dad.
"Yeah, see you tomorrow," he calls back. When she's gone, he finally takes a bite of his food, but there's no taste to it, which is shocking for the fact that it's Chinese food and Chinese food is always flavorful. He doesn't think it's an issue with the food, but instead his brain. His stomach needs food though, so he shovels it in, bite after bite, not stopping even as he hears the front door open and close, even as he hears the doors of the car outside open and close, and not even as he hears his dad slam the bedroom door. Alex sees him mom flinch at that last one and sighs. "You wanna go join him? Slam some bathroom cabinets closed to get some of that anger out while you're at it?"
Her head snaps up and she looks at him. "I'm not—I'm not angry."
Alex scoffs. "Sure."
"I'm not!"
"Right," Alex nods. "You're not angry. He is. You're disappointed."
She opens her mouth, leaning forward, ready to say something, and Alex braces himself, but the words never come. She falls back into her seat. She mumbles something under her breath that Alex doesn't quite catch and he frowns.
"What?"
She furrows her eyebrows together. "It's all going wrong," she repeats. Alex reels back, stunned. She barely takes notice, barreling on. "Thing after thing in your life, it all just keeps piling on and I don't know when it's going to stop. When you were in seventh grade you loved math and science and you wanted to be like Mike, do you remember? We started planning for Stanford or Yale or, hell, even Berkeley if you couldn't get into one of those. But then you got more serious about the drums. And then… then you and your friends made that band. And you got into Los Feliz, so how could we say no? It's still a top school. But then you started talking about gigs and tours and albums and… Alex, you've done great with the band, really. So we thought—maybe you'd put college on hold for a few years to pursue your music, but then you'd go back." She nods to herself assuredly, and looks up at the ceiling, drawing in a deep breath. "And then your dad dies. Not having had any other children, leaving you the heir to the throne of Beasiga. Something he and I had every intention to avoid for you, because I… I didn't want you growing up in that life. I didn't want you growing into that life. Into a prince and then a king who would be all about a country and not about himself and have no room to live your own life. And then that man has to show up claiming his right to the throne, so your grandmother has to contact you early. Throws off your entire junior year. It puts you in a position where you have to choose if you actually want to be prince or not. You're not mature enough to make that choice! You just got your driver's license this summer. And now—now you won't even get a normal family."
Alex stares across the table at his mom, completely unsure of what to say. There's a lot to unpack there, and there's a lot that he wants to argue with her on. He's about to start when—"What do you mean a man showed up wanting the throne?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, what are you talking about? You said something about a man claiming a right to the throne," Alex reminds her. "What was that about?"
"Oh," his mom says. "I'm not sure if I'm meant to tell you about that if you don't already know."
"Well I know now, so tell me."
She looks at him and sighs. "There's a man in Beasiga who, if you renounce your claim, is next in line for the throne. I don't know much about him, but he's… pushy, and he's been pressing your grandmother about you. It's why she decided to tell you before your eighteenth birthday."
"Do you know his name?"
"Covington, I think," she says. "Why is this so important?"
Well. That's a good question. "I just think I deserve to know these things," he makes up. "You guys hid enough from me for sixteen years." This is something he needs to think more on, though. He stands up from the table and carries his plate towards the kitchen. When he's at the exit of the dining room, he turns back to his mom. "By the way, mom. I will get to have a normal family. Unless I choose to become prince. Then, only then, maybe my normal will be a little different." He moves to the sink to rinse off his plate, not bothering to give his mom time to answer.
It's when he's rinsing the sauce and rice off the plate that he starts to think about what really just happened. Coming out to his parents and grandmother, finding out the country he could potentially be prince of is pretty fucking progressive and would accept him, being all but shut down by his parents, finding out that there was someone ready to take the throne should he step down, and then—
Unless I choose to become prince.
He didn't say that for his mom's benefit.
He slots his plate into the dishwasher and grabs his backpack from by the front door, then makes his way to his room. He closes the door behind him and moves to his bed, falling down on it and pulling out his unfinished homework so he can complete it.
Unless I choose to become prince.
Where the fuck did that come from?
Okay, yeah, being gay was one of his biggest arguments against accepting his role as prince. Before tonight, he never could have dreamed of it. Before tonight, he couldn't even come out to his parents, how was he expected to come out to an entire country? But… but after tonight… He came out to his parents. And his parents didn't react well. And Alex—he's anxious, yeah, but he's not panicking. And Beasiga is apparently a lot more accepting than Alex's parents, so coming out to that country isn't as scary anymore. Hell, coming out to the world isn't as scary anymore—his parents are the ones in a position of power over Alex, at least immediately, and they're just quiet, angry, and disappointed.
Did Beasiga's progressive views really change his stance on being a prince that much?
No, he doesn't think so.
Covington was also a factor.
Sure, Alex doesn't know much about the man—doesn't know anything about the man—but if his grandmother felt pressured by anyone, well, that can never be a good sign. He's gotten to know her quite well over the past couple of weeks and she's not one to back down. She'd gotten into an argument with him over his own lyrics and refused to accept his word when he pulled the 'I wrote the song' card. Alex knows it's not just that he is easy to go up against, because he's seen her in meetings with diplomats from other countries. She's like the goddess of reasoning Athena—but her reasoning isn't actual reasoning, it's just an impossibility to argue against her. So someone forcing her hand… Well, Alex feels threatened. There's no way this Covington man can be a good person, and he suspects that's why his grandmother had come on so strongly at first. She's scared for her country.
Is that enough for Alex, though?
He's thinking about it now, he admits that much. He can't stop thinking about it. The thing is: the prince lessons are working. He can not only eat with correct posture and the correct utensils at a meal now, but he's also learning more and more about Beasiga and its history and is genuinely enjoying his time doing so. He's noticed his confidence has gone up. He's even started speaking with a different cadence to his voice. The care he has for the Beasigan people he's heard and read about and had the opportunity to meet and talk to is overwhelming and he wants to be a part of their lives, wants to improve their lives. He has ideas to improve their lives, good ones that his grandmother has heard and approved of. All the things his grandmother is trying to instill in him are showing up, but there are still two very obvious issues.
Number one: he's in a band. He can't leave that band. He literally just promised that band he would not be leaving them. He doesn't want to leave the band. He loves playing the drums, loves singing, loves making music with his friends. Wednesdays and Saturdays are the best days of the week and he could never dream of giving those up.
Number two: two and a half weeks ago he stood in front of a room of twenty students to give a speech and nearly passed out as a result. Public speaking is still a part of being a prince, and being in front of crowds is still a thing that he can't do. Of course, now that he's actually listened to Julie, he knows it's more the whole… attention thing when he's alone, not the speaking thing, but. Being a public figure involves attention.
He supposes he can bring it up with his therapist—after all, he sees her tomorrow afternoon—and see if she has any suggestions about overcoming that, but…
Why is he thinking about this?
What changed so drastically from this afternoon at lunch, when he was positive in telling Reggie that he'd made his mind up, to now, when he was considering asking his therapist for tips to help him so he could maybe be a prince? What made him go from scoffing at the idea of ruling a country to figuring out ways to make it possible? Why was he considering taking such a huge leap in his decision all of the sudden?
And then he remembered.
The lock.
The lock that broke somewhere inside him today.
He's not sure what the hell it had been holding back, but whatever it was is open and free now and Alex isn't sure if he's scared or excited about that.The sun has already set by the time they get back to the car and with a glance at his phone he sees two things. First, that it's already half past six and second, that he has… a lot of missed calls and texts."Oh," he says, before he even buckles his seatbelt. "Is the group harassing you too?"Willie glances over at him with a confused look and then pulls out his phone. "Whoa, yeah. Wonder what that's about."
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
It’s The Avengers (03x05)
Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)
Season 3 Episode 05: Oh no! My Insecurities!
Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.
Warnings: one those tropes. one of those sexy sexy tropes
Word Count: what is the science behind wanting to eat so much junk when one has money to spare? I would really like to know so that I can ask my brain how it work without it for sooooo long and then one day decided to go batchit crazy. Maybe I was eating away my insecurities. But then again, when I was anxious I lost weight like anything because I just cuold not bring myself to freaking eat! What is it body and brain?! What makes you crave that dirty dirty foood! *gollum’s voice* tell me you filthy animal!
MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)
Tony stood in the kitchenette in front of a mixer, adding in a variety of green vegetables present in front of him, a tune on his lips in the form of a whistle that only stopped when he crossed eyes with the camera.
“Oh, hi! Didn’t see you there! I’m just here making myself an amazing green smoothie. Good for the heart and the head.”
Tony took in a lungful and turned the mixer on with a satisfied sigh leaving him. “What a beautiful day, isn’t it?”
The camera panned out to watch Vision walking into the Lounge, a blank expression painted on his face as he tilted his head to watch Tony at work. “You seem quite chirpy today,” he stated the obvious.
“I am. I have made quite the progress in my therapy and I am beginning to feel so much lighter than I was ever before. Letting go of stuff that worries me, you know. Aah, it feels good to not care about a thing in the world.”
The camera settled on Vision’s face. He blinked and tried to furrow his brows as he had seen everyone else around him do. “So, you no longer care about Y/N?”
The mixer was turned off and the container opened to pour the contents into a glass. Tony chuckled. “Y/N will be fine. Loki is there with her. Carol will be meeting them soon enough. I don’t have to worry about much. I’ll look at the footage once I get time from my mini-vacay I’ll be taking in our backyard. You should come too.”
Vision straightened his head and nodded. “I would love to,” he acknowledged the invitation while taking his potion of the green juice offered by Stark, “and I have to say Barton’s worries were wrong about you.”
“What worries?” Tony asked, a bit disinterested, taking a sip of his smoothie.
“That you would, and I quote, ‘go apeshit when you find out that Y/N dawned the role of Dominatrix seducing Loki to help him escape the clutches of a space sex slave trafficker.”
The glass went away from his lips with one smooth movement of his arms. “Say what now?”
Vision had already drained the glass. “He was referring to the whorehouse they escaped from yesterday. Y/N has quite the talent when it comes to weakening the guards of the male of many space creatures. It is quite extraordinary to witness someone so guarded and introverted like her completely expose her-”
His words are halted by the sound of glass breaking. The camera panned out to watch wide-eyed, visibly in shock Tony looking into a void before turning to meet Vision’s gaze.
“Oh shoot. I accidentally let the glass slip from my hands. Butterfingers,” Tony lied. Like a liar. “Don’t worry, you go ahead. I’ll clean it up.”
A natural shade of worry came over Vision’s face, silently staring at the shattered glass and Tony for a few seconds before seemingly coming to terms with it. “...okay. As I was saying, Y/N has quite the talent when it comes to slowly and tenderly pulling apart, one by one, her-”
The entire batch of vegetables was pushed into the sink and the garbage disposal was turned on, drowning Vision’s words while Tony deadpan looked at the camera.
Vision: Acting skills *blinks at the camera* I was trying to tell Tony about Y/N’s acting skills.
“Tony, are you alright?” Vision asked over the crushing of a fresh carrot being shoved down the sink.
“I’m fine,” Tony stretched his lips in a smile while his eyes never let go of the horror, shoving the biggest gourd from the vegetable pile down the sink to murder it while the camera zoomed in on his disturbing expression, “everything’s fine.”
Vision’s golden pupils contracted as he looked at Tony and then up at the camera.
Vision: *sombre mood**holds a cigar in his hand**looks at a distant void* All these years saving the earth, I think Tony has forgotten the meaning of keeping things light.
*turns at the camera* Hm? Oh, no I am not smoking this. This is for adding an intense effect to the conversation *smiles* Rhodey and Sam taught me that.
The Facility Entrance
One camera looked down from the first floor at the dark skin plump lady entering the facility with Happy, being directed towards the elevator. “Who is she?” The camera swivelled from the stranger disappearing downstairs to a curious Scott bending way more than he should over the railing to get a good look at the stranger. He would have almost tripped over if it weren’t for Rhodey grabbing his pants when he did.
“I was just checking for ants on the roof down-on the uhh ceiling there,” Scott tried to explain himself while trying to sound cool and casual- nothing like a normal human about to fall face-first on the ground floor.
“Yeah, and I was looking for a dumb chimp set free,” Rhodey mocked a laugh before gesturing him towards the lounge.
“I would consider myself more of a Panamanian white-faced Capuchin,” he muttered under his breath as he followed the man.
In the lounge, Vision stirred cream into his cup of coffee while Tony seemingly brooded in front of the flatscreen.
The camera looked at an unaware Tony turning his head from the screen, first at Rhodey and then at the elevator when it dinged at the arrival of the woman.
Tony got up as the woman stepped foot into the lounge, taking in the place around her. “What are you doing here? We didn’t have a session today!” Tony called out with his arms open to display his surprise, his eyes bouncing in question from Happy to Rhodey.
The woman in a Mauve dress handed her coat to Happy while passing a look at the cameras around the lounge along with the company. “I was called by a concerned friend about you having an episode here this morning.”
One of the cameras panned in on Vision taking a sip of his coffee while sharing a look with it before disappearing out of the lounge through a wall as quietly as he had come.
Tony stuttered in shock, unable to get words out of his mouth. “Wh-ha-wh-I did NOT have an episode!”
The woman looked at him with a dead expression, not even blinking. “So you did not force a gourd down the garbage disposal?” she asked in a low pitch, even Scott felt a tingle of horror down his spine.
Tony paused for a second before crossing his arms across his chest. “The gourd was rotten,” he simply stated.
“For sleeping with your daughter?” came another dead snap from the lady, leaving Scott’s jaw on the floor with a muted ‘what’. And Tony’s eyes went wide with rage. “HE DID NOT SLEEP WITH MY DAUGHTER! HE SO MUCH AS TOUCHES HER WITH THE WRONG INTENTION, IT WILL BE HIM INSTEAD OF THAT GOURD IN-” Tony paused to look around the room, realising what he just did.
“Congratulations, Anthony,” the lady exclaimed with not even an ounce of sympathy in her voice, “you just played yourself. Now sit yo ass down before I have to whoop it like the time when you and James broke curfew to go party at night.”
Rhodey gasped in full offence. “Mama, why you gotta bring me in every time he does somethin’ wrong?!”
Scott gasped again, looking right at Rhodey, “She’s your mama?!” The delight on his face and in his high-pitched voice was immeasurable.
“You wanna find out, come sit on the couch next to yo brother,” she replied, pointing at the sofa while she herself took the comfy armchair and got her reading glasses and notebook out of her purse.
Rhodey stood there contemplating for a second before giving a nod. “You’re on your own, Anthony.”
Tony sat down on the couch. “Traitor,” he called out to Rhodey’s figure walking away.
Scott folded his hands in front of him and turned to Mrs Rhodes. “What can I get you, Mrs Rhodes? Tea, coffee, juice, Pina Colada?”
Mrs Rhodes smiled at Scott. “Tea would be nice, darling. Thank you.” And turned back to Tony only to be distracted by the image of you and Lulu sitting in what seemed like a parking lot of some Motel made in modern Egyptian architecture. You stroked Lulu’s hair while he purred when Loki walked out of the entrance towards you.
“We got a room. Come on,” he mentioned before walking towards a patio with you and the rest.
“Is that-” Mrs Rhodes did not say anymore as her eyes still tried to come in terms with what she was seeing.
“A live feed with eight-hour delay coming from one of the cameras they have with them. Javier’s behind the camera. He’s a sweet boy. And that dark-haired beast is Loki,” Tony grumbled under his breath, his eyes never leaving the God on the screen.
“I don’t care about him,” she announced, horrified, “what in the name of Christ is that damn thing walking around with your daughter?!”
Tony looked back at the screen, confused. “That’s Lulu. It’s some cat-like alien she adopted. It’s harmless. All it does is hoot and chirp all day.”
Mrs Rhodes’ eyes went away from the screen to a distant void to contemplate something inside her head. “You daughter. Adopted. An alien.” Turning towards Tony with those judgmental eyes of a mother, she almost sang, “Now, who does that remind me of? Honey-” she called out for Scott without taking her eyes off Tony- “might as well keep a bottle of scotch ready for me.”
Fifteen Minutes Later
The camera was now settled outside the Lounge in the balcony with a sneaky Scott looking inside past Tony and Mrs Rhodes at the flatscreen. He was so engrossed in his OTP’s movements, he did not sense Sam walking down the stairs from the garden-cum-bar on the roof. Sam, on the other hand, looked at the man with pure judgement before settling down on the lounge seat behind the strategically set plants in front of the window. “‘Sup, stalker.”
Scott sighed. “Come up with another name, I can’t hear what they are talking about.”
“Why would you want to hear what Tony and Mrs Rhodes are talking about?”
“No! Not them! Y/N and Loki! Tony kicked me out because he’s having a therapy session. I don’t care what those two are talking about. I want to find out what is going on between those two!”
Sam shrugged. “Use their earphones man,” he pointed at Ana behind the camera, who took two wireless earpieces out of frame before handing it to them.
“...just two people staying at a motel for the night. Not to mention stuck on another planet with no one but each other to trust. Now tell me what is not to your liking here, Tony,” Mrs Rhodes’ voice echoed through the earpieces.
Tony head slumped on the headrest of the sofa as he watched the feed.
You entered the decently spacious room coloured in themes of sandy yellow with patterns of blue halfway on the walls, putting your backpack down on the table in the middle. “Wow! This looks so much more decent for a space Motel,” you appreciated.
Loki dropped the bag he was carrying, almost receiving a wince from you. “Careful! The Hardy boys said half of this stuff is to be handled with care.”
“They are shurikens, tasers and canisters of medicines. I think we’ll be fine, darling. And what is with you adding space to everything you see here?”
You swiped a finger at the window sill, impressed at it having gathered no dust at all. “What should I call it then, space buddy?”
Loki paused before letting loose the slightest smirk. “Learn the names of the places you visit. And the people you meet. And the objects you discover. You never know when it might become handy.”
Mrs Rhodes raised a brow at Tony, who was frustrated at not finding any window to point his fingers at Loki.
“Oh, I never thought about it that way,” you stated, before turning away from the windows view to a beautiful garden outside. “So, who’s taking the couch.”
Javier called dibs by jumping on the couch before anyone of you could say something, leaving you and Loki to look at each other before looking at the lone bed.
"Loki," you sang in a suspicious tone, "there is only one bed."
Both Scott and Tony felt their bodies pause everything to lean a little towards the screen.
Loki too, stood still by the foot of the bed, exactly opposite to you. "The receptionist said she can loan us an extra mattress."
You raised your head and your brows. "Did she now." Taking a casual step towards the edge of the bed you stopped you saw Loki cover the same distance as you. "You know, I have had a looong journey. And a space journey on top of that-" you let your finger run itself over the edge of the white sheet covering the mattress- "not to mention I'm a weak little human. So I should-"
"Before you finish that sentence," Loki interrupted with his raised finger, "might I remind you of the one thing that is keeping you safe in this...space. To fight monsters and horny space young adults-"
"You told me I used 'space' a lot."
"I don't care-” he breathed even before your words ended- “that thing is me. So, as a sign of your gratitude I should-”
Before he could finish the sentence, you jumped over the bed and he followed by a nearly screamed out ‘no!’ in your direction, his entirety landing over you.
There lay both of you, crossed upon each other.
“Ar-Are you seeing this?!” Tony yelled over here, flailing his hands at the flat screen, directing Mrs Rhodes’ gaze at the zero distance between your butt and his body.
“Give me this bed, Loki!!” you declared from under him, your voice almost muffled by the sheets and pillows.
“No, I am having this bed and you can fight me if you want,” Loki announced with his claws in the sheets against the movement of your butt to move him away from you and ultimately from the bed.
While Tony was having a crisis, the camera caught another face outside the lounge window staring at the screen with a dropped jaw and a hand to the heart. Another one stared at that dropped jaw, trying to make sense of it.
“Hey,” Sam called out to Scott before proceeding to poke his arm with a finger, “hey. You okay? You havin’ a stroke? You gotta tell me if you havin’ a stroke. Scott. Scott. Tell me if you havin’ a stroke so I can get up and go. Scott. Sco-”
Sam: *deadpan* Oh my God, he fuckin’ dead.
*silence*
*snickers* *gets out his phone* I gotta text Peter this.
“What am I trying to see here?” Mrs Rhodes finally sighed.
Tony’s face felt like she just punched him in the chest. “What do you mea- that son of a bitch trying to get insufferably close to my daughter!” Tony wheezed and hissed and nearly cried.
“Your daughter doesn’t seem to care,” she laid back into the cosy chair while looking at the screen with keen observation.
You held the edges of the bed frame when Loki tried to pull you away. “NO! MINE!” you yelled, never ready for Loki’s pointed fingers coming to poke you in your waist. The sound that came out of you made Lulu jump from the window sill and hide under the sofa. “DO THAT AGAIN AND I WILL FART IN YOUR STUPID FACE!!”
“Not before I pick you up and chuck you on the lumpy mattress they will send over-ow, you are heavy.”
Loki was already grabbing you by the waist, ready to pull you away from the bed to the chair on the other end. But he was not ready for the work of your hands, pulling away on the bed sheet to twist around and wrap him in it, covering his face entirely. Your action made him move back with some muffled curses, his back banging into the wall, letting you get a headstart on that bed. But that headstart too was made up for thanks to his weirdly long legs, his arms pulling on your legs to get you off that frame you were hanging on to with your life.
Both of you grunted and fought to claim more territory than the other before the eight-hour travel wore both of you down to panting and tapping out of this messed up wrestling game.
“Time out,” you tapped, “time out. Let’s be adults about this.”
Loki nodded, turning on his back to breathe and get up. “Let’s go take a walk. Get some air. We’ll decide when we come back.”
“Cool,” you gulped in some spit to wet your overworked throat, “when we get back and still don’t know what to do, Javi can sleep in the bed and we choose between the sofa and the mattress.”
Javier knocked on the side table to bring your eyes to him. ‘I don’t want anything to do with this’, he signed before tucking his head under a tide-pod shaped cushion, leaving you and Loki to sort this bedroom tussle.
“What is it?”
“Everything?!”
“I cannot help you until you tell me exactly what it is that is making you uncomfortable, Tony.”
“Well, for starters, the very existence of this son of a-”
“Anthony.” The stress on his name followed by the death stare brought Tony to calm him down and slump back into the sofa. He raised his hands before letting them drop in defeat.
“You know I just met her, right? She just walked into my life, Roberta. Well, of course, that walking in part was something I did without letting her in on too many details.”
Roberta raised her brows.
“Okay, fine. I didn’t tell her at all. But then this guy came in at the same time she did. He not only deliberately let out the truth, making her leave, but also got her stuck in the freaking space with him!!”
“Really? How did you take it when you realised she knew?”
“I nearly had a heart attack! I thought she would hate me, never want to talk to me. Would cut all ties and disappear...in a manner of speaking.” Tony picked up the Rubik's cube kept on the side table to play with it while restlessly moving his leg where he sat.
“And did she do that?”
“...no.”
“Was she angry at you? Or Loki?”
“...no. She was worried. Anxious even.”
“Hmm. Have you felt the same kind of resentment for Loki otherwise? Before he got stuck in space?”
Tony looked up at the screen at the camera flies powering up and buzzing about around you and Loki as you headed out to check the rest of the scenery in that beautiful motel. “There was this one time when he went undercover with her. Something I did not approve of. Neither his presence nor hers on that mission.” He lowered his voice to whisper, “didn’t have to pretend they were on a date for something so serious.”
Roberta closed her notebook. “Okay,” she announced, removing her glasses and keeping them aside. “Before we go any further, Tony, I am sure you are aware why you’re being so sensitive about Loki hanging out with your daughter. Aren’t you?”
Tony shrugged. “Yeah. Because he tried to take on earth once. He can’t be trusted.”
“Mm-hmm,” there went that brow up again.
“...what.”
“Because you are trying to be her father,” she declared with a swat of her notebook on his anxious leg, making it stop. “You are trying to be a part of her life like any normal person. But you are being way too overprotective when it comes to Loki.”
“Oh, I am not-”
“Did he not save your life?”
Even if Tony tried, he was unable to form words in contradiction. “Did he not save her life? Twice? He has been living with y’all for a good amount of time now. In that time, has he caused any problem that might have suggested he is not fit to be around your daughter?”
Tony groaned. “He’s a GUY!!! AND A BEAUTIFUL ONE AT THAT!!!”
“And you think your girl is some dumbhead who does not know that?”
Tony never got the chance to answer that. “You think she does not know how much potential for danger that guy has? She is not blind Tony. Neither is she a child you need to watch over twenty-four seven. She is an adult who can take care of herself. What she needs from you is not surveillance but an openness to letting her know that you are there for her even if you were not there before. And if- this is a big if- if Loki ever hurts her, you don’t have to stand there with a banner spelling ‘I told you so’. You have to hug her and protect her. And in the name of whatever Lord it is that you pray to, Tony, you have to stop projecting your guilt like this. Her getting lost in space was not your fault.”
“How did you-I never told you half of these things!”
“I have ways to get it out of people, mister.”
“Rhodey,” Tony hissed.
“No!” Roberta swatted him again, this time on his head. ���No one blames you for that incident. Neither should you. You hear me?”
Tony nodded with his lips pressed. “Yes, ma’am.”
“So, what is the first thing that you will be doing now?”
Tony clicked his tongue while looking at the flatscreen. “I will...stop making missiles loaded with Loki’s DNA signature designed to blow him up.”
Swat!
“Ow! I’m kidding! Jesus, woman! I will stop guilt-tripping myself and I will stop worrying about Y/N. But that does not mean I will stop working on ways to get her home.”
“And?”
“And...I will be nicer to Loki.”
“Even if he starts dating your daughter?”
“WHYYY would he-” Tony looked at a very serious Roberta looking at him to complete that sentence. “Theoretically. Theoretically, if he starts dating my daughter, I-” he inhaled- “will mind my own business. But you can’t change me in a day. I’ll go after his knees if he does something that directly affects me.”
Roberta clapped her hands together. “Well, we are done for today. We will try some breathing exercises on Thursday along with exploring more of this relentlessness with Loki. Now, go get yo mama some iced tea.”
Tony chuckled at Roberta’s enthusiasm. “Okay. Which one? Peach, lemon, uhh-”
“The one with Long Island in it,” she ended, shifting to the sofa to watch whatever was going on in space. “And bring me some popcorn.”
Motel Galacto-Ra, Eight Hours Earlier
“Loki?”
“Hmm?”
“How are we paying the rent for the night?”
“With our bodies. Ow!”
He chuckled even though his rub hurt from your elbow. "I borrowed some talons from your boyfriends when we left."
You crinkled your brows. "And by borrowed you mean…"
Loki simply shrugged and kept walking through the garden with you. The flowers, some colourful, some transparent to your eye, were in full bloom along the strip of water that flowed from the mountain at the entrance outside.
"Keep me updated on what all is precious on any planet we land, okay? In case I have to barter with someone, you know," you added casually.
Loki smiled at you while you were distracted by the sound of mushing potatoes from your other side. You turned to watch a creature with what looked like boils on his entire body and four arms lean by a lamp post. His green coloured beard hid most of his face but not his beady red eyes looking at you while he grunted. "Lookin' sparkling baby!" He catcalled you, making you mock a disgusted laugh out your lungs.
"Oh my God, there is catcalling even here?" You gasped in whispering tones to your company, continuing to match pace with the God.
“This universe has all sorts of elements, darling,” he sighed, “even the perverted kind.”
“Mmm, I could see that with your old ex-boyfriend in that whorehouse,” you slipped in, watching him watch you from the corner of his eyes. It was hard to keep the giggles in after a few seconds. “Hey, I’m not judging you,” you added, “in fact, I’m in awe. I wish I could have half of that confidence to pull something this big off. You have to teach me. Loki, you have to teach me.”
Before Loki could speak, an eerie whistle came from across the garden. A curvy alien with those Disney-female eyes and tentacles for hairs cooed at Loki. “Look at that fibre making up your limbs. Arrrr! Leave that little thing and come over here, you feisty beast, and I will show those beautiful parts of yours some good time.”
You had to blink yourself to the reality of having to hear those words. Loki ignored it. But the fly cameras could see you didn’t. “He’s more than just a body you space holes! Buzz off!”
An involuntary smile was already coming over his lips, the corner of his eyes crinkling as his lips parted to show his teeth to anyone who was looking. The entire emotion looked so alien yet so beautiful on him. And in the midst of this cheery daze, he opened his pocket dimension to take something out. “Here,” he called out to you softly, bringing forward his hand towards you, “keep this on you.”
Curious and bedazzled by the walnut-sized purple crystal in his hand, you took it with sounds escaping your lungs. “Thanks, Loki. Looks expensive. Wait-” the excitement in your eyes shifting to horror- “is something wrong? Are we not safe here? Are you going to sell your body off to the owner in exchange for the rent? Will I have to find my way back alone? I don’t want this! Let me go talk to the manager.”
“What? NO! Why would you think that?” Loki was truly horrified at the turn it took. “My body would sustain you for your lifetime.”
You thought about it. "Hmm. You would make a good stripper."
"I would make an amazing stripper."
"Ehhh you need a little work though. You didn't do much at Hudson's."
"Hudon. And that's because I was put there against my will. If I wanted I could."
You stared at his unadulterated joy in admitting. "What." Your lips could not stop the smile that was nearly closing your eyes before a snicker left you. "Oh my God, you are so cute," you confessed softly.
Loki tsked and rolled his eyes. "This pendant is for your protection. Keep it close. And take this too."
He opened his pocket dimension again to bring out a small dagger.
"OoooOoooh a KNIFE!" you hissed with excitement in your eyes, going for it while Loki pulled it away from your hands.
"Woah! Calm down, woman! You need to learn how to use it first."
His arm blocking your shoulders did not let yours reach even inches close to the dagger. "Argh! All I need to do is point and stab! Gimme!"
"No. NO! Stop it. You're only getting this when you promise you will use it only in case of emergencies."
You let his arm balance all your weight when you stopped going for the dagger and let your arms dangle on either side. "Ugh. Fine. You can teach me how to use it. Now please give it to me!" When he didn't, you broke into a strong.
"Give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, baby!"
Both of you felt a sudden chill in your body. "I don't know why I suddenly miss Clint."
"Me too," Loki added with quite the discomfort on his face.
.
“Okay. Follow my instructions by the letter and remember- one move too fast or too slow and it can be the end of you.”
The camera in the flies now zoomed in on your dead expression. “Way to start a lesson on a new skill, Professor,” you spewed.
“Now show me how you hold your dagger.”
You showed him. He pressed his lips and kept his hands on his waist. It took a lungful to get him to speak again. “We are not cutting peppers here, Y/N.”
“How about your hair. Can I cut that?” Loki swatted your hands coming for his locks. “Ow!”
He positioned himself behind you, patting the side of your shoulders. “Straighten your back. Come on.” When he saw you taking your sweet time with it, he poked with his finger on one side of your back, making you jolt forwards.
“Hey! It’s straight! My back’s straight. My boobs are out. What more do you want?!”
“Here.” He lifted your right hand with his. The dagger was shifted in your palm by his pale fingers going pink at the end. The hilt was positioned before his fingers curled yours over it. All through it, the distance became a bare minimum; your back touching his chest while your hair tried to tease his face. “The dagger will always stay away from you,” he stated softly with an ounce of seriousness mixed into his voice. “When the enemy is close to you, use this style to slash him. Run it the opposite way-” he directed your arm with his, his hand still around yours- “and when you come back, your turn it to give them one more wound.”
“Cool,” you exclaimed. The glow on your face along with that undiluted smile stuck till your eyes were something else entirely. This was some unadulterated joy you were feeling, learning to play with knives. Loki was watching your face from the side, not really able to digest that rush properly.
Loki: I have never seen anyone so happy to play with daggers. *shakes his head lightly* *smiles at a distant void* *camera zooms out behind him to show you swishing your dagger in the air in the garden while yelling ‘taste the metal of my shuriken, Sasuke! You unfuckable, overrated snake!*
*camera comes back to pan onto Loki’s face with a smile frozen but the eyes reflecting a newfound horror*
“Now, this one is for long-range combat. Always keep your arm straight and gut your enemy like this. Your other arm will help block and push in defence while this one will attack.”
“Ooh!” you whistled, “this one will go stabby stab.”
Loki exhaled. “Yes. That. Come on. Let’s play it out and see how much you have learned.”
You cooed, moving the dagger in between your fingers quite invitingly. “Roleplay. I like it.”
You positioned yourself opposite Loki. “Ready when you are.”
Within two long strides, he closed the distance, his hand coming for your left arm, trying to grab it. You turned against the pull of his force, to arm the dagger right into his back. “Stab. You’re dead,” you declared.
You couldn’t help chuckle out loud at his expression. “What! Natasha taught me a few moves.”
“When?”
“Remember our weekend getaways?”
“Oh,” Loki was impressed. “Again.”
This time he shed a little part of precaution and came for you. You ducked and blocked one dagger coming for you but missed the other. “Stab. You’re hurt,” he stated right before your leg came for his, bringing him down on one knee, allowing you to point your dagger at his defenceless ribcage.
“Stab. One for one,” you smiled.
His arm wrapped around yours, leaving you with no way to use the dagger it held. His other hand came for the fist you were about to throw at him; his toothy grin smack in your face. “Not laughing now-”
The impact of your leg with his crotch was not a clean shot. But it did the job. Loki’s words drowned in the pool of his own groans as he stumbled over you and you hit your back on the ground.
The flies roaming above took an air-shot of Loki’s grousing figure toppled over you while your expressions reflected a wave of embarrassing cringe you were feeling in your gut. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, cautiously patting Loki’s head.
“Natasha teach you that too?” he grunted with curiosity.
“...yeah.” You screwed your eyes shut, never stopping the gentle stroking and patting of his hair. “Your hair smells nice?” you tried the encouraging words.
You: *sorry expression* It was a fluke. I never meant to hurt him…*cringes* *whispers* or his potential babies? *camera pans out to show Loki breathing in and out throw his mouth while bending his legs and repeating it* You need an ice-pa-
Loki: *jumps away from you* Do not come near me.
You: Come on, Loki. *steps closer* It was just bad luck. And a very very lucky shot.
Loki: No. *walks out of the frame* I’m going back.
Motel Room
Javier's face came into focus as he adjusted the lens on his new- much lighter- camera while checking the live feed on his old one before turning the latter off and packing it to keep in his backpack gifted by the Hardy Boys. The view then flipped to you coming out of the shower in a black tank top and matching shorts.
"This is really comfortable. I should have asked the boys to pack me more of this fabric."
Loki sat on the floor with a device that produced a holographic map of the galaxy they were in right now. He shifted the view with a serious look on his face. You paused the little serotonin rush to sit down on the fuzzy carpet with your knees close to your chest. "So, where are we going next?"
A heavy breath was taken in before Loki pinched out to a location. "Knowhere."
"Nowhere?"
"Knowhere. I know someone there who might be able to get these cuffs off me. Once I'm free I can use the magic to teleport us to a safe place, if not back home."
The crinkle of confusion in your brows was something he saw coming. "Teleportation costs a lot. It takes a toll on me. So I have to make sure I have the required tools and energy before we make the leap."
“...oh. So, back when Cassie and I were stuck on the...uh…”
“Oh,” Loki sat up, “that...was a pure adrenaline rush. And it was only for a matter of seconds so it was easy.”
You did not seem convinced by his words. But something else took dominance in your thoughts. “I’m sorry you had to visit that place because of me.”
Loki simply shrugged. “No big deal. I could do it again if I wanted to.”
*somewhere on earth eight hours later, in the Avengers facility, a Scott Lang clutches his chest and winces*
“Come on let’s sleep. I’m tired from all the training.” You got up and made your way to the bed.
“We didn’t decide on who gets the bed yet.”
“Yes we did-” you were already under the covers, the cosiness making you whimper with ecstasy- “we’re both sleeping on the bed. It’s big enough for both of us.”
Loki thought for a moment before walking to the other side of the bed. “Fine by me. But fair warning, a lot of souls will die wailing tonight.”
You adjusted yourself well, nearly drowning in the fluffy blue duvet, over you. “The only thing killing any souls will be my post-travel farts. I’d suggest you get another duvet from the closet.”
The camera panned in on Loki’s face as he began his ritual of taking off his shoes. “You know, I used to think the reason you do not have any suitors for yourself is because of the over protective elements in your family. Now I’m thinking it might have something to do with you and your tendency to oversha-and she’s asleep.”
The camera zoomed out to show you already beginning to snore with your lips parted.
“Yup,” Loki whispered in a defeated sigh.
The Lounge, Night-time on Earth
Tony alone sat on the sofa in front of the flatscreen with all the lights off, drinking chamomile tea. The clock read twelve-thirty and the grounds were silent- except for the noise of video games coming from the Dorms.
Zuko jumped up onto the couch, nudging at Tony’s arm to let him cuddle against the man. Tony, more than happy to open his arm to let the little pupper crawl into the space and settle his head on his thigh, cooed at him. “Hey there, buddy. How are you doing? Miss your mom?”
Zuko looked up to Tony with his pure puppy eyes, making the man shoot a pure smile at him. “Me too, kid,” he sighed, “me too.”
Both of them turned to the screen to watch you and Loki sleep in the same bed. The top angle really did cover everything, though it made Tony wonder how and why did they get such a good angle. Loki’s head rested on one arm while the other rested on his torso above the duvet, still like a log, breathing like a silent river through the woods. You, on the other hand, slept anything but straight. Your body was sprawled all over your side, your legs awry, the duvet slipping down the edge, snoring quite audibly with drool all over your pillow.
“A part of me is glad she has Loki by her side,” he confessed softly to his company, stroking that soft fur with his fingers. “Don’t tell him that.”
There was a stir. Your hands moved. And then your legs. Your brows furrowed and you slowly turned into a fetal position before a whine left your throat.
“Noooo,” you mumbled in your dense, sleepy state, “don’t take me awayyyyy.”
“Huh,” Tony commented, “she sleep talks. Just like her father.” He smirked.
“No!” your voice grew a pitch higher, “don’t let em take me awaaaay.”
Loki was already opening his eyes, his body on alert as he turned his face to watch the tension collecting on your forehead. Up on his one arm, he bent over you; his movement making Tony pause his whole body and perk up Zuko's head at the screen. Only when he grabbed the duvet to come back and put it over you did the two spectators go back to their normal breathing cycle.
You were tucked into the duvet as discreetly as possible before Loki’s hand stroked your hair to calm you down. The little brush of his hand in your hair worked, making you turn and scooch a little closer to him, giving into his soothing touch.
Tony could see the little smile growing on Loki’s lips. “Mother used to do it when I had nightmares. It always worked.”
Once he was content that you no longer were troubled, he receded his hand, turning on his back to look directly at the camera. The serenity on his face added to the lungful of air he took while studying something Tony seemed to have an idea about.
“I know you can watch us, Tony,” Loki began, making Tony’s tensed shoulders drop, “I don’t know how late though. I know it must be killing you to watch your daughter be trapped with a monster like me in some galaxy unreachable. I can only imagine. But I understand if my company does not bode well with you.”
Tony twisted his lips, still stroking Zuko. “You’re right about that.”
“Just to put your mind at ease, I am not interested in anything twisted when it comes to her,” he continued, turning to look at your placid face squished against the pillow, “she’s better than you lot anyways.”
Tony raised a brow at the screen, making the lone camera recording him from the shadows pan in on the confused surprise on his face. “So, you’re saying you made a friend? She’s a friend? Like best buddies or something? Like do you like her?”
Almost as if Loki could read what Tony would say, his calm face turns back to the camera to seem as serious as possible. “She is tolerable. Nothing more.”
“I’m fine with that,” Tony agreed with open arms.
“She’s stronger than I thought,” Loki confessed, letting his head dip into the pillow to look beyond the camera, “I never imagined her to be this composed in such dangerous places. Makes me think she’ll do fine on that dirty old heap of junk crawling with monsters worse than me.”
“Ha ha,” Tony mocked a laugh but kept an eye out to check whether Loki was really playing him or being serious at that moment.
“Well,” Loki turned back to look at the camera, “doesn’t mean I will pass up on any opportunity to make you claw at your skin whenever you see me close to her.” The broader the smirk on his lips, the more Tony could feel a ringing in his whole body.
“You wouldn’t do that,” he whispered at the screen, “you are too high and mighty for such a cheap play.”
Loki’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, that sick smirk still stuck on that wicked face. “I mean, what are friends if not...close. Right?”
Tony paused the stroking again- making Zuko face him and wonder why his good times were being interrupted again.
“Okay Lulu,” Loki called out the camera, that stirred at the name, “get down from there. Sleep somewhere comfortable. Somewhere you do not have me or her in your view.”
The camera shifted, jumped on the carpet, moved in circles before meeting the fuzzy fabric and going dark.
“Yeah, I’m not falling for that,” Tony admitted, chuckling to himself, “like Y/N is ever going to fall for that. She’s smarter than that. I mean, look at her father!”
Zuko did look at your father but with a tilt of his head as if questioning all that Tony just spewed in the disinterested air.
“What,” Tony looked back at the pupper, who tilted his head again, in the other direction, “oh. Is that what you think? That’s it. No more cuddles with me. Go ask someone else for love, you traitor. I’m not buying you any more doggie toys, you stupid pupper. Shoo!”
#loki#loki x reader#loki odinson#Loki Laufeyson#loki fanfic#loki x you#loki x y/n#loki fluff#loki smut#fluff#smut#fluff fanfic#marvel loki#marvel fluff#marvel smut#marvel fanfic#MCU#mcu fluff#mcu smut#mcu fanfiction#mcu fanfic#fanfiction#loki god of mischief#loki fanfiction#Loki Friggason#loki aesthetic#LOKI SPEAKS#loki series#loki son of laufey#loki god of stories
127 notes
·
View notes
Text
No way
Ok here I am with something that was requested days ago but I suck whoops. I’m always taking requests, especially since it’s now technically my summer vacation (!) and I’m incredibly bored with nothing to do. This also took me like nine years to figure out the title for it and I was so close to leaving it untitled but I’ve been on a roll lately with them I couldn’t let that end.
Here’s the original request!
_______________________________
Just call him. Worst case he says no, and you bring someone else. You tell your mother that he was busy. She knows he’s a hockey player, he could have practice or games or other commitments that she doesn’t know about. She didn’t know he was your best friend. You have to ask him, though. Why are you nervous.
You dial his number, frantically pacing around your kitchen praying that he answers so you don’t have to call back. “How much do you love me?” you spit into the phone as soon as you hear his voice on the other end.
“What are you going to ask me to do?” You can practically hear him roll his eyes at you, picturing the smile on his face that would also accompany it if this conversation were happening in person.
You stop pacing for a minute, slightly stunned that he’s caught on to your normal tactic. “How do you know I was going to ask you to do something?”
“I have known you for five years and not once have you asked me how much I love you without following it up with a favor.” You think back to all the things you’ve asked him to do in the past; go with you to the concerts that no one else was free to, go out to dinner with you when you needed to get out of the house, he’s even come to some of your presentations for classes when he knew he had practice immediately after. You were slightly annoyed that he figured out your plan.
“Ok, fine, but, you always do the things I ask you to when I start with that, so really, this is your fault.”
“What am I doing?”
“So you’ll do it?”
“Y/N, I need to know what I’m doing before I say yes.” He laughs, knowing he’s going to end up saying yes anyway.
“So remember how I told you that we’re having that big family reunion in like two weeks?”
You hear him take in a breath, letting out a heavy sigh, “Yes.”
“Well. My mom gave me two tickets.”
“Why?”
“So remember -”
“Stop saying so remember and just tell me,” he interrupts.
“So remember how we took that picture together after the game against the Habs and I posted it on Instagram?” you ask him, ignoring his interruption.
“Yes. Why? The longer this takes you the more likely I am to say to no.”
“Ok, my Instagram got connected to my Facebook and my dad saw the picture and showed my mom and she assumed we were dating so she sent me two tickets to the family reunion for, and I quote, ‘me and my boyfriend, Matt.’ I’m sorry,” you say really fast, hoping that he won’t process what you just sad in time to say no.
“What?” he yells. You hear something land with a thud through your speaker, “Ah, fuck. Remind me to clean up my kitchen later.”
“I’m sorry,” you say again. “Please? Please, please, please? Everything is already paid for. Free flight, free food, free everything. You just have to come and pretend that we’re dating for a weekend and then I can tell my family in like a month that we’re just friends because we’re both wicked busy.” At this point, you’re bouncing up and down on your toes out of the nervousness of a negative answer.
He sighs again, “A few things. One, you’re from Chicago, you don’t say wicked. Two, what if I was busy? Three, why didn’t you tell her I wasn’t your boyfriend.”
He sounds annoyed. He’s going to say no. “One, I’ve lived here long enough that I pick up the vernacular, you would do the same thing if you lived in the south or something. Two, she would kill you. Three, she would kill me.”
He stays silent, probably trying to think of ways to kill you himself. “I would not be asking unless I really needed you to come.”
“Oh my god, fine.”
“Matthew Grzelcyk, you do love me!”
“Whatever.”
-----------------------------
“I can’t believe you actually roped me into this,” he groans as you work your way through O’Hare Airport. You two had just landed, trying to find your parents who said they would pick you up.
“Think of it this way. You pretend that we’re dating now, and I will owe you for the next fifty years that we are friends.”
“The fact that you’re assuming we’re still going to be friends after this weekend, let alone in fifty years is absurd.”
You ignore his comment, knowing he’s cranky partially because your mom got you the earliest flight she possibly could, and because he was with you under these circumstances in the first place.
“Y/N!” You hear someone call, snapping your head into the direction of the sound. You see your twin brother running towards you, looking like a child who hadn’t seen his parent in years.
“Hey, Tommy!” You hand your bag to Matt, grabbing your brother in for a hug.
He turns to Matt, “You must be Matthew, she must have some shit on you if she convinced you to come with her.” You had to tell Tommy that this was fake. He would have killed you if you didn’t explain why you all of a sudden had a boyfriend. Your parents didn’t care, but you talk to Tommy every god damn day. No way would it not come up. He and one of your cousins, Julianne, were the only ones who knew.
“She owes me for the next fifty years of our friendship.”
“Let’s just get you home before she does something else,” Tommy says, taking yours and Matthew’s bags, “And I would start acting like a couple before we reach the car, Mom and Dad didn’t want to come in.”
Fuck. When you saw Tommy, you were hoping you could give Matt more of a crash course on the family; your grandparents had eight children, your dad was the youngest. You had 25 first cousins, ten of whom were married, with fourteen first cousins once removed of whatever your cousin’s kids were called. Your family was huge, and you weren’t sure he realized how big it actually was.
“Hope you’re as good an actor as you are hockey player,” you let out, praying this would actually work.
“Trust me. Have I ever let you down before?” He puts his arm around you as you approach the car, kissing your head as Tommy opens the trunk to throw your bags in. You have to admit, something about his act was comforting. It almost felt right. For a minute, it didn’t feel fake.
“My baby is home!” your mother shrieks as soon as you get into the car.
“And you must be Matt.” your dad echos your brother from earlier, reaching from the front seat to shake his hand. “Hurt my daughter and you’re dead.”
“Oh, my God. Dad!” He was always a protective papa bear when it came to your boyfriends, but he’s never threatened them to their face.
“I’m joking!”
“He can’t even kill a spider, let alone your boyfriend.” Tommy, jokes, knowing that if your dad wasn’t driving, he would be smacked upside the head.
The entire car ride is spent with your mother interrogating Matt about his family, your dad pretending he knows more about the Bruins other than the fact that they were your favorite team growing up. You were just hoping they didn’t ask him anything too uncomfortable: the last boyfriend you had was asked about his medical records by someone in your family. It wasn’t your parents, but it’s not like they wouldn’t ask something like that. The best thing you could do was try to keep Matt with you, Tommy, and Julianne for as much time as possible. A weekend with your family would drive anyone insane. A weekend with you, your twin and your brother wouldn’t be the worst in comparison.
“Ok, so, you two, will be staying in Y/N’s old room,” your mom says once you pull up to your childhood home.
“Did you put the air mattress in my room?” you ask, helping Tommy get the bags out of the trunk.
“No, your cousin Danny is using that in the basement. You two can share your bed,” your dad says.
Sharing a bed? Your parents are old fashion, what do they mean you’re sharing a bed with Matt? “Uh, it’s a twin bed, and Matt is kinda big.”
“Well, yes, but, no one else could take Danny in for the weekend, so unless you want to share a bed with your cousin instead of your boyfriend,” your dad starts.
“It’s fine with me, sir, as long as it’s ok with you,” Matt tells your dad. From the short car ride, it seems like your dad actually likes Matt. Who would have thought the boy he threatened as soon as he sat down in the car would be someone he actually likes.
You spend the rest of the night with just your immediate family, thankfully. The reunion was a two-day event that was going to start tomorrow, so you could spend the night quizzing Matt as needed. By the time your parents go to their room, you, Tommy, and Matt just sit in the family room with the TV on in the background. Matt had been asking Tommy the entire time about what you were like growing up; how annoying you were as a sister, the iconic fight you had at the bus stop because he was standing on your shadow, when he pulled your loose tooth out at the shoe store as payback for when you pulled his tooth out with a pair of toy plyers because he asked you to, when you nearly pushed him out the window but instead spilled milk all over the dinner table and the floor.
“So, Y/N never actually told me how you two met.”
“How did we meet?” you ask. It seems like one day he just showed up in your life and then never left.
“You don’t remember?” he asks you as you were shaking your head. “We had dinner in the dining hall, you were friends with what’s his face that was friends with one of the guys and you just came and sat with us. Everyone else left and we spent the rest of the night playing bagel hockey with the knives and I haven’t been able to get rid of you since.”
You think back to your freshman year. Matt was a junior when you were a freshman, but you don’t even remember that day in the dining hall. “I don’t,” you admit.
“It’s something I’ll never forget,” he says, getting up, “I’m going to go start getting ready for bed. I have a feeling that I’m going to need a lot of energy for tomorrow. Goodnight, guys.”
“Night,” you and Tommy say in unison.
As soon as you hear your bedroom door close upstairs, Tommy starts, “You’re sure this is fake? What aren’t you telling me?”
“What do you mean?”
“The last person to act like that around you was your ex.”
“My ex is the human equivalent of the dog shit you started crying over when you stepped in it when we were five.”
“Yes, but before we agreed he was my stepped in dog shit he acted the same way Matt did around you.”
“He’s just one of my best friends.” There was no way Matt would like you. There’s no way you liked Matt. No way.
“If you say so.”
-------------------
Your house and yard were filled with the million people that made up your immediate family. The children were running around, your cousins were in the backyard drinking, your dad and his siblings were in the kitchen and living room, while you, Matt, Tommy, Julianne, and two of your other cousins were sitting on the front porch. You were doing everything in your power to stay awake, practically falling asleep on Matt’s shoulder while he kept rubbing your arm and nearly force-feeding you in a poor attempt to try to keep you awake.
You went up to your room right after Tommy said he was sure Matt liked you. With his words ringing through your head and driving you insane, paired with the fact that Matt was sleeping in the bed next to you and at one point was spooning you, you couldn’t fall asleep until 4:30 that morning. Then, at 5:00 on the dot, your mother burst into your room, yelling about how you needed to help get everything ready for when Dad’s family was arriving at 1:00 pm. Except 1:00 pm really meant 2:00 pm or later to your dad’s family, and you had gotten almost everything done the night before. You tried to go back to sleep while Matt was resting peacefully in your bed because your mom insisted your ‘boyfriend’ doesn’t need to help, but she kept thinking of different things for you to do, to go get, to make sure you had enough of.
You were exhausted, long story short. “Babe, do you need coffee?” he whispers into your ear.
“Yes, please,” You share a quick kiss, Matt getting up to find caffeine as your other two cousins start to grill you on your ‘relationship with Matt. Julianne and Tommy stay silent, trying not to start laughing, exchanging looks that are driving you crazy. Julianne probably thinks the same thing Tommy does: they both think there’s more going on between you and Matt besides a fake relationship. You admit, you’ve always loved Matt, but that love was the same love that you had for Tommy or Jules.
Eventually, the two others leave to go find more food, leaving you, Tommy and Jules sitting there while Matt is still nowhere to be found.
“Don’t say it,” you start. You know exactly what Julianne is going to bring up, and her having the same wrong opinion as Tommy was dangerous.
“This relationship is in no way fake.” Julianne shrugs, Tommy shooting you his annoying ‘I told you so’ look.
“It’s fake, I promise.”
“It might be, but, Y/N, you like him and he likes you.”
“Not true.”
“Ok, well. He’s here with our crazy ass family. You look at each other the way Izzy and I look at each other,” Julianne starts, referencing her girlfriend, “That kiss was not something I would do with a fake date. I know what you were like with your dog-shit ex, and it was the same way you are with Matt right now.”
“Could it just be that we’re good at pretending?”
“No one would play pretend with you because you took everything too literally when we were children and you have not changed,” Tommy butts in.
“Shut up. I’m going to go find Matt with my coffee,” you tell them, getting up to leave them with their ridiculous theory. You didn’t like Matt. You couldn’t like Matt.
You finally find him in the kitchen, surrounded by your aunts and uncles. He looked so natural sitting there with your family. He was making everyone laugh with his stories from the locker room, growing up on the Garden ice with his dad working there. The cup of coffee that he was supposed to bring you, still in his hand as your entire family just stares at him in intrigue, his eyes sparkling, his dimple showing as the smile on his face is plastered there that starts to make you melt.
Wait, shit. He couldn’t make you melt. If he made you melt, that means Tommy and Julianne were right. He makes eye contact with you, but you can’t stay there looking at him. You can’t like him. You don’t like him. You practically run to your bedroom, praying he doesn’t get up and follow you until you hear him say, “Excuse me, I need to deliver this coffee to Y/N.”
“Hey, what was that about?” he asks, not even bothering to knock on your door as you pace back and forth. You like him. You fucking like him? How did this happen?
“What do you mean?” you try to play it off like you didn’t just look like a deer in headlights once he looked at you with that dumb cute face. You can’t even look him in the eyes right now. Why did you have to bring him? You could have just brought your friend and told your mother he was busy. You shouldn’t have even brought it up in the first place, because then you wouldn’t be in this situation.
“Did you hear what I just said? Y/N, why are you acting so weird?” You didn’t even notice he had been talking while you were internally freaking out.
“Because I’m sleep deprived and have a crush on you and I don’t know how to act right now!” you spit out, your mouth working faster than your mind. You were stunned that you actually just said that to him. You just told him you had a crush on him? How stupid were you? “This was just a bad idea. I shouldn’t have asked you to come with me in the first place because then I wouldn’t have realized that and Tommy and Julianne wouldn’t have gotten into my head and made me so crazy.”
You look at him. He hasn’t said anything while you’re rambling, his eyebrows still raised in shock over the bomb you just dropped on him. You just ruined your friendship with him. How are the two of you supposed to fly back to Boston and stay friends after this?
“I’m just going to go back to my family and try to not... not cry, I guess?” you say, trying to push past him.
“Y/N,” Matt starts, grabbing your arm trying to keep you from leaving.
“No, it’s-” Before you can finish, his lips find yours, kissing you. Not the kisses that he had been giving you in front of your family. The kind of kiss that would drive you crazy when you were a teenager. The kind of kiss that made you feel like you could travel through to the stars, that you would never come down from the high you were feeling in that moment. You didn’t want it to end, even though you know it would. You could hear your family downstairs start to call everyone in for dessert, Matt pulling away even though it felt like neither of you wanted to. “What?” was all you could let out.
“I might have been a pain when you asked me to come, but you have no idea how excited I was for something like this. You were the girl that I couldn’t get since we met and played bagel hockey all night.”
“This wasn’t fake for you?”
“It was only fake for me because it would be fake for you. It would be pretty pathetic on my end if I thought it was real and you didn’t. It would also be something that would need a restraining order,” he laughs, pulling you closer to him.
“So then, are we pretending still?”
“Nah, we don’t have to. Let’s go get some dessert?” he asks, leading out of your room, your mom still trying to round everyone up.
“Yeah, why not.”
#matt grzelcyk#matt grzelcyk imagines#boston bruins#boston bruins imagines#bruins#bruins imagines#hockey#hockey imagines#nhl#nhl imagines
99 notes
·
View notes
Note
jiara + jane austen? YES PLEASE 🙏🏻🥰
ok stina i know eXACTLY which quote you’re talking about however!! i shall be doing a full fic based on it and for now you get another jane austen quote with an entirely different concept!! (this one is partly inspired by the jiara gc’s talk of there being a debutante ball whoop)
this also ended up being basically a mini fic of its own but just!! ignore the length!! i adore the concept too much to let it go!!
to be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love.
‘i can teach you.’
the moment these four words fall off kiara’s lips, jj’s brain does a recap of everything that lead to this particular one.
someone pranking him by putting his name up for the school’s talent show. as a dancer.
jj absolutely freaking out, losing it, because he’s in it and he can’t take his name off the list.
jj deciding to use the situation to his advantage, grabbing that two thousand bucks, hopefully.
jj telling the pogues about needing a dance teacher, in that case.
and now, kiara offering to be one.
jj clears his throat, dragging himself out of the momentary state of shock that all the other pogues seem to be in, too. ‘i’m sorry, you can dance?’
‘yeah! it’s been a while but...’ kiara stretches and raises her leg above her head, feeling all too smug with herself. ‘i’ve still got it, i think.’
‘why?’
‘why what?’
‘why do you know how to dance.’
kiara laughs, going back to sit next to him on the couch. ‘i had to learn ballroom dancing for the debutante ball, but i learnt it for years. to get it my way, i would only go if my mum paid for some contemporary dance classes, too, and i ended up going for years.’
jj finds himself too shocked to react. years of knowing kiara are currently being rewritten in his brain, every little thing that he just thought she was naturally stretchy and bendy being a product of years of training.
in front of them, pope’s jaw is nearly on the floor. ‘how come we didn’t know it?’
she shrugs. ‘you never asked.’
‘well,’ says john b, ‘that’s just unfair!’
kiara shrugs again, then glances at jj. ‘so, maybank? we got a deal?’
jj nods.
‘we’re entering the competition together.’
--
‘jj, you’ve gotta feel the music!’
‘i’m trying!’
kiara huffs, shakes her arms. ‘this is making me feel like jenna dewan and you’re channing tatum before he lets himself dance.’
‘i have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘step up.’ at his blank stare, she gasps, not even faking it. ‘you’ve never seen step up?’
long story short, they end up watching step up that night. jj finally understands how he is like channing -- and before he realises it’s a romantic movie, and not just about two people dancing, he thinks how much the main characters remind him of kiara and himself.
neither of them comment on the main characters kissing, even though they usually do.
when they go back into the studio (the one in kiara’s house), jj tries to be a little more like channing at the end instead of channing at the beginning.
kiara tells him he’s doing good. (jj ignores how that makes him feel.)
--
‘i hate dancing,’ jj says. ‘i can’t follow the music, i can’t find my own rhythm, i can’t do anything without you.’
kiara sits down on the floor next to him, gentle fingers exploring his throbbing ankle. ‘it’s okay to mess up, jj. it doesn’t mean you’re a bad dancer.’
jj himself doesn’t know what he says, but the smile kiara gives him makes the ache lessen. her fingers don’t leave his ankle, but he tries not to think about it.
��you have rhythm. and you’re a lot better at dancing that i would’ve expected you to be.’
‘because of you.’
she shakes her head. ‘we just make a really good team.’
the statement lingers, and goes beyond just dancing -- they both know it. they both feel it.
when he lifts her in the air, it’s as if she’s floating. when her back is pressed against his chest, nothing in the world matters. when her body is arched and she’s in his arms, he wants to kiss her.
like, a lot.
‘okay,’ he says, ‘maybe i don’t hate dancing.’
--
the night before the show, things are different. neither of them feel like training, so they sit in kiara’s studio instead, munching on homemade fries her dad brought them.
‘i’ll miss this,’ jj says. his voice is quiet and wavering, and he evades her eyes. ‘our little training sessions.’
‘dancing,’ she corrects him. ‘we don’t have to stop, if you don’t want to.’
‘isn’t that embarrassing?’
‘what?’
‘that i like dancing.’
she laughs, and jj notices she laughs with her whole body -- her head rolls back and she leands back, too, elbows going out like she’s about to fly (and maybe she is). ‘that’s dumb, jj. anyone can like dancing.’
‘but i like the stupid shit. like lifting you up. making you look like flying.’
‘that’s not stupid,’ she tells him, almost shy. ‘it’s lovely.’
she never says things like “lovely”. she never looks at him like this.
jj looks away, back at his fries. when they’re finished, and he should leave because it’s getting late, their song starts to play. he turns around to see kiara standing in the middle of the studio, waiting for him to place his hand on her waist and pull her close to the rhythm of the music, same as they’ve practiced hundreds of times.
he does that. but it’s night and the clouds are hiding the stars, lights dimmed because they turned half of them off thinking they weren’t going to dance, and when jj looks into kiara’s eyes as he dips her, he sees where all the stars have gone.
something changes that night. it’s changed long ago, but it solidifies right then and there.
--
they don’t win, but they place second, and the reward for that is five hundred bucks.
enough. enough to rub it on the noses of those who signed him up for this. he does it by wrapping his arms around kiara’s middle, pulling her up into a twirl with ease, because things like that aren’t a lot of effort anymore.
they’re on the stage. and jj looks into her eyes, sees those same stars, and decides to say fuck it to everyone around.
he kisses her.
she kisses him back.
jj fell in love with dancing because he fell in love with her.
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
So this is the previous Rapunzel-inspired thing, but edited. I decided not to put it on ao3, so you lot get it here. Enjoy.
//////////////////////////////////////
At the base of the silver Tower, on the back of a rented camel, one lone Custodian disguised as a mutant Tzeentch worshipper (read: wearing a paper-mache mask over his helmet and a T-shirt over his armor that proclaims “I <3 Change”) sat planning the next step of his daring assault.
Then a red lasso grabs him and yanks him up to the highest floor, in through a hole in the liquid-solid walls that closes as soon as the Custodian is deposited on the floors.
“Are you absolutely, completely, burn-your-soul-out, bugger-all to fuck-world and back insane?”
“Nice to see you too, Magnus.” The Custodian groaned as he got up from the floor.
“Do you realize what will happen if even a single daemon finds you here? I’ve found you here! Tzeentch has to know by now, and if you’re still here that means this is all one of his ‘plans.’ Probably to end with your humiliating death or corruption!”
“Was that a hair-lasso you grabbed me with?”
“Don’t change the subject! And yes, shapeshifting is the easiest spell for me to cast if I don’t want to be seen.” Magnus replied, his hair rapidly shortening back to its usual length. “Not that it works completely- there are some forces which can, if they/she/it/whatever the squid is right now choose so, can see everything I see. And since I’m on probation/house arrest, again, I’m being watched fairly closely right now.
“Which would be obvious to anyone or moderate intelligence who thought things through for more than thirty seconds, and I know you’re well beyond moderate intelligence, so we’re back to the ‘insane’ theory. Gods only know what disasters might’ve already been put in motion just from you coming here- and Gods knowing is exactly the problem.”
The Custodian sighed. “Rest assured, I do have a plan. A very… flexible one, yes, but I didn’t just come in, guns blazing. And if needs be I can throw it out the window and work with what I have to improvise. You know I can.”
Magnus shook his head. “That’s exactly what I’m worried about. This place, and everyone on it, belongs to the lord of plans- whatever you have in mind, he’s already well aware of. So if we’re going to get you off planet alive-”
“We’re not leaving the planet.” Magnus startled as the Custodian continued, “We’re staying here, and taking this planet out of the Warp.”
“And I’m now reverting to my original theory: you have gone completely mental.” Magnus barked out a laugh. “I should’ve known when you thought it was a good idea to come out here, alone, with just yourself and- was that a camel?”
“Right behind you.” Sure enough, the camel had followed its rider up the tower. This rider gave her many head-pats and good oat snacks. She liked head-pats.
“The fuck- how did that thing even get in here? Without exploding?”
“According to the sales pitch, she’s a specially commissioned used camel with warp-terrain capabilities and double-Primarch capacity.” The Custodian shrugged. “If that makes any sense to you then you understand her better than I do. I have no clue what she’s capable of.”
Magnus shook his head. “Never mind. The point is, you have to go, before whatever scheme you have in mind gets too complicated for me to pull you out.”
“And what if sending me away is the scheme? Hm?” The Custodian shrugged. “It’s not like you can prepare for every plan Tz- that one has. Weren’t you the one who decided that it was better to just work with what we had, than to think too hard about how to win?”
“That was a very different scenario. Besides which, I’m not trying to win- I’m just trying to get by. For now,” Magnus added hastily, “once I’m in a better position I can-”
“Stop. Just- before you tell me what your long-term goals, are tell me this: how do you plan to get into this ‘better position’ in the first place?”
“I’ll work with what I have, exactly what you yourself just said you planned to do!”
“So, what, Tzeentch mentions he wants this subsector conquered, you work on it, get further into his good graces, and just keep going until he’ll let you be free?” The Custodian shook his head. “We both know it’s not going to work like that.”
“I don’t expect my privileges to go that far. I just need enough leeway to make things… better.”
“You’re mixing your goals up. You’re planning too far ahead where you should be thinking about the now, and you make your immediate plans where you should be thinking about the long-term.”
“At least I’m doing something.” Magnus snapped. “Isn’t that enough? I used to just wait, wait, wait, planning every step and making every choice based on a thousand pre-existing factors, until I got too lost in my own head. You helped me break out of that- and I’m grateful, really, I am. I’m so, so glad I met you.
“But please,” and Magnus took the Custodian’s gauntlets into his own hands, “don’t destroy yourself trying to save me. You already have- in more ways than you’ll ever know. If I’m to live with the memories of you as my guide, don’t make one of those memories be your death. That’s not how I want to repay you.
“Go home, [R E D A C T E D]. The other Custodes need their Captain General, and the Imperium needs its leader. Don’t throw all that you’ve accomplished away. I’m not worth it.”
“I’d debate you on several of those points,” the Captain General said, “but for now, I’ll settle on this question: are your sons worth it? Are your people?”
“Don’t.” Magnus pulled away, and he turned away. “Don’t ask that. You don’t tell me to choose- between the one thing that’s led me to be someone I’m proud to be and the duty that I’ve only just really started to love again.”
“You love them?”
Magnus hesitated, but he nodded. “Ever since I got back, I keep seeing all the amazing things I knew before but kept missing or mistaking for something worse. ‘We humans have a peculiar ability to turn the worst, stupidest dystopian situation into stuff we can laugh grimly at, I appreciate that.’”
“Quote from the-nothing-maker, early second millennium assorted internet. Volume, Tumblr.” The Captain General said, “I read you that one.”
“You use my words against me, I use your quotes against you.” Magnus said, though there was no bite in his words. “You know, in the few times I haven’t been alone here, everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy. That you were tricking me into neglecting my kingdom so it’d fall into disarray, or were going to tell me to burn it all down so we could start over later.” Magnus sniffed. “It’s all rubbish. There might’ve been some downturns while I was gone, but the working infrastructure hasn’t exactly collapsed without me. Which is more than most daemon planets could say. Besides which, it’s not like I’ve been doing much governing since I got back.
“And when I see you again the first offer you make is to save the planet- though if you were a daemon or another Tz-“ The Captain General made a loud noise of protest to keep Magnus from saying the whole name, “-follower, I could believe that it’s some plan to destroy the planet, but… that’s not you. That’s the farthest thing from you. That’s why I- I can’t sit by while you’re destroyed.”
“That’s not-”
“No just-” Magnus swallowed hard and looked the Captain General in the eye. “Just listen to me. Please. Let me finish.
“It- it’s crazy but… if I died there would be another war, big fucking whoop it must be Tuesday, but… if you died, I think the galaxy would become a little colder. Because every time I look at you and try to decipher what sort of man you are, I find something wonderful there. Every time. And you can be petty, hypocritical, and cowardly, but even when you are those things that… kindness, that spark that makes you shine is still there. It doesn’t shine consistently, but it never vanishes completely. And… there’s nothing else I’ve seen or heard of in this galaxy that can match that. Not the Gods, not my Father, and certainly not me.”
“Magnus…” Against the speaker’s intentions, the word came out as a whisper.
“I know you still think, somewhere deep down, that you’re not worth it, or that you could be replaced. But I’m telling you, you can’t.”
“Magnus.” The Captain General said, louder now, but something scratchy in his voice as though he was holding back tears. “I didn’t come here to die. I know you think- that the place you’re in and the person you are makes it impossible to get out but- you keep forgetting one key thing, in the way it most counts. Who you are.
“You’re the person who saved hundreds of thousands of entire civilizations worth of culture and history- through negotiation and diplomacy, and just giving them respect. If it wasn’t you, someone else would’ve done it, and they wouldn’t have been anywhere near as kind. We both know by now that the kindest thing would’ve been to have left the galaxy alone, but that wasn’t gonna happen, so you made it happen your way. No matter what anyone else said, or did, or how they mocked you for it- you did what you thought was right. Just like in the Heresy, your sons were kept from the war because you fought back against the poison in your soul, and kept them as far from the madness as you could.
“You’ve done a lot of evil, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you otherwise and I’m never going to lie to you about that, but you’ve got a lot of drive to do good- and you’ve done a lot of good, over and over, from the moment you got the chance. What you did for me, during [REDACTED INCIDENT]
“[REDACTED INCIDENT]
“[REDACTED INC-] But you showed me that you want to go farther- and you are going farther, from the twisted paths that came before. You managed to hold out longer than any of your brothers (exceptmaybeMortarionI’mnotclearonthetimeline) when it came to corruption.”
“You...” Magnus said, with a small smile, “are the only person in the galaxy who truly believes that intentions have any value.”
“Maybe that’s because the galaxy doesn’t value people’s hearts enough. That life is so disposable nobody bothers trying to help the hurting. I think that’s bullshit. And Magnus, you stood up with me against the indecisive squid once before, and with your help I won. Now, I’m asking you to stand with me once again.
“Please.” The Captain General held out his hand, “trust me?”
And Magnus closed his eye, sighed deeply, shook his head, opened his eye, then reached out and took his hand. “Okay.” He said, voice breaking, “Okay. What must I do?”
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Tides Have Turned-Part 7
A/N: This is my old work, The Tides Have Turned. It is a complete story that I am reposting on this blog so the work isn’t lost and can be found for those interested :)
Seven
“Sammy you can’t eat that!!!”
My eyes slowly peeled open to the sound of Johnson’s muffled voice shouting downstairs. I had no coherent thoughts in my brain at the moment, as I let myself wake up. My eyes darted around the sun-filled room. Two beds…Adidas sneakers…boxers? This wasn’t my room. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as I looked to my right and found a sleeping Nate. His chest moved slowly up and down and I matched my breathing to his rhythm. He was distracting, I shook my head to refocus my thoughts.
I was still in his bed, I never returned to my room. The events of the bonfire were still foggy in my mind, I’m never drinking that much Malibu again. I rubbed my temples at the thought of hooking up with Gilinsky, and now possibly Nate. I felt the bed begin to shift to my right as Nate rolled over where he was facing me. His eyes opened slowly at first, and then shot open when he saw me face to face. I sat up in a rush, hoping we didn’t make a mistake.
“N-Nate, did we…” my voice trails off. He was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Uh, yeah. We did” he said, his voice groggy but unbelievably sexy. My thoughts clouded with worry, I hope he didn’t regret the events of last night. I suppose it was technically my fault, after all. I crept in here assuming I could spend the night with him, and what from what I remember I was the one to come onto him. I cringe at my forwardness.
“Nate, I’m sorry I-”
“For what?” he asks sitting up now.
“For barging in here last night, coming on to you, oh god you must think-”
“Y/n. Stop. You didn’t do anything wrong, I wanted it too” he says nonchalantly. I breathe a sigh of relief that he wasn’t totally disgusted with me.
“That was the most fun I’ve had in a while” he says pulling me closer to him, and he bites my lip into a kiss. I relaxed into him, there was no doubt he had skill. As much as I knew this would complicate things, I never felt as sexually charged as I did with Nate. He wiped out the memory of G, if that attests to anything.
“We should do it more often” I say in between his kisses. The words escaped my mouth before I even knew what I was saying, but I was putting it all out there. He pulls back and looks at me with lust clouding his eyes. He smirked, creating two perfect dimples.
“Yeah, considering that was just a quickie” he says kissing my neck. By now we were in a mess of blankets in the center of the bed.
“Was it?” I moan a little as he would bite and suck the flesh.
“Mmm, yeah. We had a little interruption” he says as I furrow my eyebrows. I mean it vaguely rang a bell. I remember light streaming in and words exchanged in a hushed tone.
“Next time I want to savor you; taste you” he murmured against the skin just under my ear. I could feel his tongue dart against my neck as it moved when he spoke. I shuddered at his words, already feeling the warmth spread across my body.
“Nate! Wake up man! Breakfast is ready. And while you’re at it, find y/n and tell her to come down too!” Sammy shouted from the landing of the stairs. Nobody knew that we were in here together. Nate groaned, but got up to find something to wear.
“I guess that’s our cue” I giggle pulling my shirt from last night over my head.
“The timing around this place sucks” Nate says all bent out of shape, which causes me to giggle harder.
“Keep it in your pants Nathan, shit will happen when it happens” I say giving him a quick peck on the lips. I head towards the door and grasp the handle.
“But Nate-” I say stopping to look at him. He lifts his head to look at me. “This forbidden friends-with-benefits thing has to stay between us” I warn. “The guys can’t know. They won’t understand, and it would make things too weird” I add. Nate nods his head knowingly.
“Agreed, babe. Besides makes it hotter” he says winking at me. I smile and turn to leave when he pulls my arm, twirling me right into his chest. He smacks a warm kiss right on my lips, and my hands go to the ends of his hair.
“See you downstairs” I say before heading back to my room before anyone noticed anything out of the ordinary.
Nate’s POV
I took an extra few minutes to cleaned up and pull myself together before heading downstairs. We couldn’t have it looking like we both came down at the same time, so I thought it best to stagger our entrances. I ran my hands through my hair and kept my outfit casual with sweats and a tank. I think I have given it enough time, so I make my way down the hallway and head downstairs.
The minute I approached the landing I could hear the guys shouting over the scores from the basketball games last night. Normally I would have been right there with them, but I had my own fun last night. The memory caused me to smirk. I plod down each step slowly and head into the kitchen to see a full breakfast has already been prepared.
“Damn this looks good. Who cooked?” I question aloud, my eyes lighting up at the feast in front of me.
“I did the pancakes and got all the other shit out, like fruit and stuff” Johnson said between bites of food.
“And Sammy did the eggs” Gilinsky chuckles at the notion of Sam in the kitchen.
“Woah, homie cooks now does he?” I shoot Sam a look of shock.
“You know I’m good at everything” Sam says his shoulders shrugging in an exaggerated manner.
“Shut the hell up Sammy” I say busting out laughing. I move to pour myself a cup of coffee and begin to pile food on my plate when I hear y/n’s voice ring through the kitchen.
“Mornin’ boys!” she says cheerily sitting on Sam’s knee as he wraps an arm around her waist.
“Hey babe, sleep well?” G asked her. I could see a smile playing on her lips.
“Mhm, really good” she says stifling a giggle.
“That’s good. I know how you get in those storms and thought for sure I’d have company last night” he laughs. A smug smile formed on my face, little did he know that she chose me and I did a lot more than comfort her in the storm.
I made my way over to the large dining table and sat next to Johnson and Cam.
“Hey dude, pass the syrup please” I say nodding at Kenny who sat across from me. He slid it across the table, and I caught it in my hand.
“Okay, speaking of company. I know Nate had some last night” Swazz spoke up a stupid grin on his face as he spilled my secret to the entire breakfast table. I nearly poured the entire bottle of syrup on my pancakes. I looked up to see y/n’s eyes wide, she looked like she was on pins and needles, afraid of what I was going to say.
“The better question is why you walked in bro” I say causing the whole table to laugh. I hoped this would divert the conversation away from the original direction, but of course they weren’t letting it go.
“Come on Skate, who was she?” Nash said, spooning cereal into his mouth.
“Yeah man, was she fine at least?” Johnson asked next.
“Guys I ain’t gonna kiss and tell like that. But yes she’s a dime” I say smirking and I saw y/n visibly relax before getting up to get herself some food. The guys went back to discussing last night’s game, and I saw this as an opportunity to clear my plate. I walked over to where y/n was standing.
“Close one huh?” I chuckle. She playfully hit my arm.
“Shit, yes. Don’t scare me like that again, or I will cut you off” she says with a wink before taking a spot at the table. I return to my seat and lay back casually draping my arm across the back.
“So what do we want to do today you fine people?” J asked outwardly to the group.
“Well I don’t think the beach is an option until they get a crew out to clear up the damage” Cam said. A few of us sighed, we wanted to live on the beach as much as possible this trip.
“Well I don’t know about you guys, but I need to get out of this house so I’m going shopping” Y/n says matter of factly.
“Ughhhhh noooo” Gilinsky dragged out, scrunching up his nose. The others had looks of disdain also, and even I had to admit shopping was the last thing I wanted to do.
“I don’t know why you guys are groaning, that wasn’t an invite” she giggles. “The only one that gets a free pass to join me would be Sammy boy, but his taste in clothes don’t exactly vibe with mine” she laughs harder now punching him on the arm. This is why she was always more than welcome in the squad, girl had mad jokes.
“Laugh all you want but I never hear any complaints from the ladies” Sam retorts leaning back in his chair triumphantly.
“That’s because you and the ‘ladies’ don’t exactly do much talking” y/n says exaggerating the word ladies with air quotes.
“That is strike two for you y/n. First the pranks, now this. You got a storm comin’ babe” Sam laughs, mischief filling his eyes.
“Well if y/n is going shopping, why don’t we check out the gym in town? Shoot some hoops?” G asks. Now this was something I can get behind.
“Oh hell yeah, I’m in” I say. The guys all eagerly agree at something much more their speed.
“Hey I got an idea” J says, we all look at him signaling him to continue. “Why don’t we all meet back at the house later tonight, say like 8, and then head into New York City for a night out?” he says.
“Yes, you don’t have to ask me twice” Sammy says. We all eagerly agree to the plan and y/n claps her hands together in excitement at the plan.
“Now I have something to shop for” she says before running upstairs to get dressed.
Y/n’s POV
I quickly pulled on a casual summer outfit. Jean shorts, a white tee, and my white converse. I loosely braid my hair and throw on my sunglasses before heading downstairs. The boys were all standing around in the living room wearing variations of basketball shorts, tank tops, no shirts, etc.
“Sweatbands, Gilinsky? What is this, the 70’s?” I tease.
“Why don’t you get some of those short-shorts while you’re at it Michael Jordan?” Nash joins in.
“Yeah, you guys won’t be saying that when I whoop your ass on the court!” he defends. We all file out of the front door and towards the parked cars on the driveway.
“You guys should take the bus considering there’s a brood of you” I suggest. They all nod as Sammy made his way to the driver’s side door.
“Not you Sammy!!!” Nate yells running towards him to stop him his tracks.
“Why not?!” Sam whines.
“Because you’re a shit driver. Last time we let you drive you got so distracted you rear ended a guy” Nate chastises.
“That was equally his fault you know!” Sam says grumbling while climbing into the back. Nate just looks at me out of exasperation and I giggle at them. The boys could argue like old married couples sometimes.
“See you back here at 8, babe!” J shouts from the passenger side window as Nate was reversing out of the driveway.
“You got it!” I wave at them. I walk over to my parent’s car that they left for me to use if I needed to get around this trip. They were mostly with Johnson and Gilinsky’s parents the entire time, so they didn’t need three cars.
I climb in and crank the A/C on full blast and tune the radio until I heard Bruno Mars crooning through the speakers. This was going to be a fun day, I could feel it already.
I drove for 15 minutes before rows of shops came into my line of sight. I parked on the street and entered a vintage boutique expertly displayed on the corner of the street. I walk in and begin to peruse the endless racks of clothing. I needed something HOT, hotter than anything I’ve worn before. I wanted to look good for Nate, nobody wants a frumpy friends with benefits.
I walk over to a rack of dresses and begin searching until my eyes widened at the sight of a gorgeous red one. My mouth gaped slightly at the price, but it was breathtaking.
“Can I help you?” a salesgirl wandered over to ask me.
“Yes, I’d like to try this on please” I answer sweetly.
“Wow, that’s a beautiful dress! Right this way” she motions for me to follow her to the changing rooms. I walk in and quickly strip shimmying my way into the dress. I turned to look at myself in the mirror and was shocked. I loved it immediately, and knew it was just the thing to wear for Nate when we go out on the town tonight. It had a decently deep V down the front, and a cutout back down a couple inches of my spine. It was sexy, but not slutty. I decided to give Nate a little teaser of what he was in for later tonight, so I took out my phone and snapped a pic and pulled up his contact information.
Me: Look what I found for tonight! 😜
I clicked send and started to put my clothes back on when my phone pinged with a new text message.
Sammy😈: holy shitttt 👅👅 that’s for me babe? You shouldn’t have 😏
I furrowed my brows in confusion, that’s not the response I expected to see. What is Sam talking about. I scrolled up to see that I accidentally sent my sexy pic to the fuckboy himself rather than Nate.
Me: SAMUEL OMG THAT WASN’T FOR YOU 😧😧 forget you saw anything or I will have you by the balls!!!!!!!
Sammy😈: damn babe no need to get violent. But we will be talking about this later 😘
Oh my god, this could have been way worse. What if one of the guys found out it was meant for Nate? I’m thanking myself that I didn’t include Nate’s name in the text. I put my phone away, dropping my little act of flirting. I wasn’t risking it again, sorry Nate.
I proceed to the register and pay for the dress before I set off on the hunt for shoes and accessories.
“Looking good for your man tonight?” the saleslady asked with a knowing smile.
“Something like that” I answer with a slight smile.
Nate’s POV
“What are you smiling about?” I ask Sam who had a shit eating grin on his face.
“Oh, nothing. Just saw something interesting that’s all” he answers slyly. He was up to something, or knew something we didn’t.
“Okay?” I say dragging out the syllables.
“Let’s just say tonight just got a lot more interesting” he says with one last smirk.
#jack gilinsky#Jack Gilinsky Imagine#jack gilinsky fanfic#jack johnson imagine#Jack Johnson#jack johnson fanfic#Jack and Jack#sam wilkinson#sammy wilk#sam wilkinson imagine#sam wilk imagine#sam wilkinson fanfic#nate maloley#nate maloley imagine#Nate maloley fanfic#nate maloley fanfiction#skate maloley#ogoc#ogoc imagine#ogoc fanfiction#Omaha Boys#omaha squad#omaha imagines#omaha fanfiction#omahasquadislife#yourescapetofiction#the tides have turned#magcon#nash grier#cam dallas
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Brave; part one
A fic that I wrote for @spectacular-spiderboy for the 600 followers writing challenge. This is the most I’ve wrote in one sitting in a long time. I think I’m coming back guys.
as for the warnings, let’s see...: implied torture, panic attack, anxiety? a lot of fear. I don’t know how to do this... Tell me if I missed anything.
I snatched up prompt #2 “Run, don’t look just... run” and wrote something with the Tenth Doctor. A very long something...
Word count: 2754 out of 6301 (whoops)
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3 (on it’s way)
brave adjective Having or showing mental or moral strength to face danger, fear or difficulty. Having or showing courage.
You were surprised, to say the least, when you stepped out of the Tardis, parked at the edge of a forest, to be greeted with two familiar faces. Two very familiar faces, in fact. It was as if you’d walked right up to a mirror when they approached you. You subtly shifted yourself just behind the Doctor, your hand finding his in a way that was unnoticable to any but yourselves, hidden by his coat. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze and smiled as he greeted the two before you. You had both found yourself face-to-face with prefect replicas of yourselves. Down to the last stray hair of the Doctor’s or the very precise piece of thread from the rip in your jeans.
They greeted you both with smiles and you could see nothing but sincerity from them. That eased your initial discomfort and you smiled in return as the Doctor leaned down slightly to your level to speak to you.
“This species shapeshifts and whenever they meet someone new of another species, they take the new persons form” He explained to you, smiling his ‘brilliant’ smile. “It used to be a kind of defence mechanism. Because who’d be able to hurt someone once they were looking at themselves? These days it’s just a formality to them, it’s polite. Well, brilliant really, but easy enough to tell the difference once you know how to spot it”
“How’s that?” You asked curiously, tilting your head as you looked over the copies. “They’re very well done” The two smiled, taking your compliment.
“Well they look the same on the outside, but they can’t change anything from the inside” He explained. Few key differences. For example, this one right here?” He pointed to the copy of himself. “Still only has one heart” You looked between both Doctors, both of which smiled kindly at you, and grinned yourself.
“Cool” You nodded, understanding.
”The formality the Doctor explained of them taking your form turned out to be a formal greeting. It was something they did for tourists, which they had recognized you as, but you weren’t entirely sure it wasn’t just so they could show off as soon as you got there. Still, you supposed, they got the job done. You were impressed. But they went back to their own forms once you’d entered the city with them. They showed you around and you couldn’t help but see the similarities to your own home. You spotted a grocery store and took notice of people inside slipping a long black strip of what seemed to be plastic into a slot as they paid.
The Doctor produced one from his pocket later, and you both went shopping at one of the more open marketplaces. More exciting, he said, and it was. They also seemed to have their own form of street performances, people standing to the side of the road and playing amazing music with instruments you couldn’t recognise. You told each one you stopped to listen to how good they sounded and everyone seemed so friendly. Even when the Doctor stopped to barter with a vendor selling souviner shirts and snowglobes with little people who walked between the buildings inside. The other man seemed friendly enough and you heard the both of them laughing as you wandered off to look at something yourself.
You were looking at some pretty colored crystals and when you looked up, you were startled to find the Doctor’s brown eyes staring back into yours. You jumped in surprise but quickly realised exactly what had happened.
“Sorry” The man smiled. “Didn’t mean to startle you. You must be an off-worlder”
“Yeah, just passing through, exploring” You nodded in agreement. “That’s my friend over there, although you probably already knew that” The man laughed and nodded himself.
“So I see you were interested in some of the spirit stones?”
“Spirit stones?” You questioned politely, your gaze lowering back to the stones on the table between you. The man picked up a deep blue one that reminded you of the Tardis and placed it in your hand as he spoke.You couldn’t help but notice his fingers that brushed yours were warmer than you would call normal.
“Personally, I think this is the one for you” He told you, smiling. Your eyes widened as the stone lit up and seemed to glow at your touch.
“What do you mean?” You would have frowned, but your wonder was far over-shadowing your questions at this point. You would love it even if you didn’t understand.
“This is the spirit of adventure and bravery” The man told you. “It glows like that because, like I said, this is the stone for you. It senses what is inside you, and it can see that what it finds resonates with itself” You looked up to meet his eyes as he laughed a little. “The stone is telling you that you’re brave” You laughed in astonishment, looking down at the little glowing stone in your hand again. “People like them to remind themselves of what is true of them. A spirit stone can’t be biased. It doesn’t lie and it can’t be persuaded. They tell the absolute truth. So if one tells you that you’re kind, or beautiful, or creative, or brave, you can have no reason not to believe it”
“I like that” You mused.
“I like it too” The man nodded.
“How much?” You asked, meeting his eye again.
“Two credits” He told you.
“Oh” You frowned, pulling the plastic strip from your pocket.”That’s with this, right?”
“Wow, you’re really from far away aren’t you?” He laughed good-naturedly. You laughed at the irony that he didn’t even know.
“You have no idea” You simply said. He typed something into a black box device on the end of his table and showed you how to slot the strip inside. There was a small beep and he returned your card to you.
“Thanks, for all of that” You told him.
“Any time” He smiled, giving a small wave as you moved away from his table. You watched the stone as you walked until you felt a presence beside you, and you looked up.
“Hello” The Doctor smiled.
“Hi” You responded. “You are you aren’t you?”
“Oh, yeah” He nodded, taking your hand in his. “Two hearts in here, don’t you worry”
“Alright” You nodded, taking mental note of how his hand felt against yours, a cooler temperature than was normal for you. The temperature he always seemed to be at. You wondered sometimes it that was a Time Lord thing or if it was just a him thing.
“Hey, Doctor?” You spoke up as the two of you walked, glancing at things. He hummed in response, swinging your hands between you. “Is everyone here warmer than humans, cos I was talking to one of the vendors and his hands were really warm”
“Oh, yes. Have you noticed how cold it is here?” He asked in place of a response. You nodded, listening attentively. “Well their sun is a bit further away than your sun is to Earth. Gives off just as much light, but just a bit colder on the average day”
“So they’re just evolved for colder days than most humans” You summarized.
“Yeah, exactly” He grinned, his ‘you’re so clever’ grin. You loved categorising his grins in their special circumstances, and each one of them made your heart flutter in a way you couldn’t really describe.
“What’ve you got there?” He asked, pulling you from your thoughts. He was looking down and you followed his gaze to your other hand, which was still closed around the stone. You opened your hand and held it up to show him but before you could speak he had stopped abruptly, gasped in delight and taken your hand to hold it closer.
“A spirit stone!” He cried happily, making you laugh. “What’s this one for?”
“Adventure and bravery I was told” You answered him, taking his hands from yours and passing the stone gently to him. He held it between both cupped hands like it was the most precious thing in the universe. His eyes lit up with the stone when it touched his hands and he grinned up at you. “Ah, knew it” You teased him. “Spirit stone tells no lies” You grinned. He hummed in agreement, looking at the stone one last time before passing it back to you. As it passed from his hands to yours it continued to shine.
“Spirit stone tells no lies” He quoted you back, taking your empty hand and beginning to walk again.
You were leaving the city by the time the sun had set, and you looked upwards at the stars as you both made your way back to the Tardis. The Doctor had led you out of the wrong side of the city, so you had been skirting the edge of the forest you knew the Tardis has been at the edge of. It all seemed peaceful until the Doctor pulled you to a sudden stop, startling your gaze away form the stars and squeezing your hand in his. You looked at him, but he didn’t seem to be paying attention to you, his eyes searching the darkness around you as he seemed to be listening for something.
“Doct-”
“Shhh” He cut you off urgently. “(Y/N), I’m very sorry, so sorry, but we’re very likely in danger right now” He whispered hurriedly. You looked around, your heart picking up to it’s now familiar panicked rhythm.
“What is it?” You asked, concerned. He still didn’t look at you, looking all around. You noticed the spark of fear in his eyes that took you a while to spot. It was easy now, but impossible for anyone to see had you not known him for so long.That special kind of fear that was most common for you to see in the Doctor. The fear for his friends, for his companion and right now, it was a fear for you. That only made you more scared.
You looked out to where the Doctor was looking but saw nothing. All you could see was darkness around you and the silhouette of the grass and trees behind you. In the distance you could still see the lights of the city and, hold on, what was that? Just barely perceptible, almost too fast for you to notice, the lights went dark and came back on in a wave. No, something was blocking them. It passed again, closer this time and you could hear the light rustle of the grass as it passed, coming closer.
“We should never have come here” The Doctor whispered in horror. “I should have known they’d be here, of course they would”
“Who Doctor?” You demanded, looking up at him. When he finally met your eyes he grabbed your shoulders, making sure you were paying full attention to him, not that it was necessary at the moment.
“Listen to me (Y/N), you have got to run. Go into the forest and keep running, hide. Trust no one you see, not even me. Not until you’re sure it is me, do you understand?”
“Doctor what… what are you talking about?” You gasped out, now fully terrified. You looked towards the city, seeing the shadow pass again, closer.
“(Y/N), you need to go, now” The Doctor insisted, gripping you tighter to get your attention back. You looked at him and he released you, pushing you towards the trees. “Run, don’t look just…” The grass moved again, close enough to be heard clearly as the figure came ever closer.
“Run!”
You ran.
Your feet propelled you into the trees, trying your very hardest to ignore the sounds of struggle behind you. The Doctor was trying to buy you time. Don’t look back. You repeated his words inside your head, a mantra to keep you from going against what he had said. He was so scared, but you couldn’t see one bit of that fear for himself, to a degree you’d never seen before. As far as he knew, he was in no danger. But you were. You knew, for whatever reason you knew you had to listen to him, if only this once. Don’t look back. Run. You climbed over a large fallen log and went to keep running, but skidded to a stop. Go into the forest and keep running, hide. You turned back to the fallen log, moving down the edge of it until you found the very end, to your luck, hollowed out. You breathed the tiniest sigh in relief. Somewhere to hide. Good, that was good.
You crawled inside and once you were suitably hidden, got to work on slowing your breathing. A hiding place would do you no good if your breathing could be heard miles off. It was colder now that it was dark, far colder. You hadn’t noticed it before, occupied with the stars and the Doctor beside you. But now you had neither. You shoved your hands in your pockets as you began shivering, curled up in your hiding spot. One hand clasped around something and you found yourself pulling out the spirit stone. Even cold and hiding in the dark and afraid, you smiled when the stone began to glow.
You quickly hid the glow when you heard a twig snap.
Someone was walking through the forest, not too far from you. You closed both hands around your spirit stone, willing from it what it said you already had. You could just make out the figure some twenty, twenty-five feet away through the opening to your hiding spot. The figure took a few steps, stopped, and looked around. When the call came however, your fear for the figure fell away completely.
“(Y/N)?” The voice called quietly. “(Y/N), it’s safe now, but we have to go. (Y/N)?” You clambered from your hiding spot, the forest floor crunching beneath you as you stood. The figure turned, spotting you.
“I’m here” You spoke up, redundantly you realised. The man ran over and in the faint moonlight you could make out the Doctor’s face when he reached you.
“Oh thank lord you’re okay” He breathed out, his hands holding tightly to your shoulders. “You are okay aren’t you? Not hurt?”
“I’m fine” You assured him. He sighed in relief and one of his hands fell from your shoulder, taking yours. You looked down when the light around you both seemed to dim slightly. You pulled your hand from the Doctor’s, finding the spirit stone in his palm, dimmed. Realisation and horror washed over you like ice cold water and you were terrified once more as you looked up at him, feeling the heat of his hand as he took yours again.
The Doctor’s blood ran cold and he skidded to a halt, fear seeping into his very core when he heard you scream. He was too late, he hadn’t found you first.
“(Y/N)!!!”
#sorry not sorry#doctor who#doctor who fanfiction#doctor who x reader#x reader#reader insert#doctor who reader insert#tenth doctor#tenth doctor x reader#ten#david tennant#sadies600wc#hey guys#I've returned form the void
84 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dialogue
"Ugh, but did you see them?"
"You're like a five-year-old. Yes, I saw them: I was there."
"They're so beautiful. I'm actually gonna die."
"Please don't. Imagine having to explain that your best friend fangirled to death."
"My heart is literally trying to jump out of my chest."
"I can see the headline now: A Chicago teen is in intensive care after overfangirling at a Q&A panel."
"It wasn't just a Q&A panel. It was the Q&A panel."
"My god, you're serious."
"I was so close! I was so close, I could've touched them!"
"We were in the fourth row back and they were on stage, so how about no."
"Okay, but like... god, they were so beautiful. I'd marry that entire cast."
"Including the drone?"
"Especially the drone. Did you see those mechanics?"
"As you keep conveniently forgetting, I was sitting next to you. Yes, I saw."
"Literally nothing else in my life matters right now. I could drop dead this second and I'd go down with a smile."
"Goodness. I'm sure what's-his-face would show up at the funeral."
"Do you really think so?"
"No. I was joking– for god's sake, put that knife down!"
"If they come to my funeral–"
"Drop the knife. I won't come to your funeral if... oh, just quit twirling!"
"I can't help it! I have so much energy. I'm never going to sleep again!"
"I assume you're never going to wash that shoulder again while you're at it."
"Because she bumped me! She bumped into me. I couldn't... I didn't..."
"You were totally starstruck. I saw. I thought you were drunk, you could barely walk afterwards.
"Who needs alcohol when you've got adrenaline? Whee!"
"You were bumped into and you got to ask a question. Whoop-dee-do."
"I know. My life is complete."
"See, I was being sarcastic and you're being serious."
"How can I not be serious? I got to see the most perfect people on the planet in person!"
"Get off the table. You're being weird."
"I'm being happy. I'm being thrilled. I'm being overjoyed that I was in that room."
"Yeah, but it was two days ago."
"So? I'm still gonna be bragging about it on my deathbed."
"You're in a morbid mood today."
"After seeing them, all that's left to confront is my own mortality."
"Deep. And creepy."
"But they were so precious! I want to adopt them all and care for them forever."
"I thought you were going to marry them?"
"I'll do both!"
"See, now that's weird."
"I'm actually crying right now at how amazing they were. Look, tears."
"Get out of my face, I can see them."
"I can't believe I saw the entire cast. I bet Robert Downey Jr.'s tears taste like unicorns."
"They probably taste like salt and ego. Why would you want to drink his tears?"
"I just want to touch him. Them. Any of them. I'm not picky."
"They're like three times your age."
"And sooooo hot!"
"What's the opposite of a cougar? You're that."
"I don't– woah!"
"See, now, that was stupid."
"Owwwww."
"Get over yourself. You're fine. I'll get you an ice pack."
"Thanks, bestie."
"You're literally acting drunk right now. It's been two days."
"Maybe I'm drunk off the fumes of pure awesomeness!"
"So, first, that's not how it works."
"What's second?"
"There is no second. That's it."
"Boo, boring."
"Stop. There's no music. You don't get to dance if there's no music."
"Boring!"
"As boring as Mr. Rosenthal?
"Don't even get me started. Literally nothing is as boring as Rosenthal."
"Go on."
"I mean, he gives us some bio assignment that takes ten minutes and leaves us alone for an hour!"
"It sucks."
"It totally– hey, wait."
"Hmm?"
"You're distracting me!"
"Whaaaaat? No way."
"Yeah, I was talking about how freaking amazing Chris Evans is– did you see his arms?"
"For the last time, I was there."
"He's so totally beautiful."
"Weren't you on about Robert Downey Jr.?"
"I mean, yeah, but I want them all."
"Like Pokémon."
"Yeah, kinda."
"If only you could encounter celebrities in the wild as often as you find Pokémon."
"I would pull an Ash Ketchum and leave my home to wander the woods forever if it meant I could run into Tom Holland."
"What about Chris Evans?"
"I'm flighty. Don't judge me."
"You're fantasizing about marrying and adopting an entire team of Avengers. Yeah, I'm judging."
"You're such a mom-friend."
"If I'm a mom friend, it's only because you're acting like a child."
"Okay, that was good. Feel free to drop a mic and walk away."
"I would, but I don't want to imagine what you'd get up to without supervision."
"I'm a strong, independent woman who don't need no man."
"Double negative. And what about all the men you've been fangirling over all weekend?"
"I'm a strong, independent woman, who doesn't need any men with a few notable exceptions."
"Better."
"I'm hungry."
"You're always hungry. I'm amazed you're as skinny as you are."
"Aw, babe!"
"Just a comment, not a compliment."
"Awww..."
"Ugh, don't do the puppy eyes. Now I feel bad."
"See? I win. I could be a politician."
"Would your inauguration speech just be you staring pitifully at the camera?"
"Yep!"
"Awesome. You've got my vote."
"Wait, how old do you have to be to run for president?"
"Thirty-five, I think. Just another two decades to go."
"Oh, yeah! I'd run on a platform of cupcakes for everyone!"
"Good lord, you're actually Pinkie Pie."
"Who?"
"From My Little Pony? She's bright pink, hyperactive, and defies all laws of physics."
"So, my spirit animal?"
"Basically. She's got some good songs, too."
"Wait, since when do you watch My Little Pony?"
"I babysit, don't I? Every kids' show ever has made its way into my nightmares. I swear, if I hear the theme song for Sophia the First one more time..."
"Maybe don't finish that sentence in front of the kids you babysit."
"Yeah, I've essentially had to swear off swearing so that I don't let slip a no-no word."
"Oh my god, a no-no word? That's fabulous!"
"And hard to avoid. I've got a sailor's vocabulary, you know that."
"Hey, I only know that I know nothing."
"Getting all paradoxical up in here, I see."
"Cornish pixies!"
"What the f–fluff? Why are you talking about Cornish pixies?"
"Well, I was thinking about the panel again, and so I started thinking about Loki, and then Tom Hiddleston, and how he's so British, so then I started thinking about Harry Potter because, duh, it's my life, and in the second book, you know how Gilderoy Lockhart is all like hey guys check out these dope Cornish pixies?"
"Obviously."
"And thus, Cornish pixies."
"You are the fangirliest fangirl I've ever laid eyes on. And I've laid eyes on a lot."
"Okay, but when I'm talking about, like, school or something, I'm normal, right?"
"Except for Mondays. Your freakish cheerfulness on Monday mornings is definitively not normal."
"Just because you're an actual zombie in the mornings–"
"Can you blame me?"
"A hundred percent. You're a big girl now, you should know to go to bed earlier."
"Who's the mom friend now?"
"As an annoying know-it-all once said: If I'm a mom friend, it's because you're being a child."
"What a wise quote. Whoever said that is probably a genius."
"And has like, zero emotions."
"Okay, hang on. Yes, I'm apathetic–"
"Did you just say you're pathetic?"
"No–"
"Because I, like, totally agree."
"As I was saying. Maybe I'm a little apathetic, but that's why we work well together, right? You tend to overflow with every emotion ever."
"I so don't do that."
"Girl, you started crying because that puppy yesterday was really cute."
"Because it was."
"It was animated. You started crying at the animated cartoon puppy."
"Animated puppies are still cute! All puppies are created equal. Down with the pup-triarchy!"
"Let's focus on people first before we get into dog politics."
"Ugh, people are stupid."
"Only stupid people get frustrated by the incompetence of others."
"What?"
"I was trying to modify the phrase 'only boring people get bored' but it didn't really work."
"Damn right it didn't, girlfriend."
"Anyways, you said you were hungry?"
"I did?"
"Didn't you? Like ten minutes ago."
"Ohhhhh, right! Yeah, I'm still hungry."
"Let's fix that, shall we? I suggest tacos."
"You know me so well. Let's do it."
1 note
·
View note
Text
I just realized that I, a lifetime resident of Ignis Hell, never made a post on my thoughts on Episode Ignis!! So I’ll do that now I guess while everyone is asleep and not tag anyone because... yeah.
Spoilers galore bc I don’t know if I can write a coherent review w/o spoiling some things. Just a head’s up, this isn’t really the most comprehensive review, it’s more just me rambling a bit, maybe I’ll do a deeper one later but for now it’s just a bit of a ramble. (this got progressively less comprehensive as the post goes on so just... process with caution)
Cut!!
Um where to start... okay, the gameplay.
I’d actually played with Ignis a bit in the main game before heading to his DLC, meaning I had a brief familiarity with his controls (so I wasn’t panicking like “hoLY SHIT bells and wHISTLes”), I just hadn’t known what the specializations were for, so that was nice. I like the way he controls. He’s very smooth, sometimes he moves a bit too fast for my eyes (looking at that lightning magic) but other than that loved it. Loved him. Wonderful controls. Heard the blizzard power was OP and I concur. I used it a lot, mostly switched between blizzard and fire, was rarely seen hitting that lightning unless it was for a Total Clarity attack, and even then... the fire. the blizzard.
Ignis’ battle cries! Lovely. I don’t understand the “you’re mine!” trend that seems to appear in every game I play, but it sounded great coming from his lips, so yeah, seal of approval.
I thank the lord every day for Adam Croasdell.
Ignis taking down those huge MT armors with the lance in two blows! (i’m talking before that segment with Ravus... which I’ll address later i’m sure) I’m a big fan of that. If I saw him do that irl i’d literally collapse. I almost collapsed just watching him do it in the game, but i was already sitting so i didn’t.
(There were many moments during the dlc where i literally collapsed, but let’s get into that later)
But going back to the voice acting. I heard that some people thought it was rather poor but I found it really great? Ignis sounded a little bit whiny at times and completely done with everyone and everything at others and I loved it. He always conveyed the right emotions.
There were those moments of course (you guys know the one. where he pushes off the MTs in the “resist” timeline. and just. keeps screaming. you know the one) but they just made me laugh a bit instead of driving me away. I look fondly on them.
There were actually a lot of moments that made me laugh in this dlc, serious as it was, i just. must have a very lowkey sadistic part of me. I always laughed at the sad parts of movies as a child. anyways. before i talk about those let’s get into these
these being ravus
ravus ravus ravus. my boy. i loved him before and i love him even more now. i’ve had a ravus/oc in the works for a while now and... and now i have a soulmate au in the works as well. help. this just came to mind. i’m sinking further and further into ravus hell on a daily
won’t even get into ardyn hell
back to ravus
love my boy. wanna hug my boy. i knew he was gonna take luna’s death very poorly but i thought we were gonna get a grief scene and be done with it but we got a grief boss battle (which... was hard. he’s so op like... help. the whole time he was on my team i was so happy i didn’t have to fight him and then...) and not one, but TWO grief heavy scenes so i was beyond satisfied. it was great.
uhhhh ravy’s beard. 3/10 lol. it’s starting to grow on me though (in a metaphorical sense. i can’t grow a beard.) someone give him a candy cane and put him in red and call him kris
uhhh
(this is getting less and less coherent as we go and i’m sorry)
i’m sorry ravus’ beard is so hilarious. did he grow it because there wasn’t anyone around anymore to tell him not to? whoops made myself sad haha
Oh! let’s talk about ardyn!
loved all the ardyn content. ardyn made me laugh and curse a lot, mostly laugh because... so theatric. the hat (you know the lil pat pat he gives that MT soldier he puts his hat on) and his little scandalized noises (the gasp he makes when ignis presents the ring in the alt ending) and that fucking scene where he’s revealed to be a grave robber and summons the armiger like it’s snowing outside
which it probably was
beside the point
Ardyn was good in this dlc. thank you Darin de Paul. lovely. his evil laughs... chills down my spine. but he evil laughs in a way that makes me both want to punch him and laugh with him. ardyn ignites emotions in me that i cannot name. not good ones, but ones all the same.
seriously though even if i wasn’t a fan of ardyn, ardyn was great in this. he’s slimy as hell and honestly... wow. he seemed like he was losing him mind a bit in this dlc and i love it. i’m 99% sure it was because of the ring. ardyn’s always a little bit crazier when it comes to the ring and this was allllll about the ring. so kudos for making it a trend
i... have a lot of thoughts about ardyn here. i just can’t express them correctly right now. ask me about them later and maybe i’ll be able to articulate. i’m sick and barely awake and all my brain is giving me is an “ardyn? cool bro” help.
there was more i said i’d come back around and talk about. um.
that mini stealth segment with ravus! wild. literally collapsed and almost missed the quicktime event in the second one. now i wanna replay the episode just to see what happens when i miss the quicktime events. i wanna do that with all of them actually. catch me doing that after i pick up my controller again. missing literally every. quicktime. event.
WAIT CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT PART WHERE IGNIS FUCKING FLINGS HIS DAGGER INTO THE FACE OF AN MT
BECAUSE THAT WAS HOT AS ALL HELL
HE JUST CASUALLY THREW IT
ALSO IGNIS HOLDING HIS DAGGERS BACKHAND IS MY WEAKNESS
WILL NEVER GET OVER EITHER OF THOSE THINGS
ohhh let’s talk about the parts where i literally collapsed.
1) when the eastern bridge collapsed just as ignis was about to cross it and he looked so done
2) when ravus and ignis did their stealth takedowns
3) when ignis was all “i presume you weren’t born with a prosthetic” like igNIS
4) when ardyn summoned his entire armiger to fire at ignis in the alt end
5) every time ignis screamed in general
6) when ardyn’s sword hit igs in the face and knocked him out
7) “This world means nothing to me. Do with it as you wish.”
8) AND THE LAUGH THAT IGNIS LETS OUT AFTER THAT LINE
9) when i got the bad fucking end because time limits
10) when ravus found lunafreya’s dead body and immediately went into rage mode
11) when ragey ravus attacked ignis
12) when ardyn showed up as gladio
13) obvi. ignis taking down the huge mts
14) while screeching in frustration, whenever ignis fell off of the fucking rooftops
15) oh, when ignis ripped off his earpiece
now let’s talk about the moments that made me laugh bc there were... admittedly quite a few
1) “Don’t be asinine.”
2) the way ardyn fuckin gasped when he saw that ignis had the ring in the alt ending
3) ignis pushing those MTs off of him in the “resist” timeline
4) ignis sprinting?
5) caligo immediately (and... ineffectively) trying to drag Ravy’s edges as soon as the man was out of earshot
6) ignis talking in his little earpiece
7) “Have you lost your marbles?”
8) “I wouldn’t do that if I were you” Ardyn says a solid number of seconds after Ignis puts on the ring
9) actually all of ardyn’s quote regarding ignis wearing the ring? the man was just like... “wow who is this kid”
10) ravus calling ignis “boy”
11) ardyn just fucking tossing noctis
12) and then tossing ravus as well
13) ignis going full halt next to pryna even though noct is right there, seems even he can’t escape the power of dogs
14) “Let your hair down!”
15) ardyn summoning his entire armiger to attack Ignis with
16) gladiolus “if you’re alive then pick up the damn phone” amicitia
17) the fact that the empire just carries around coeurls for no other reason than to drop down on ignis as cannon fodder
18) ignis sounding (cordially) ticked off with literally every altissian aside from weskham
19) fuckin. watching caligo control his mech in the boat chase
and moments that produced emotions i cannot explain
1) ignis always getting close to the altar/noctis and then getting knocked away by a freak accident
2) iggy getting healed by the crystal’s light (you know the scene. his hair is all down and that’s... the most beautiful i’ve seen him)
3) ardyn going to stab noctis and the dramatic irony bc we know he wouldn’t actually kill him and is just getting a reaction from ignis
4) ravus throwing the dagger at ardyn!!
5) quick recipeh
6) getting fucking. knocked off the edges of buildings. and taking fall damage
7) “I don’t want to die without him”
8) ignis seeing the claw of the fallen mt and immediately thinking “hookshot”
9) one-man army ignis
10) ignis being so very realistically tired after every single battle
11) ignis with his hair all the way down
12) fire eyes
13) fire body
14) generally ignis living up to his name
15) fuckin. father christmas over there
16) ignis asking noctis not to complete the journey and noctis turning it around so quickly jk that actually really really hurt
17) having to watch ignis feel around for everything
18) also i don’t know if anyone else caught this, maybe it’s just my game but i noticed in the ardyn v ignis fight in the alt ending, a lot of the recorded sounds of noct warping/fighting are mixed in the jumble of ardyn and ignis’ fighting sounds. i can’t tell who is making said sounds but i hear them all the time
so yeah
my general view of episode ignis? heartwrenching, 10/10, would recommend, would play again, will play again, all the best things, love it very much, will hold it near and dear to my hear. lovely lovely dlc.
#had to fuckin.... delete all my tags bc i have to use the first five. fuckin tumblr#episode ignis spoilers#episode ignis#ffxv#final fantasy xv#alright now that that is out of the way#this got hella long so proceed with caution#anyways for more information ask me specifically about:#1) what i think about ardyn's behaviour regarding the ring#2) the alt ending#3) ignis' discussion with noct during the main credits. and i mean during and not after#because i have things to say about those three things but i can't articulate properly rn#but yeah#end all be all rating... loved ep ignis#managed to get out it mostly unscathed.... so i'm doing well#admin note
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Girls Like You (Philip Hamilton x Reader)
(A/N: So this is a repost of sorts because I accidentally deleted this fic....whoops. But that’s okay because I got to edit a bunch of little bits and add an extra scene to make it better! I don't remember much from the original author’s note except that when I wrote this fic I had Jordan Fisher as Philip in mind rather than Anthony Ramos, so do what you will with that info. Enjoy!)
Song - Guys My Age // Hey Violet
TW: smut, age difference
You rang the tiny bell on the counter and served yet another red-eyed college student. You were only two hours into your shift at The Brewhouse -- the campus’ very own student-run coffeehouse -- but you’d guess that upwards of fifty cups of caffeine paradise had passed from your hands already. At least it wasn’t exam week. Quite the opposite, it was the first day of classes for the majority of students, including you.
“Hey, Y/N?” Your coworker Tyler tapped you on the shoulder. You tilted your head towards him but kept your eye on the latte you were making. First rule of being a barista: always keep your eye on the latte. “Can we switch, and you take over register for a bit?” Tyler continued. ”There’s a line now. You know how they make me anxious,” he said softly.
You smiled and handed him the finished drink. “Sure thing, buddy.” You turned around and wiped your hands on your apron quickly before greeting the next customer. Several students behind her, a younger man caught your eye. He was staring at his phone with his other hand tucked into his pocket. It was a stance most people took when waiting in line. This boy had dark skin and even darker hair. In the suit he was wearing, he looked incredibly attractive. The fact that he was even wearing a suit while at college probably meant he was on his way to an internship of some kind, meaning he was successful, meaning triple the attractiveness points.
You watched him casually while ringing up other customers until finally, he was to the front of your line. He smiled at you with a healthy dose of charm and slid his phone back into the pocket of his dark dress pants. “Hi there!” you said in your perky work voice, “What can I get you?”
“Uh, just get me a black coffee in your largest size.”
“Sure thing.” You picked up a large cup. “I like it black too,” you added, trying to make conversation with this Grecian god. He pushed his square glasses up and smiled like he wasn’t quite sure of you. “Can I get a name for the order?”
He looked down for a moment like he had to think seriously about what his name actually was. Maybe he wasn’t as smart as his suit. “Um, Philip.”
You nodded and scribbled his name down next to his order. As Philip stepped to the side, you quickly wrote your number down as well. You’d never been shy when it came to flirting with boys, and Philip was incredibly fine.
Tyler gave you a look when he picked up Philip’s cup and turned it over to read the order. You were busy with another customer when Philip got his drink so you didn’t get to see his reaction.
Once the line had disappeared, you turned to Tyler. “So…” you prompted. Tyler stared at you blankly. “Did he see the number?”
“Oh, he saw it,” Tyler laughed.
Your face dropped. “Oh no, what did he do?”
“I’m not telling you.” Tyler grabbed a rag and pretended to wipe the counter down.
“Oh come on. Please?” you begged.
“Nope. You’re just gonna have to wait and see if he texts you.”
You didn’t have to wait long though because later that day you saw Philip again. He was in your evening calculus class, the one you happened to be late to on the first day.
Philip was leaning against the professor’s desk at the front of the classroom. You smiled at him as you walked past to sit by the only person in that class who you already knew. Jenna smiled and patted the spot next to her.
“Late on the first day? Really Y/N?” she teased.
You shrugged and pulled out the book that you were told to buy for the class. You were trying to act casual despite feeling the entire classroom watching you because you walked in late. “I’m barely late. Besides, the professor isn’t even here yet.”
Jenna furrowed her brow. “Uh, yes he is. Who do you think you just walked past? You interrupted him introducing himself to the class.”
You turned wide-eyed to the front of the classroom. Philip glanced at you briefly, but he didn’t glare or even stare. He started to address the class. “Anyway, as I was saying. I’m Professor Hamilton and welcome to Calculus BC. This can be a tough course so I’m proud of you all for signing up for it. I hope at least some of you stick around,” he joked. His gaze traveled to you, and you quickly looked down. You could be pretty awkward sometimes, but this was one situation you never expected to find yourself in.
“Now, before you ask,” he continued, “am I too young to be a professor? The answer is: probably. But like you guys, and anyone interested in higher levels of math, I’m ambitious. I graduated from college when I was 19. I taught in public high school for four years, and a private school for two before I took the job here. You can do the math on that one. I hope.” He winked at the class, and you were reminded why you’d given him your number as your skin started to feel hot. You could definitely mark this down as the first time a math joke turned you on.
The class continued on like any would. Professor Hamilton wasn’t the type to actually try and teach on the first day, which meant you had plenty of time to consider your sins. Giving your number to one of your professors had to be breaking some rule, but he was only 25. That was record young for a professor, especially a math professor. You considered talking to him about it after class, but that could be even more awkward.
Although, you didn’t mind the idea of spending a little extra time with the professor. Your new knowledge of his status did nothing to smash the crush you’d already developed on him. Of course, it would go nowhere, but there was no shame in looking. Your eyes traveled from his face down to his chest and arms. He had just the right amount of muscle. Not so much that you felt uncomfortable looking at him, but there was definitely more than nothing there. It didn’t help that halfway through the syllabus he took his blazer off, making it ten times easier to see his biceps through his thin dress shirt. Sometimes he crossed his arms, and you had to remind yourself how to breathe. He almost caught you staring at him several times, but you always looked away.
By the time the class ended, you decided that you should stay behind. Whether it was to clear the air or stare a little longer, you still weren’t sure. You told Jenna to go ahead of you, and once everyone had left, you turned to your new teacher.
“Phi- I mean, Professor Hamilton?”
He looked up from his laptop and smiled. “Oh! Hey, stranger.”
“Look, I’m really sorry.” You pulled your bookbag higher on your shoulder. “If I had known you were a professor, I never would have…”
“Flirted with me?” he supplied. A smile was still on his face. He was enjoying your embarrassment too much.
“Yes, but to my defense, you look like a student.”
Philip laughed and leaned back in his chair. “I know.”
“You said your name was Philip instead of Professor Hamilton!” you defended again, but you were smiling now.
He threw his hands up. “I know! This is my first time teaching at a college! I didn’t know if professors always called themselves professors. It seemed a little pretentious.”
You were broken up with laughter now. “It is,” you choked out.
“I have to admit, though, I admire the boldness.”
You shrugged. “It was just writing my number down.”
Philip scoffed. “Yeah. And the things you said.”
“What things?”
“You ‘like it black’?” He made air quotes and then gestured to himself.
Your mouth dropped. “Did you- oh god no! No, I was really talking about the coffee! I like black coffee just like you do!”
Philip gave you a disbelieving look. “Sure, Y/N.”
You tilted your head to one side. “You know my name?”
“Uh, yeah. It’s on the roster.” He fumbled to pick the piece of paper up from his desk.
“Oh, yeah. Of course.” You tried to laugh, but couldn’t keep the disappointment out of your voice. Duh. You were his student.
Philip smiled. “It was also on the cup next to your number.”
You lifted your head up and met his eyes. For a moment, you forgot about the lines between the two of you. The lines you shouldn’t, couldn’t cross. “So, you did look at it.” You smirked and crossed your arms. “Were you going to text me?”
“That would be...really unprofessional,” he said slowly.
“Right.” You bit your lip, turning away from him. “See you later, Professor.”
When you were a fair distance away from the classroom, you started to giggle and happy-dance. You had limits and you knew that you would never actually be with Philip, but there was never shame in joking around and having fun.
A few weeks of harmless crushing went by fast. You hadn’t had a one-on-one conversation with Professor Hamilton since the first day, but that didn’t stop you from checking him out during class on Mondays and Wednesdays and Fridays. You’d already learned most of the material, and you were doing well in the class so daydreaming a little wasn’t hurting your grade.
Sometimes he came by The Brewhouse during your shifts, and you’d always write ‘Philip’ on his cup even though you’d finally gotten into the habit of calling him Professor Hamilton. He always acted disappointed that Tyler never wrote his number on the cups.
It was almost like a routine that the two of you worked through: always trying to stray from flirting, but never quite being successful. That routine broke when he asked you to stay after class one day.
“Whatcha need?” You hopped onto the table of the front row. Your legs swung back and forth.
Philip cleared his throat and looked at you. “I need a UTA,” he said surprisingly seriously. Most of the time, Philip kept things light-hearted with you.
“A what?”
“An undergraduate teaching assistant. I think you’re the girl for the job.”
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “Isn’t that usually a job for senior students?”
“Juniors do it all the time, so I’m told.”
“Why me?” you asked cautiously.
Professor Hamilton blinked like he wasn’t expecting the question. “You’re a good student, we get along well, and I believe that you could handle it.”
You stepped closer and searched his dark eyes. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Philip.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
You started to move around the classroom. “It’s a classic move. The hot young teacher meets an even hotter young student.” You gestured to yourself and winked at him. “This teacher proceeds to get close with the student, make them feel comfortable with them, and offers reasons to spend more time with the student. Once the student is seduced, they sleep together. Then the teacher always, always, turns out to be some psycho who’s obsessed and kidnaps the student.”
Philip raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?” You nodded confidently. “And I’m guessing I play the role of the hot young teacher?”
“Some would say.” You turned around and walked to the top of the auditorium-style seating.
“Don’t sell yourself short, Y/N.”
You faced him again. “What do you mean?”
“You think I’m asking you to be my TA as some big ploy to get closer to you. I’m just gonna choose to ignore what you’re accusing me of.” You looked down, slightly ashamed. You had been joking, but the conversation took a serious turn. Philip walked up the steps to meet you. “I asked you because you’re a hard worker, and one of my smartest students.”
You avoided his eyes. “It’s not a big deal. I only know this stuff because I took the class in high school. I just decided not to take the AP test. It’s not like I’m a genius or something.”
“Give yourself some credit,” he refuted. “This material would have been difficult for a high schooler.”
You considered for a moment. “What would I do as a teaching assistant?”
Philip simpered and took a step back. “You would answer students’ questions when I’m busy, help me grade papers, and any other things I need you to do.” Your mind pictured some of the ‘other things’ before you could stop yourself. “Basically, just take some of my workload off.”
You bit your lip and looked at Philip seriously. He stared back. Several moments of silence passed between you, but eventually, you relented. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”
Philip held his hands up defensively. “That’s all I’m asking.” He walked down the stairs, and you followed after him.
“Do I need to fill out an application or something?”
The professor was putting his laptop into his briefcase. “Nope, just let me know when you’ve made your decision.”
“Okay.” You watched him pack up his things for a moment, not wanting to leave but not knowing what else to say. “I’ll be leaving then.”
Philip slung his briefcase over his shoulder. “Want me to walk you back?”
You were taken aback by his offer. “That’s okay, you don’t need to,” you said awkwardly.
Philip chuckled, “Relax, Y/N. I’m still not trying to seduce and kidnap you. I have to stop by my office and junior housing is on the way to the main building.”
You let out a steady breath. “I’d love that. Thank you.” Philip nodded and opened the door for you. “I’m sorry if it seems like I’m accusing you. You seem nice, but a girl can never be too careful, right?”
“I totally understand, and I’d never take advantage of you.” He followed you out the door.
You nodded thoughtfully. “I believe you.”
“Besides,” Philip smirked, “If I wanted to get into your pants, I’d have succeeded by now.” He walked ahead of you casually. You stood in the hallway, too shocked to move at first, but quickly laughed and followed him down the hallway
“A teaching assistant? Since when did you want to be a teaching assistant?” Jenna asked. She had come over to your apartment to watch TV, as if she didn’t have her own flat screen.
“Yeah, you don’t even like math. You literally told me two weeks ago that you’re only taking it because your biochemistry degree requires it,” your roommate Emily added.
“I know.” You pulled a glass out of the cupboard and took the water pitcher out fo the fridge.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with the incredibly fuckable Mr. Hamilton, would it?” You could hear the smirk in Jenna’s voice.
You poured water into your cup. They were in the other room, so they couldn’t see the coy smile that appeared on your face. “No. I just think it would be a good opportunity,” you contested. Your defense was weaker than Wendy in Kubrick’s Shining, and Emily and Jenna saw right through it.
“Yeah,” Emily laughed, “Sounds like a bangin’ opportunity.”
You grabbed the bowl of popcorn sitting on the counter and your drink and walked into the living room. “You guys are ridiculous,” you said, sitting between them on the couch you and Emily had picked up off the street last year.
“Oh c’mon, at least show me a picture of Professor Fuck Me.” Emily raised her eyebrows suggestively and you groaned.
“I have a picture of him on my phone!” Jenna chimed in excitedly.
“What the fuck? Why?” You asked her, but she just shrugged and handed her phone to Emily. Her eyes widened when she saw the screen.
“My god, Y/N. Please have sex with your teacher.”
You peeked at the picture. It was a good shot. He was leaning against his desk with his arms crossed and a Prince Charming smile on his face. “You don’t think that be weird? Or wrong?”
Jenna rolled her eyes. “He’s 25, Y/N. Only a little more than years older than you. No, it would not be weird.”
You shrugged. “I guess, when you say it like that, it doesn’t seem strange.”
“Sleep with him! Sleep with him!” Emily started to chant with Jenna joining in not long after. You rolled your eyes at your friends and turned up the volume on the TV. However, being Professor Hamilton’s TA was looking more and more appealing.
You walked into Philip’s office and slung your coat over the back of one of his chairs. It was 8 at night on a Thursday in October. You had just gotten out of Philip’s class, and you were in for a long night. “What’s on the agenda for tonight, sir?
“I told you not to call me that.” Philip turned around with two mugs of black coffee in his hand. He set one down on your side of the desk.
You picked it up gratefully. “Aye aye, Captain.” You gave him a mock salute and sat down in the large armchair that he kept in his office.
The professor rolled his eyes and set a large stack of papers down on his desk. “Calc 1 just had a midterm.”
“Oh, fuck me,” you groaned at the sight of all the work you two had. Philip raised his eyes at you. “I mean...like, uh-” You didn’t have to finish explaining yourself because he burst out laughing.
“Y/N, you know you can swear in front of me, and you can call me Philip.”
“Sure thing, Mister Captain Professor Sir.” You winked at him, and he started smirked again, shaking his head. Philip opened one of the drawers on his desk and handed you a red pen and half of the tests.
“What are we in the mood for tonight?” he asked, opening up his laptop.
You tapped the pen against your lips, thoughtfully. “R&B.”
Philip grinned, “Perfect.”
Music started to fill the room. You took a sip of coffee and flipped over the first of the dreaded tests.
“Hey, Philip?” you asked about one hour later.
He looked up from his work, smiling at your use of his first name. “Yeah?”
“Can you come look at this?” He nodded and walked behind your chair, leaning over to look at the paper. You felt the warmth of his breath on your shoulder and forgot what you needed to tell him for a moment. “What is it?”
“Oh!” You shook yourself out of the daze. “Look at this problem.” You pointed to the paper with your pen. “They got the right answer, but they didn’t use the method you did in the answer sheet. I’m pretty sure it all checks out though.”
Philip furrowed his brow. “Can I?”
You gave him a confused look. He gestured to the paper. “Oh yeah. Sure.” You handed it to him, and he pulled it closer to his face, squinting his eyes. You watched as those dark brown orbs scanned the page. He stuck his tongue out, and you found yourself staring at in a way that was creepier than you were willing to admit.
Philip scratched his neck. “I don’t think I get what you mean.”
You sat up straighter so that you could see the paper as well. “See, normally you’d use the Washer Method to find the volume, right?” You looked up and realized how close your face had gotten to Philip’s. Your mouth went dry. “Well...they’re still using, um, integrals, but they sort of separated the figure instead of doing it all in one, ya know, antiderivative. It still works though. That is the volume.”
“Are you okay?” Philip asked.
You swallowed hard. “Mhm,” was all you could manage. He was close enough for you to smell the mixture of cologne and coffee. The scent caused an ache to start in between your legs.
Philip sighed and nodded. “But the point of the lesson was to learn the Washer Method.”
“True,” you agreed, “But don’t you think you should give the student credit for using other knowledge to find the answer anyway?”
“Someone found a bit of passion.” Philip smiled at you with pride. You looked down and blushed. “No, it’s not a bad thing! You’re right. Give her full credit, but make a note about the simpler way so she doesn’t have to do all this work again. Good catch, Y/N.”
“Thank you.” You went to take the paper back from him and your hands touched in one of those romance novel moments you always wished would happen to you. Your heart stopped. You knew you should probably move away from Philip before this got awkward, but the way he was staring back at you had you hooked. You moved forward slightly, testing the limits. Your lips just barely grazed against his.
Philip took a shaky breath, ”I’m...I’m sorry, I-” You pushed yourself up and kissed him.
Philip reacted almost instantly, coiling his fingers into your hair and pulling you closer. You felt a month of sexual tension fading away. You moved to sit on your knees so your were more level with Philip and put your hands on his face.
“Wait,” He pulled away suddenly. “We can’t do this, Y/N.”
You took a small moment to catch your breath. “Why not?”
Philip walked around the chair and rubbed his hands over his face. “It’s not right. I’m your teacher.” He turned away from you, took his glasses off, and set them on his mostly empty desk
You remembered what Emily and Jenna had said. “You’re only five years older than me. Not even that much. It’s not that weird.”
He turned around and faced you. You got up and walked over to him, taking his shaking hands in yours. “It wouldn’t be professional,” he stammered.
You leaned close to his face. “I won’t tell,” you whispered. Philip’s eyes poured deep into yours. You reached your hands up to his collar and started to undo the buttons of his dark shirt.
“This is wrong,” he said, but his fingers pressed into your hips anyway.
You grabbed onto his now open shirt and pulled him closer. “Please, Philip?” you pleaded.
He looked down at you and smoothed his hand over your hair. His eyes searched yours for any signs of hesitance, but there was none. “Come here,” he whispered roughly.
You crashed your lips against his, molding your body to his. Philip’s hands pressed into your back, and his tongue slipped into your mouth. Without breaking contact, he flipped you two around so that the back of your thighs were pressing into his desk. You pulled away for air and lifted your shirt over your head before connecting with him again. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, and you pushed his shirt down. It was so nice to feel the muscles that you’d been staring at for weeks under your hands. You let them roam all over his chest and arms.
Philip’s hands ran up your thighs to your bare sides. His lips moved to your jaw until his mouth was right by your ear. One of his hands took your hair and pulled your head back while the other slipped underneath your bra. “Do you know how hard it’s been having a student like you?” he whispered. Your breathing was shallow and clipped, and you leaned on your hands to support yourself. “You’re gorgeous and funny and you have this amazing smile. Every time you walk in my classroom it’s like you’re teasing me.”
You laughed airily. “Do you know how hard it is having a teacher like you and not being a tease?”
Philip smiled. “You’re a jerk,” he whispered before kissing you again. Your hands moved down to his pants. You started to undo the buckle while you took his bottom lip between your teeth lightly.
“You’re sure about this?” he asked again. It was pointless to ask. You’d already decided the moment you met him.
You nodded vigorously. “There’s a condom in my bag.” Philip stepped away and walked over to your bookbag and started to rummage through it. While he was busy, you stood up off of the desk. It was difficult to stay standing with this light-headed feeling. You unbuttoned your pants and pulled them down. Deciding to leave your underwear on, for now, you sat back on the desk. Philip turned around with a condom in his hand. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of you.
Philip walked over to you with determination. He grabbed your knees and pushed your legs apart. You bit your lip and watched as he pulled his erection out. Philip opened the condom and rolled it on. He hooked two fingers underneath your panties and pulled them to the side. He positioned himself at your entrance and teased you with his tip.
You rolled your eyes and dug your nails into the edge of the desk. Philip smirked and slid into you. You hooked your leg around his waist, letting him push deeper. You draped one arm across his shoulders and let your head fall forward onto him.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Great,” you breathed. “Keep going.” Philip rocked his hips gently as you adjusted to feeling him inside you, a feeling you’d needed for a long time. He gripped your thighs, letting his thumbs rest between them. He pushed you back and pulled you forward on the desk to meet his motions. You pushed your mouth against his chest to quiet your moans. It was late so you doubted anyone was nearby, but it was good to be careful. Your nails scratched the skin on his back. Philip groaned and moved faster. He brought his thumb up to his mouth and licked it before pressing it against your clit and moving it back and forth.
You threw your head back. “Oh fuck, oh Jesus, fuck yes. Jesus fucking Christ, right there.” Philip raised his eyebrows at you. You pushed sweaty hair out of your face. “You said I could swear in front of you.”
Philip smiled and ducked his head into the crook of your neck. Your hands splayed against his lower back. He bit into the skin on your shoulder. You moaned loudly. He was inside of you, on top of you, and all around you. All you could focus on was Philip as a fire burned deep in your abdomen. Your thighs started to quake uncontrollably. Philip lifted his head up and pressed his forehead against yours. You stared at him, your teeth gritting against the sensations you were feeling. You gripped his hips tightly, desperate to ground yourself. Philip pressed his thumb into your clit just a little harder, and it was enough for you to dissolve into pleasure.
Your body instantly became overly sensitive. Every movement and every caress doubled in intensity. Philip stilled inside you, giving you a break and opting to kiss your neck and chest instead. When your breathing was normal again and you’d come down from your high, he started to move inside you again, slowly at first but quickly building speed. You smiled and wrapped both of your legs around his waist. It wasn’t long before you felt pressure building in your abdomen again, and you could tell by his firm but quivering grip on you that Philip was feeling it too. You pulled him in for a kiss that caused shockwaves to course through you again. Philip moaned against your lips, and seconds later you felt him twitching inside of you, his warm cum spilling in.
You both lay there for a moment, breathing heavily and staring into each other’s eyes. The weight of what had just happened crashed around the both of you.
You had just slept with your professor.
#hamilton#hamilton imagine#imagines blog#Philip Hamilton#philip x reader#philip hamilton smut#philip hamilton x reader#philip imagines#philip hamilton fanfiction#philip hamilton imagine#Anthony Ramos#anthony ramos smut#professor!philip#hamilton college au
906 notes
·
View notes
Text
you’ve long seen your downfall spelled out in another’s bones
He’s going through an unconventional grieving process.
[oh man i forgot to crosspost this when i published it on ao3 whoops
title from the scorpio entry in september's Shitty Horoscopes, chapter xii: obituaries.
i've had this vaguely kicking around in my head since i first listened to the s3 finale. One of Them started it coalescing, and Dirty Work solidified it.]
The Maxwell Voice sounds angry this time she comes to visit, angrier than he's seen (heard) her in years, angry in the way she only used to get during that short slice of time between when she first judged him to be trustworthy and when she hadn't yet gotten used to Kepler's paternalism. Back then those rants had made him uncomfortable in ways he couldn't put into words, caught between needing to defend him (ingrained) and wanting to back her (honest), but now he'd pay good money for a reprise, awkward emotions and all. It's ironic that he can't stop noticing every grating thing about the colonel only now that she can't appreciate it, that he can't stop knowing exactly how she'd react to them, a derisive comment under her breath, a bombastic encore once they were alone. She was always better at mocking Kepler than he was, had a better grasp of his affected cadence even though she hadn't been working with him as long. (She was always better than him at a lot of things.) It's ironic. Isn't it?
It's something. Jacobi doesn't particularly care what.
The Maxwell Voice would be pacing if she weren't only a figment of his imagination. Since she is, he indulges the picture for thirty seconds or so: Alana Maxwell, animate and in one piece, stalking back and forth across the room (Magnanimously, he lets her have gravity.) like she's attacking the floor with her feet, gesturing wildly and explosively for emphasis on every other word. She was always so still and self-contained until she got really angry. It was a bit funny to watch, not that he'd ever admit it.
"Daniel Kenneth Jacobi," the Maxwell Voice says in a lethal hiss, "I swear on your duck-fearing soul, if you find Jesus because I kicked the bucket--"
"It's not finding Jesus." He doesn't have the energy to put as much scorn and sarcasm into the words as they deserve. "It's bargaining. Bargaining is one of the stages of grief, right?"
"Three years ago you told me the only real stages of grief are day-drinking and vehicular arson," she accuses.
"Of which I can do neither at the moment," he shoots back. "I'm branching out, okay? Get off my case, I'm trying to think."
"No, dumbass, you're trying to electrocute yourself in a pointless attempt to rewire the comms panel in your cell to broadcast outside the station so you can, what. Ask the aliens to pretty please with a cherry bomb on top air-mail you a new copy of your best friend because somebody was playing with the old one and she got broken? That's a terrible plan on so many levels, I don't even know where to start chewing you out for it."
"It's not a terrible plan," Jacobi mutters. The snapped-off end of his toothbrush makes a passable screwdriver as long as he goes slow enough that it won't break any further, but it's still a bit too thick. He's progressing through his fingernails for the smaller screws. Hopefully there's no more than ten between him and the circuitry, because both thumbs, an index finger, and a pinky are already ragged and weeping tiny flecks of blood.
"It is a terrible plan, and you know it, or else I wouldn't be here yelling at you!"
"If Eiffel can do this, so can I."
"Eiffel's an idiot savant. Eiffel's a level 100 bard who's spent his entire life dumping his EXP into the one skill tree. Eiffel usually has real tools."
"The aliens already popped out a Lovelace and a me. Zhang's ship from the seventies was fucking lousy with clones. This is possible."
"I don't need to enumerate the differences between the Tiamat mission and this one. Professor Kepler would've left them out of the lecture, of course, but you've known him long enough to hear what he isn't saying in the pauses between what he is. And you're absolutely right about Lovelace and you. They've got one of their own on board, and their attempts to load another didn't work, and they're not likely to waste more resources when one mouthpiece is already functioning just fine."
"Not even if I'm reeeally polite?"
"No, Daniel, not even if you're reeeeeeeaaaaaaally polite." Her eyeroll is audible. "This is an utter waste. I mean, God, at least wait until you've managed to steal a soldering gun."
"You wouldn't mind," he says, very, very quietly.
The Maxwell Voice is silent. The Maxwell Voice has not gone away. The silence is the message, and an extremely pointed one at that.
Too damn bad. If she didn't want him to say it, she shouldn't have died.
"You wouldn't mind," Jacobi repeats, slightly louder. "The captain's shaky now. Flinches at her own reflection. I hear you snorting every time I see her do that, you know? You wouldn't mind at all, not being human. Hell, it's practically something you wanted! All your knowledge, and your personality, and your thought processes, and the only thing you have to give up in exchange for being goddamn bulletproof is a few minutes of control every once in a while? I know you, Alana, I know you would have made that trade in a nanosecond, and you're not around anymore so the least I can do is make that trade for you!!"
His words rose to a shout near the end and it echoes off the metal, for you for you for you for you fading into nothing (like the nothing this is), and when the Maxwell Voice speaks up again she's gentle.
Her gentleness has always been so much worse than her anger.
"And that's what this is, isn't it? You, alone in a little box, praying for a miracle from a higher power. It's the same spirit--pun intended--as turning religious."
Two can play the pointed silence game, but Maxwell isn't actually here, she's just in his brain, and he hasn't been able to make his brain shut up since about an hour after he trapped himself on an experimental module for four days.
"I don't want that, Daniel. I don't want you grasping at straws. I don't want you living one moment to the next on the empty wish for a thing that only might be possible. It doesn't matter what I would have done. What I would have done stopped mattering sometime while I was tied to a chair with a gun in my face, and you know that. You also know what I did want, because I told you, and you remember."
Jacobi doesn't respond, but the words are trapped behind his teeth and his breathing has gone (close to a sob) unsteady and he's picking compulsively at a screw that refuses to budge.
She can wait him out. She's always been better at waiting than him, too.
"'Don't make a big deal out of it'," he recites dully. "Extraction out of that one job in Germany that went kind of south. We had seven hours to kill hiding in the train's luggage car. We hadn't slept in over a day and couldn't until we made it to the safehouse. You started talking to keep yourself awake, but then you went and got it frickin' notarized once we were back in the States. 'Don't make a big deal out of it. When I die, you get my stuff, and that's all. Blow up anything that's classified, sell the rest on craigslist, buy yourself a nice vintage grenade or something else equally dangerous and dumb.'"
"'Gotta stay on brand, don't I?'" the Maxwell Voice quotes with a teasing undercurrent, and this is-- he's imagining his dead best friend imitating his words from one conversation three years ago while tearing his fingernails to bloody shreds trying to open up a comms panel that he doesn't know how to adjust in a repurposed room on a broken-down space station seven point eight light years away from the planet where the conversation took place so he can beg some aliens to give him something that's sort of hopefully a little bit like what she used to be. It's ridiculous. It's stupid. It's not going to work. It hurts so fucking bad that he's almost grateful for the pain in his fingertips that stabs in time with his pulse.
That's what he said in Germany, dry and flat.
This is what he wanted to say, but didn't: You're not going to die.
This is what he wanted to say, but didn't: I won't let you die.
This is what he wanted to say, but didn't: I would rip the universe apart at the atomic level to get you back.
"There's no going back, Daniel," the Maxwell Voice says, and she's even gentler. "You know that. I knew that. I don't want you burying yourself in the past. I want your eyes open. Looking forward."
The petty obstinate part of him lashes out, what you want doesn't matter anymore now does it, but a much bigger part straightens up and says, Alright then.
Forward.
It is a god damn travesty that the person responsible for her death is still breathing the recirculated air in this universe where Alana Maxwell isn't. It's a waste, when you get down to it. Energy and oxygen, all spiraling down the drain at a steady rate of twelve to eighteen breaths per minute.
"Now there's the Daniel Jacobi I knew," the Maxwell Voice says slyly.
He could do something about that.
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Raven King, Chapter 8 – Epic Ass-Kicking, Pt 1: We Get Our Asses Kicked
In which – surprise! It’s Ravens vs Foxes Death Time™! Featuring: American colleges Doing Too Fucking Much, me thinking up crack AUs at the worst times, Kevandreil pulling some sweet (read: badass) moves, and Kevin being No 1 Proud Dad.
Sounds good? Then it’s time for Nicki to read The Raven King.
So, after the absolute sassfest two chapters ago and the gigantic dump of backstory last chapter, I thought this chapter would be a bit shorter, a bit more chill, a nice lil interlude before we get on with the fuckery again.
Well.
HO FUCKING BOY.
DOES NORA HAVE NEWS FOR ME.
October arrived without warning. Neil knew their match against the Ravens was coming up fast, but it still startled him when he realized they were already a week into the month. The game was only six days away.
Where did that come from.
Seriously, a few chapters ago Neil was still angsting about having to leave the Foxes after the Raven game, it seemed like the absolute end of the journey, and now it’s just… Here?
I AM NOT READY I DID NOT PREPARE WHAT IS HAPPENING.
To start this ride off, we are once again reminded of how fucking extra American colleges can be.
For real. They do not fuck around when it comes to school spirit.
Lawns are trimmed. Floors are scrubbed. Banners are hung from every square inch. Cheerleaders don’t sleep for days. Neither do bands. They have motivation parties. The mascot disturbs classes just to promote sportsball. They clean the fucking pond.
Seriously, these two pages read like the textbook definition of Doing Too Much.
Fucking chill.
Thursday was when Dan finally started to lose her cool. (…) Seeing people finally rally behind her and her team flustered her. She kept a brave face in front of the cameras, but she spent Thursday night in Matt’s bed.
My daughter :’(((((( you’re the best you’ll be fine don’t worry.
Hey, speaking of Doing Too Much: Remember when I was raving (hah) on about how Extra and Dramatic™ the Ravens were?
Kevin tried explaining Raven synchrony earlier this week, but Neil almost wished he could forget that story. (…) They were all enrolled in the same undergraduate degree and took their classes together in groups of three or four. They weren’t allowed to go anywhere without taking at least one teammate with them. They weren’t supposed to socialize with anyone outside the team.
What the actual fuck.
Why is Extra and Dramatic™ always paired with borderline abusive in this series. Why.
Their intense lifestyle, forced integration, and vicious punishments put them on a whole different scale than any of their opponents. They were, in short, the complete opposite of everything the Foxes knew and understood. Tonight’s game pitted a hive mind against a fractured bunch of rejects.
That last sentence is one of my favourite sentences in that book so far.
Also, what the actual fuck.
My dudes, I’m starting to get the sinking feeling y’all are getting your assess whooped big time tonight.
“Can you do this, Kevin?” Abby asked, searching his face for any sign he was okay. “Can you play?”
“If I am breathing, I can play,” Kevin said. “This is my game, too.”
Well, at least now we know what Tattooface McExtra over here is getting engraved on his tombstone.
If I am breathing, I can play, jesus fuck. My eyes are doing somersaults in their sockets right now.
“Neil, get at least five points or I’ll have you running marathons every month until graduation.”
Neil stared at him. “Five points?”
“You got four last week.”
“We weren’t playing Edgar Allan last week, Coach,” Neil said.
“Irrelevant,” Wymack said with a jerk of his hand.
Gotta love him. What a dude.
Wymack clapped his hands at his team until they fell in line.
“Let’s do this,” he said. “The sooner we kill these bastards, the sooner we can get roaring drunk at Abby’s place. I spent all damned morning stocking her fridge.”
GOTTA LOVE HIM. WHAT A DUDE.
#dicksoutforwymack
Neil looked up into a sea of orange. (…) [The Raven fans] had come in all black and took up an entire reserved section directly opposite the Foxes’ bench.
It is at this point that I have the idiotic realization that the Foxes and the Ravens together form the Wilde Kerle colours.
Why.
Why is my brain like this.
To all non-Germans reading this: Die Wilden Kerle (literally the wild guys/the wild bunch) is a German children’s book and film series about a ragtag football (meaning soccer) team. They are basically 10-year-old punks that stick it to the man, live and breathe football, and wear a lot of black and orange. They were huge around the time I was in elementary school and are probably the books that influenced me most as a child, aside from Harry Potter.
(The books were massively better than the films. Fight me.)
They look like this.
If anyone writes me a Wilde Kerle AU of TFC I will literally pay you in Ben & Jerry’s. No questions asked. This is the most bullshit AU idea I’ve had in a long time and it works.
Alright. Shut up, brain.
TIME TO FUCKING GO.
[The Ravens’ fight song] was a dark and heavy tune, an intimidating message of death and domination. The Ravens took their image seriously. Neil guessed they had a lot of intensive counseling in their futures.
Even in times like this, the Josten Sass™ cannot be tamed.
And they’re taking their spots, holy shit you guys, we’re actually doing this. I’m not ready.
[Riko] stopped at Kevin’s side. He took his helmet off, but the cheer echoing off the court walls drowned out whatever he was saying. Kevin unstrapped his own helmet and hooked it over his fingers as he answered.
What did they say, what did they say, I need to know.
I also have the feeling I’ll find out soon enough and I will not fucking like it.
That Fucker™ also hugs Kevin shortly before the game starts. I want to punch him.
Get your dirty abusive hands off my dramatic idiot.
Alright. Is it starting yet?
Neil closed his eyes and breathed. He locked away everything he was, burying his father and Nathaniel and the Moriyamas into a mental safe for later. (…) He wasn’t Neil right now. He wasn’t anything or anyone but a Fox, and he had a game to play.
IT’S FUCKING STARTING.
And from the beginning on, as expected, this game is not messing around.
Neil almost lost track of the ball as it shot between the Raven strikers. (…) Riko moved in a blur, and the goal lit up red. The buzzer sounded to signal the point and the crowd screamed. (…)
They were only two minutes into the first half; it was the fastest anyone had ever scored against Andrew.
Well – fuck.
Ain’t that motivating.
The Ravens have come to collect their aforementioned ass-whooping, I fear.
Riko wasn’t going back to the starting spot but was headed for Andrew. Andrew moved to meet him and they faced each other with just the goal line between them. Andrew waved off whatever Riko said to him with a careless waggle of his hand, but Riko didn’t leave.
Seriously, what is it with That Fucker™ and talking to my boys at the most inopportune moments?
Fuck off.
The game continues, and I take back everything I said about orange sportsball games earlier: I bloody love this. I can’t quote anything because it is just too much, but this time I am actually invested in the game and it’s thrilling.
I mean, the Foxes are so, so outplayed by the Ravens. But still. Exciting.
I have to quote one thing, though, because it is the most awesome thing anyone does this chapter:
It’s Episode 1 of Kevandreil Pull Badass Sportsball Shit Together!
It wasn’t against the rules for goalkeepers to leave their goals, but it was extremely ill-advised considering how big their goals were and how fast a ball could move. A goalkeeper only risked it in extreme cases. Apparently tonight was one of those nights.
Oh shit vas happening??
Neil only needed a second to realize Andrew was sending the ball to him, and his heart beat with savage triumph. (…)
All those long nights learning Raven drills had to pay off here. The perfect rebound wasn’t just about getting the ball to hit the right racquet; it was getting there at the right angle so Kevin wouldn’t have to aim. (…)
It was the same trick the Raven strikers had been pulling all night, but the Ravens weren’t ready to see it from Neil and Kevin. (…) The Raven goal lit up red when Kevin slammed the ball against it.
FFFFUUUUUUUCCCKKKKK YEEEAAAAAHHHHHHH.
Kevin’s smile was fleeting but fierce. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. It was the first sign of approval Neil had gotten from him since they’d met and Neil felt it like an adrenaline boost.
After that, the game turns violent pretty quickly – which my brain thought to comment on with a brilliant rendition of the Weather Girls while reading.
It’s raining cards, halleluhja!
And then, it’s over as fast as it begun and sadly, yet unsurprisingly, the Foxes get #owned, leaving them with a thirteen-six score. Which, you know, sucks because that’s a seven point gap and that’s also thirteen points on a bastion of a goal.
But which also fucking rules because hello, SIX POINTS against the absolute Douchemasters Of Exy™ themselves.
As Neil watched, Andrew leaned over to pick his racquet up. He tried, anyway. He only got it a foot off the floor before he lost his grip again.
It reminded Neil of their first practice together, when Neil almost blew his arms out playing against Andrew.
Shit, that seems like lifetimes ago. Has it really only been a few months?
Man, time flies when you’re busy with angst, drama, and gay shit. :’)
The Ravens had taken an incredible hundred and fifty shots on goal; it was unbelievable Andrew had only missed thirteen of them.
A FUCKING HUNDRED AND FIFTY.
Hello, I’d like to file a request to Andrew Joseph Minyard? I’d for him to formally LET ME LOVE HIM.
Nobody who doesn’t care about this game plays like this. Nobody. Don’t ever tell me Andrew doesn’t give a shit. He can’t move his arms anymore, for chrissakes.
Kevin, bless his idiot heart, knows exactly how to deal with the situation at hand:
“So,” Kevin said, “did you have fun?”
Andrew was too tired to put any heat in his words. “You are despicable, Kevin Day. I don’t know why I keep you around.”
Ma frickin BOYS. <3
Sadly, we are not left off the court to lick our wounds (with vodka, preferably) before That Fucker™ has added his irrelevant shitty commentary.
“I cannot thank you for tonight’s game because I can’t call this debacle a game. I thought I knew what to expect when we came here tonight, but I am still embarrassed on your behalf. You have fallen so far, Kevin. You should have stayed down and saved us the trouble of forcing you back on your knees.”
I was about to go into a rant about That Fucker™’s endless shittiness and lack of any sportsmanship – but! But!! BUT!!!!!
“I’m satisfied,” Kevin said.
UHMMM. What?
It was the last response any of the Foxes expected from him. They forgot about Riko in favor of gaping at Kevin. “Not with their score or performance, but with their spirit. I was right. There’s more than enough here for me to work with.”
MY DUDE. MY BOY.
I’M SO???????
Kevin ‘Stoic And Mighty’ Day finally praising his team and being proud of them nobody fucking tOUCH ME :’)))))))))
If Kevin finally grows into the No 1 Fox Dad he was destined to be (after Wymack obvs) I might actually light myself on fire.
Y’know. I’m, like, cool with all this.
Kevin only smiled, slow and sure and pleased, and offered Andrew a hand. Andrew looked at it, then at Kevin, and let Kevin haul him to his feet. Renee was ready when Kevin let go and looped her arms around Andrew in a fierce hug.
A HUG.
Renee you actual angel from the heavens, somebody finally gave this boy what I have been waiting for for chapters now – somebody hug that sad aggressive bean, and somebody did.
#hugsoutforandrew, this is the realest shit, get it trending, I’m not okay.
Is the irrelevant shitty Raven nuisance still there?
“One man cannot carry you that far,” he said, sounding torn between incredulity and disgust. “Even you are not stupid to believe that. You should give up now.”
It was a threat, not friendly advice, but Kevin said, “One is enough to start with.”
Okay. Okay.
Kevin Day, an anxious mess just two chapters ago, being openly threatened by his abuser and proudly sassing back right to his face, with the strength of his fierce ragtag team at his back.
This may be my favourite Kevin moment of this series so far.
That Fucker™ fucks off after that, and the Foxes are left for traditional post-game pep talk with grumpy dad Wymack.
“You should be pretty fucking proud of yourselves right now.”
“Proud of that mess?” Aaron asked, tired and annoyed. “We were destroyed.” (…)
“I’m proud,” Allison said, earning a startled look from Nicky and a half-smile from Wymack. She turned a condescending sneer on Aaron, looking more like herself than she had since Seth died. “This is only your second season with us. I wouldn’t expect you to understand what a game like this means.”
And welcome back, Allison! <333
Fucking finally. Nothing like a bit of good ol’ arch-enemy Exy smackdown to get over your dead boyfriend grief.
And to close things off, Wymack puts the cherry on top of all the good things that have happened this chapter:
“Starting next week everyone’s finally back in their proper spots. If you two can run a full game against Edgar Allan, you’re ready to take on the rest of the season alone. Everyone else: thank you for your patience and cooperation while Kevin and Neil got adjusted. Renee especially – you’ve been a damn good sport this year. Welcome back to goal.”
YEAAHH BOOOOIIIII.
Nicki happy. Nicki out.
If you like what I do here and you want to help me continue writing, please consider buying me a coffee! Thank you so much <3
#nicki reads tfc#trk#aftg#tfc#nora sakavic#the raven king#all for the game#the foxhole court#yall I'm not okay
92 notes
·
View notes