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finelookinsnailhorse · 1 year ago

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Ted the Caver's cave

I know which cave the story is referring to.

"Butter's cave" in the north of England.

It has a questionable listing and has for a while.

It is apparently very difficult to find.

The opening is surrounded by vegetation.

Said vegetation forms a mat over the opening.

This happens annually if not tampered with.

Said mat is strong enough

to hold an average person's weight.

This is even the case if you hop on one foot.

I wouldn't want to be the person that tested that.

It does however give more than the floor around it.

That's because the mat around the hole rests on hard rock.

It's sat a couple of steps away from a steep slope.

Said slope is due to the recession of a small waterfall.

Long ago there used to be an entrance under the waterfall.

Over many years the small falls eroded into the hill.

This collapsed that entrance

under a sizeable amount of gravel.

People did think of digging out the gravel.

But the trough the falls cut into the hill is too narrow.

Any vehicle that could reach the gravel pile

wouldn't be able to carry that much gravel each trip.

The discovery of the hole just a few yards away

took away the need.

Due to the vegetation's nasty habit

of repeatedly covering the hole

the cave has become both listed

and unlisted simultaneously.

Unofficial records had documented it

but by the time officials looked for it

many years later

the mat over the hole had become so dense

the officials just signed it off as a hoax

and they haven't gone back to check since

several

decades.

talk about incompetence.

this creates a little dilemma though.

high quality professional divers dismiss it outright.

they don't want to bother chasing

a well documented hoax.

that means those that do bother

are usually thrill seeking idiots.

not the kind of people who really should be diving into

a cave with no official documentation nor hazard status

the cave itself is fairly unremarkable.

it's very wet but the cave sticks mostly near the surface.

since it's on a hill above the water table it doesn't flood.

the rock beneath is large horizontal slabs

not unlike paving but much wider and deeper pieces.

this is a vein of harder rock than the surroundings

a similar one makes the roof where the hole to enter is.

year ago the lobby space was tight and full of loose rock.

some smart people realised this had risk of cave in

so they dug away the loose rock leaving a small open space

said space is not unlike a monk hole

this has lead to rumours of it being one in the past

but unfortunately the dome shape is not that old

it was cut out with heavy machinery for convenience

those that did it had intended it to be a gift shop of sorts

following the natural tunnel it goes into the hill

and runs parallel to

the one that was found under the waterfall.

needless to say far enough in it eventually connects to it.

it's rather a professional looking tunnel

more impressive than the ones that lead of of it

it seems mostly gothic in origin

though it's more like a basement

people expect this grand tunnel to lead somewhere

only to be disappointed

when it doubles back into the parallel tunnel

and leads them straight into a wall of gravel

it's believed that a castle or something akin to one

was intended to be built at the top o the hill

if the tunnel went further

it would have eventually been underneath it

the falls was probably some sort of

romantic aesthetic official entrance

certainly back in the day

it's hardly like it would have been hidden

it would have stuck out like a sore thumb

you would be able to see it for miles

the side tunnel is probably a servants entrance

that would have been used for supplies

back in the day it would have been obscured by trees

and there still exists stone steps leading down the hill

on the far side from the grand entrance

out of sight, out of mind.

when they must have dug the tunnel out

they exposed other more natural tunnels

these lead away from the main structure

though some extend through the dividing wall

between the two gothic tunnels

they have been filled with stones.

if they weren't

you could practically wave at people in the other tunnel

it's only a few yards apart

certainly you can hear each other on the other side.

the tunnels leading away

generally follow the circumference of the hill.

this lead idiots to think they were carved out

no, it's because the hill

has concentric rings of alternating rock

softer rock gets worn away by erosion leaving a cave

and by the way these tunnels are very very wet.

some of these tunnels like the side entrance hole

lead to parts where

small pieces of the floor vein have fallen away

this takes you down into the next level

this level is not as soft rock as the one above

so the erosion here doesn't make such open tunnels

they stick somewhat circle the hill however

there's essentially a broken up outer ring

and a more consistent inner ring

where the water intrusion is more prevalent

thus more clear erosion.

the inner ring at points branches into

the broken sections of the outer ring

outer sections appear to have t junction shape

when entering from the inner one

people thing that either means they lead somewhere

not just 2 feet into a rock wall

or that they are manmade somehow

it's just a product of erosion

against rings of different density rock

follow the inner ring for a bit

and there's another hole in the ground

you're about one storey above

the height point of the water table here

here's where you find

the hole those guys were digging in the story

to be honest you can still hear the motorway traffic here

so i don't know what the story is talking about.

it's a cave with about 3 storeys of height

it has signs of being carved out by cavemen at some point

it appears there was a suitable wall for cave paintings

but unfortunately erosion has lead to

the walls being washed with water

which has wiped them clean

there are handprints to the side of the water stream

but it's not really in good enough repair

to be able to tell if they aren't a modern addition

certainly it already looked this way

at the time the creepy story was written

so maybe they just used it for inspiration.

the rest of the cave if fairly unremarkable.

there's a tunnel that leads away on the far side.

that tunnel however

has proved to be far too flooded to be explored.

the floor of the cave used to be covered in grit and mud

since the water drains through cracks in the slabs

people used to think there was a tunnel under the floor

and that it was filled with gravel

nope, it was dug out recently

just more boring slabs.

no sign of any large boulder anywhere.

there are enough small holes

in all the walls of the open space

that strong drafts flow into the entrance tunnel.

they also make a howling noise as they do.

when the water table rises high enough

their route to the surface is cut off and it goes quiet.

it's believed that the flooded tunnel eventually joins up

with another flood cave on the other side of the hill.

at some point

it was probably the main entrance into the cave

back at the inner circle

there are other tunnels that lead away

to say they're uncharted is a bit of no-brainer

none of the cave is charted officially

information on the cave

is therefore spread across multiple sources

so far all i've said is what's repeated across most of them

those other tunnels though

we have conflicting reports of their design.

for a diver that's worth their salt

that's prime do not touch territory

i'm not stupid enough to mess around and find out

i'll leave that to someone else to discover

the reason they're mostly undocumented

is because they are narrower than the other tunnels

this is where most people with sense would turn back

that also means

nobody has documented whether they're safe or not

considering all the grit and gravel around

i'd rather not chance getting buried thanks.

#creepypasta fandom #ted the caver

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hazbincalifornia · 2 years ago

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Thought of this exercise, but you know a lot about a character from their room, right? I can't draw it, but here are some of mine at about age 14-15.

Stella: Purple walls. Cluttered, but has some sense of order to it if you're her. Shelves and shelves full of seemingly random shit. An entire one is devoted to stolen diaries and journals, mostly from IMP targets, and another has jewelry in a little display case. (That one has gifts from Stolas on top and stolen stuff on the bottom.) One of them has a jar of teeth that keeps getting bigger. Posters of random Hell celebrities hanging around, including one of Alastor and another of the Morningstar family. (Charlie has hearts doodled around her from when Stella was younger.) Always smells kind of weird from the human stuff, but she keeps perfume around to spritz in case it gets too bad even though usually she doesn't even notice. Canopy bed with stars/moon on the comforter/sheets, as well as glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to her ceiling. Full-length mirror across from her bed.

Aster: Blue walls. Has a lot of research notes pinned to a board on his wall that he's constantly scribbling on, conspiracy-theorist style. Has several plants in pots on dressers or shelves, as well as one that's rooted in a corner of the ceiling that he spritzes with water and blood every other day. Bed is almost never made, and it's a matching blue to his walls, although he does have red pillows with a horseshoe pattern on them. Has a stash of candy in a box underneath his bed for when he doesn't want to bother going down to the kitchen. Has a large painting of his family on the opposite wall of his research.

Clove: Red walls. Has a similar 'collection' setup as Stella, but has less stuff that gets displayed more carefully as individual pieces. Has a collection of weird or cool playing card art that he has carefully set up in shadow boxes. One shelf has animal skulls/bones gifted from Hazel that he rearranges every so often. Got a bedspread with the Morningstar family symbol on the middle of it from Charlie once when he got sick on his old one and burnt a hole through it from a magic incident, and it was comfy enough he just never gave it back. Has a big comfy arm chair in the corner.

Hazel: Light purple walls. Has one of those hammock net things that's full of stuffed animals. Multiple shelves are devoted to bones/skulls/miscellaneous parts from both Sinners and Earth animals, many of which have been repurposed for either art or jewelry. Has a pirate-themed bedspread with skull and cutlasses for crossbones, and one horse-head pillow that was a gift from Grandpa. Room always smells faintly of sugar, copper, and formaldehyde. Has a matching chair to Clove's- there's actually a spell on it that allows them to take the cushion out and poke their head into each other's rooms.

Annie: Light gray walls with blue and red accents. Giant map of Hell that takes up most of one wall, with parts she's visited and parts she'd like to visit again marked off with a color key about her feelings about them. Keeps journals full of stories from sinners who lived through historical events. Bedspread looks pretty much identical to Clove's. Has a small doll collection, rotating out one to sit on her dresser and talk to every few weeks. Typically looks pretty neat, but that's because she shoves most of the mess on the side of the bed opposite the door and tosses it all in a bin to give to Niffty every other week.

#maybe I'll do one for the others later but I wanted to try the 'mainverse' kids #this was fun!#stella #aster #clove #hazel #annie #daddy blitzo #shadow says stuff #shadow writes stuff

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cartierbin · 4 years ago

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could i get 16 with chan and eating you out 🥵🥵

thank you for requesting baby

『 16. “fuck, you like that, don’t you?”.

pairing — chan x reader

genre — smut , movie day cuddling with chan gone wrong

word count — 1.289k 』

smut under the cut !

with overbearing hours and numerous work tasks to fill them it was safe to say that you and chan worked your absolute asses off that week. the both of you were barely home and when you were, it was much too late to do much of anything and it mostly resorted to eating a small dinner and going directly to bed. but it was a rainy weekend finally. you and chan had slept so much on your off day that you thought it was pretty comical how you both woke up at the same time that dreary saturday afternoon.

with the rain beating against every window in your apartment and thunder wavering in the darkened skies, you thought today would be more than a perfect day to finally relax and watch a film. Chan was quite excited about it also and suggested that you two watch a movie that was actually interesting. alas, the both of you settled on a marvel movie and collected blankets and snacks to sit on the couch with. the living room was dark and the size of your shared plasma tv was so inviting, your living room was quite a comfy feel especially on rainy days like this. chan was grateful for being able to spend it with you and it was quite obvious, he hadn’t unwrapped his hands from around your body ever since the movie started. you didn’t mind because he was warm and to be frank, you missed him. his head fell into the crook of your neck before he perched it up instead.

“baby I missed you. I feel like I haven’t saw you at all this week”, he admitted into the space between his face and yours. you take your eyes off the screen and instead play with his crinkly messy hair with a pout of agreement. “aw I missed you too. our work schedules were insane. but it’s alright I’m happy we get to spend time together finally”. you smiled lightly and chan did the exact same, leaning in for a small peck on your lips. once you both pulled away chan felt a tinge of disappointment at the lost. The delicacy of your lips made him realize that not only has he not been seeing you as often as he’d like but he realized he wasn’t touching you either. his eyes fall over your features, your neck was vacant. he remembered on your normal weeks he left with at least a couple of hickies from the day before. but this week your skin was free of evidence from his ministrations and he wholeheartedly felt guilty.

he pulls you closer and you think it was just a loving gesture. which it was, only chan wanted to make sure your body was in reach. he starts off latching his lips to the skin of your cheek while cupping the other with one hand, brushing his tongue along the underside of your neck. you threw your hand on Chan’s thigh with a small sigh of delight and shock. you could feel his teeth grazing ever so slightly over the tender flesh of your neck, gifting you a sanctuary of hickies and marks that you knew you’d never be able to cover. your heart sank when the both of you exchanged heated gazes for a swift moment — the moment right before he slipped his hands underneath your shirt and toyed with your nipples while sticking his tongue in your mouth. you approved it’s entrance and started sucking on it a little, a move that chan was quite fond of. his tiny groans of need were the cause behind the moisture and heat in between your legs.

he cups his hand over your clothed pussy and massages it while his lips overlapped yours, entrapping you in a sequence of saliva filled kisses that left you thoughtless for a while. he could feel you subtly grinding into the palm of his hand in need of more friction for your aching bud. “oh my god I’ve been such a bad boyfriend to you— your pussy hasn’t been devoured in days”. he spoke in a hushed tone between kisses. you whine a little at the thought, chan spoiled you with many things and frequent oral sex was one of them. it was a shame really, how long it’s been since you felt his lips on your pussy.

he wasted no time lying your body down on the couch and wrestling your pants and panties off tossing them across the room. you breathed and spread your legs wide so he could see how puffy and wet it was just for him. just for his mouth. just for his tongue. he grips the creases of your thighs and pulls you downward closer to his face. he lowers himself hovering over it just enough to gather saliva between his cheeks and spit a thick line of it over your sopping wet folds. he lowered himself yet again to clean up his mess, eyes giving a death glare to the chubby clit that was peaking up from your spongy hood. your back arches off the couch a bit at the immediate feeling of Chan’s soft lips against your most sensitive parts and the way his nose nuzzled against your pubic mound. no matter how much he ate you his mouth could never get old.

you worked your hands through his hair with the movie not even having a place in your mind anymore. Chan’s thick lips were framed deliciously against your folds, lapping up his mess made even more of a mess as gushes of slick extenuated from your hole. chan made it his mission to taste every crease, nook and cranny he could get to. your pussy was his playground and he never got tired of playing. he flat tongues the whole glistening organ, a pretty mixture of his saliva and your own juices leaking to your inner thighs. you wiggle your hips a bit and whine, throwing a hand back to grip the arm of the couch behind you. “fuck channie”. but chan never talked much during this, it was his art after all. instead he lets his tongue do the talking, sucking on the bundle of nerves just beneath your hood. chan could die like this. small satisfied groans bubble from his throat while he devours the throbbing little organ ahead of him. god chan wanted to die just like this.

the room was practically sweltering in the moment and the moist folds of your pussy was so raw and hot against Chan’s mouth. your breathy whimpers hitched their way out into the surrounding air and you rut your hips against his mouth unable to get enough. chan parts the petal lips with his hand, revealing the inner parts that begged for his attention also. upon sight he spits yet again and dug his tongue into your hole, everything sticky and adequately warm. you squirmed above him with your chest heaving in absolute bewilderment, he always devoured you as if you were the last meal he’d ever have. “channie! fuck—fuck I’m going to cum in your mouth”. your cries stroke his ego and it’s just what he needed to delve his tongue deeper into you without a care in the world for how much you could take. the finger shaped bruises he was making in your skin due to his strong grip had began to hurt, and the slurping noises overpowered the sounds from the television, unbearably obscene. the way you cried above him made him impossibly hard but he refused to touch himself during this. he loved making this moment strictly for you and his own enjoyment. you sob, vaguely recognizing the tears that were cascading down your cheeks. the pleasure overwhelming you and making you see white, an orgasm settles deep in your belly and the need to cum surpassed anything else. your pussy contracted as he continuously tongue fucked you, he was going to make you cream all over his tongue as if his life depended on it.

“fuck, you like that don’t you? you’re so fucking cute when you shake on my face like this”.

#chan smut #bangchan smut #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #skz imagines

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gucciwins · 4 years ago

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it’s your birthday?

As luck would have it you once again find yourself in a breakout room with Harry

Word count: 3296

A/N: Hello friends, it’s a new semester and it felt only right to continue breakout room, a story that was well loved by you. The inspiration once again came to me during class and also because it’s Harry’s birthday. Thank you to the lovely @soullikestyles for reading this over. Here it is, enjoy!!!

I hope you love this, it is a continuation from Breakout Room

Please shoot me a message of what you thought!!!!

i love you, take care xx

_____

It's the start of a new semester. It's safe to say you did not make any friends last semester due to this ongoing pandemic, but what you did manage to get was a 3.9 G.P.A for the Fall semester. It was probably because you did not leave your apartment, and when you did, it was to go grocery shopping with your roommate, who would be dead without you because, as she liked to put it, you're the chef, and she's the taster.

Well, you maybe did make one friend.

Harry Styles.

He was the person to talk to you during a zoom breakout room in your women's gender studies course.

Sure, you were never in the same room again, but you might or might not have pinned his face during one of the professor's long ramblings that is no longer related to the course.

He was pretty to look at; you would never deny that.

No, with the floppy curls that he almost always seemed to run his hand through, then stopping when one of his rings got caught in a knotted ringlet. His camera would instantly turn off, and in thirty seconds, he was back as if nothing had happened. The glasses framed his face just right, making his eyes look soft and inviting. Also made his dimples stand out. He almost always wore a different colored cardigan. Your favorite from the semester was when he wore a multicolored cardigan. That looks like it was knitted; there was a hole by his heart. Honestly, you were hoping he had, would have made him even more endearing.

Also, might one day ask him to make you one, or he could even teach you. You're a fast learner and have patience.

He's got a great choice in clothing from what you was able to observe in such a short time—also a lovely personality.

After his initial email, you decided to answer, thus creating a chain of messages back and forth. He was honestly funny, and that was just on paper. He had asked for her number and said no, and he respected that. It doesn't mean they never helped each other in the class; Harry asking for more help than Y/N. She sent him over her notes and explained the readings he found harder to grasp.

As soon as finals week hit, she received her last email from him with the subject as Goodbye. It took you by surprise, and you erased the draft you had waiting for him that had your phone number wanting to keep talking to him. Still, clearly, he thought of them as just classmates for the semester, so without even opening his last email, you trashed it.

You felt guilty about it, so you then transferred it to your archives, where it sits with other unwanted emails.

_____

The holidays are over, and since you could not make the trip home, you celebrated with Amy, your roommate. You both help each other buy your family's presents, looking for the best discounts and adding extra items to get the free shipping. Together, well, mostly you as she handed you pieces of tape you wrapped present after present in brown wrapping paper. It was harder to tear and more comfortable to decorate in any way you wanted. On each box, it had everyone's name written in beautiful handwriting, courtesy of you. Then you would add snowflakes or stripes to make it stand out.

It was a success from their looks when each gift was open through the zoom call.

The month break flew by, and the next thing you knew, it was time to be back at your desk for hours of learning. It was fun until it wasn't sure there was a lot to look forward to, but you would miss sleeping all day and eating snacks in bed with no fear of forgetting to submit an assignment.

This semester you had four major courses. Psychology of Personality and Psychology of Aging were the two courses you were most looking forward to. You decided on taking the women's gender studies class called Politics of Sexuality. You had gotten the recommendation from the department's head to take it and did so without a second thought. Yes, fifteen units was a lot, but you were close to graduating, and you knew you could handle it.

The first week flew by because it was merely going over the syllabus. You had your camera on, but you did not bother to look at your other classmates. Sasha, a fellow person in your major, would be your study partner as she had been all semester. Sasha might not always be in the class section, but she did take the same professors and courses. It makes studying and taking notes easier. You know you won't always have Sasha, but having a study partner has ever made you do better.

February 1st. The start of the second week of the semester.

You woke up at seven, got the tea that Amy had ready for you, and were sitting at your desk by eight. Your professor droned on about the first chapter of the book. You felt confident knowing you understood the significant points.

It's 11:30, and your second course of the day is going to start. You were not looking forward to the class simply because Dr. Rossi had warned you he would be putting you into breakout rooms of two. That person would be your partner for the semester. You had a project due at the end of the semester, and he wanted you to be acquainted with someone rather than having a person working alone.

You sat there, Baby Yoda ceramic mug in hand, as you waited for your breakout room to load and to see who you were destined to work with for the next fourteen weeks.

There was a knock on your door that distracted you from seeing the video of someone else load.

"Sorry, I know you're in class, but I was wondering when lunch was to see how big of a snack I should have." Amy shoots you a small smile.

"No worries, Ames, I'm out at 12:45 and will need half an hour to cook, so roughly 1:30. Is that okay?" You tell her feeling a little awful, making her wait.

"It's perfect. Have a good class." Amy shuts the door.

As you hear the click, you turn back to your computer, and they're staring at you in a lavender cardigan with a white shirt underneath is the one and only Harry Styles.

His curls are shorter, meaning he recently got a haircut, and they are just growing back. You wished he had let it grow out, wanting to see how much more ruly they would have gotten.

You feel your face heat up, remembering you did not do your hair, instead of letting it sit messily in a low ponytail, small hair framing your hair. You were sure the black sweatshirt you had one had a hummus stain but too afraid to look down to check. You weren't even aware he was in this class; it shows you should be paying attention more to your classmates.

He shoots you a small smile, and you grimace, trying to force one out, but you're still a bit shocked.

You see his microphone go white, meaning he was about to speak. You leaned forward in anticipation, a bit desperate to hear his smooth accent through your computer speakers.

"Hello, it's been a while." Harry raises his glasses to hold back his hair.

You reach forward and unmute yourself. "Hello, Harry. It has been a while. It's a new year and everything." You joke.

He chuckles, scratching his chin. You aren't sure what to do; it was never this awkward the first time you chatted.

"Guess we're partners, huh."

"Apparently." You sigh, a bit loud, forgetting he can hear you.

"Ouch, don't need to sound too excited." He tells you not at all hiding his frown.

"No, I didn't." You stop not knowing how to go back from that. "Sorry, that was rude of me."

He nods, not saying anything more, and you take it as a sign to continue.

"I-i, well, after our last class ended, I figured that was that. You said goodbye in the last email, so I figured that was the end of our friendship, if you can even call it that."

"I thought my email would give the opposite impression, but not everything can translate as smoothly when talking." He tells you, which causes you to pause.

"Your email literally said goodbye," You blurt out before you can stop yourself.

He hides his smile, "My subject said goodbye, the content said quite the opposite. You did read it, right?"

You duck your head, not allowing yourself to meet his eye even through a computer screen, too embarrassed to be caught. "Well, no, I didn't. Hurt my feelings, just seeing the goodbye." You look up and see his eyes soften, giving you just a bit more courage to continue. "I've always struggled to make friends, I have like three good friends, and it's hard putting myself out there, and I didn't actually if you considered me a friend or not."

"Y/N" He breathes out your name.

You stop him before he can continue. "Do you mind if I read it now?"

Harry shakes his head.

You restore down the zoom and open up your Gmail on the split-screen. You find it reasonably quickly; you look up at him to see him patiently sitting back chipping at his nails. They are a pastel yellow; it makes you smile, knowing just yesterday you went from that color to a deep red.

[email protected]

Subject: Goodbye

Y/N,

It's been enjoyable emailing back and forth. I honestly would not have passed this class without you. I think you are brilliant and if I had you in every course, I would finish with A's in them all. So, thank you for having the patience to teach me.

Also, thank you for being my friend. I know we mostly talked about school work. Still, you did help me decide on what coat to buy for my sister, so I know that makes us friends, and I did help you get that switch for your little brother. (That was like trying to buy floor tickets for Lady Gaga.)

On another note, after emailing for twelve weeks, I was wondering if I could have your number. I would like the chance to give you a call and formally ask you on a date. I know we're in the middle of a pandemic, and dating is hard, but we can do zoom dates before we try in person.

I understand if it's a no, but I am really grateful to have met you.

Your friend (although I do want to try to be more)

Harry Styles

City Pointe Apt 32 (in case you want to send a care package, I would gladly return the favor)

"Oh, Harry," You inhale, "I'm so sorry."

"No worries." He shrugs.

You pause, thinking your next words. "I live in Rose Villa." Those were not the words you wanted to say, but you don't take it back.

"That's across the street from my building." He gasps. "We could have run into each other."

You nod. "Small world."

Harry brings his focus back to something you skipped over. "I realize you didn't mention the part of asking you on a date."

"Oh, I figured you over that now. It's been well over a month since I ignored your email." You grimace, starting to feel awful about it all over again.

"I guess it was email abandonment this time." He jokes.

You laugh, and it gets Harry laughing as well. He was always good at that, making you laugh and not be so serious even if he didn't know it.

"Y/N," Harry's voice was strong, no signs of laughter in his trace. You lock eyes as best you can through a computer screen. "I would still very much like to take you on a date."

A date with Harry.

You want to say yes, but it's like you're frozen.

"Can I say something else before you give me an answer?" You nod, waiting for him to go on. "Sarah Jones, do you know her?"

Sarah Jones, you rack your brain trying to place her.

The theater composer. She's written original tracks for the theatre department for the original plays they've done and remakes. She's won countless awards.

Sarah even won the talent show. Played a killer drum solo that no one else could ever think of topping.

If you're honest, she's the definition of your girl crush.

"We follow each other on social media. We met at a paint night; she was really easy to talk to." You tell him, remembering how sweet she was to you when she saw you walk in, and just as you were about to walk out, she introduced herself to you, asking to sit with you.

He nods. "Sarah is my roommate's girlfriend. Mitch and Sarah practically live together; he's so in love with her it truly is the sweetest thing. Back to the point, she overheard me talking about you to Mitch and spoke how she knew you. Then I proceeded to stalk your Instagram on her account. I hope that's not weird."

You laugh, and it causes Harry to calm down, "Not weird at all. I would have done the same thing, but as you can see, I rarely upload anything."

"Well, the things you do have, I think, are wonderful." He rambles on explaining how your beach photo on a bike with a pretty pink basket was one of his favorites and how cute you look wearing sweaters.

As endearing as Harry was being, you decided to put him out of his misery. "Harry," you interrupt.

"Yes."

"I'd love to go on a date with you."

"You would?" He gasps in surprise.

"Yes."

"That's fantastic. I think this is the best birthday gift I could have received." He tells you, but you're stuck on the last thing he said.

"It's your birthday?"

Harry smiles sheepishly. "Yes."

"Happy Birthday, Harry." You tell him softly, a big smile on your face.

A blush overtakes his face; you can tell he wishes to cover up his face with hands but holds back from doing so. "Thank you."

"Do you have any plans?"

"No, well. Mitch and Sarah are coming over for lunch in a bit. Then they are off to study at Sarah's for the week. Her roommates are gone for the week."

You frown, not liking that he'll spend the rest of his birthday alone.

"Would you-never mind" You stop yourself from being able to invite yourself over to celebrate with him?

"Hey, it's okay. Whatever you wanted to say, I wouldn't judge you, love." His voice was soft and reassuring.

"Well, I'd love to come over and hang out with you if that's okay. I can make us dinner, I make delicious enchiladas. Also, my carrot cake is to die for."

Harry is surprised at her offer but nods his head quickly. "That sounds wonderful, but you don't have to cook for me. We can order takeout."

She shakes her head. "Consider it my gift to you."

"Well, okay. Is six okay for you?" He bites his lip, not believing this is happening.

"Perfect."

You sit there smiling at each other.

When a message pops up overhead, "You have five minutes left before we join back as a group."

Your eyes go wide, having forgotten you were in class. "We didn't even discuss the assignment."

Harry shakes his head in laughter, a smile spreads over your face. He has an adorable laugh that just rings through your ears, and you can't wait to hear it in person.

"We've got time, now that it seems we'll be getting to know each other better."

You relax, settling a bit, you have weeks before the assignment is due.

"I'll email you my number, love. Easier to communicate for later."

"Sounds great." You respond.

_____

It's five-fifty, and you're standing outside his door. You're more than a little nervous. You're wearing high waisted jeans paired with a black off the shoulder top with floral embroidered sleeves. You decided against a sweater knowing the short walk would keep you warm enough. Your mask is red, with three small hearts stitched on the lower right side. Perfect for February.

You shift the items in your hand to the right and lift your hand up to knock. After three gentle knocks, you hear footsteps and take a step back.

"Hi," Harry breathes out, a big smile on his face.

"Hello, Harry, happy birthday."

"Thank you." He smiles wide, blessing you with his dimples. Definitely look better in person. "Please come in." He grabs some of the items from your hand and allows you to step in before locking the door behind you.

"Your mask is lovely. Did you make it?"

"I did!" You share excitedly. "My roommate, Amy, and I spent lots of our free time making a different kind. We took old shirts we no longer wanted and used for the material. It was a lot of trial and error, but we're pretty solid at it now. My embroidery could use some work, but I think it's lovely.

"It really is. Would you make me one?" He asks, staring at you as you pocket your mask. No longer needing it in his home.

"Yes, I'll send you pictures of the fabric I have, or you could come over, and I can teach you as well." You tell him, excited at the prospect.

"Sounds like a wonderful date." You nod, feeling your body get warm at the word date because today could also classify as a date.

Harry knocks you out of your head when calling your name. "Turned the oven on like you requested." He informs you.

"Thank you, my mom showed me how to make them, but I learned about the melted cheese on my own. She wasn't a big fan of it, but everyone else I know loves it, so I hope you will as well."

Harry grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze. "I'm sure it's wonderful." He bumps your shoulder gently. "Go finish up; I'll set the table."

He pushes you into the kitchen, and you go in and place your stuff. Harry is whistling, settling down on the table two glasses and two forks when you turn back around towards him.

Harry turns around just in time for you to wrap your hands around his waist. You fit perfectly in his arms, taking in his musky scent. "Happy birthday, Harry." You whisper against his chest.

He squeezes you tighter, leaning his head on top of yours. "Thank you, love."

He pulls back, holding you by your shoulders. A big smile on his face, you reciprocate it feeling his happiness warm your heart.

"Run along now; I'm starving." He jokes.

You walk backward, creating distance; as his left-hand trails down your right hand slowly until he's touching your fingertips, do you pull away. Although you, more than anything, wanted to hold his hand. You want to feel the weight of it in yours; you want to know if his hands are soft or calloused. How cool his rings will feel against your palm. All in due time.

"I'm happy to be here."

"Me too, love. Me too."

It's safe to say you were more than luckily going to have yourself a valentine for the first time in a long time.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #fluff #harry styles fluff #zoom university #zoom online #harry styles writing #harry styles uni #my writing #harry styles fanfic

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bahorell · 3 years ago

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Les Amis (& co.) and the stuff they have on their walls

Enjolras: Pictures of his friends. I loved this idea so much I had to expand on it so it’s the shortest paragraph here but he’ll have his own post in a couple days I PROMISE

Combeferre: He has framed bugs!!! They are mostly moths but he also has some really rare expensive beetles that he’s gotten for Christmas. One winter break when he really had nothing going on he did a bunch of research on what all of the bugs were and has little hand-written pieces of paper taped to the wall underneath the bugs with all the info like a little MUSEUM OMG it’s literally the cutest thing. And if you’ve never been to his place before he makes you pick which one if your favorite.

Courfeyrac: Has a bunch of plants all over the walls. They’re so big that he has nails in the walls and any vining plants he’ll hang the vines on the walls so they look like they’re crawling up the walls. He also strategically places big plants like any trees he has or Monsteras in corners or next to dressers. He really doesn’t like putting too much stuff on his walls because he thinks it’s a lot of commitment. He doesn’t really have a lot of printed pictures of his friends and he doesn’t really have enough art to fill a wall space without making it look awkward.

Joly: Joly is one of those really really cool guys that glues and frames all of the puzzles he finishes. Every time he goes somewhere he’s never been before he’ll go into a little tourist shop and buy the biggest puzzle he can find (the more pieces the better). There’s a separate table in the living room that he sits at and works on his puzzle at while he watches Grey’s Anatomy. He’s always rearranging things because he likes everything to have a you know that feng shui so his walls have a bunch of nail holes in them. He’s also quickly running out of wall space because now his friends have started gifting him puzzles as well.

Jehan: Jehan LOVES to collect calendars! But not just like… monthly calendars. They have moon phase calendars, lunisolar calendars, a really really cool mayan calendar replica, a roman calendar, seasonal calendar for things like when to plant and harvest fruits and veggies!, a crystal calendar, a japanese calendar… They really like to look at how different things look from different perspectives. The months look different on a seasonal calendar than they do on a “standard” calendar. It reminds them that they have more control over their time than they think they do. Bousset: Movie posters!!!! He has posters of all his favorite movies but he really is a sucker for the movie posters that are in a retro style. He tries to make sure to buy frames for all of the posters he has because he doesn’t want them to get ruined. He’s scared not only because he has bad luck but because all of his friends are slobs and if they come over you know someone is going to somehow get beer or lasagna on the wall and some of the posters were like limited edition and he CANNOT have them ruined. He also dusts them p regularly.

Feuilly: Feuilly collects but also makes a bunch of wood art that he is very proud of. Usually when he makes something he’ll keep the first draft of it since it isn’t polished enough for him to feel like he can try to sell it. It’s not very often he can find Purple Heart stuff but when he does he really struggles to say no if it’s out of his budget. Also he has a few pieces of moss art that he ADORES

Bahorel: Collects a bunch of small random things that he finds. Pretty much he thinks if he CAN hang it on a wall that he SHOULD hang it on a wall. There’s art pieces, cards he’s gotten from people, business cards that have a cute design on them, he has a shit ton of command strips that hang things like lanyards, his go-to jackets for easy access, his towel when he doesn’t feel like walking back to the bathroom to hang it up after he’s showered. He also has like 5 sets of mini battery powered string lights that he leaves on whenever he’s not sleeping (he spends a lot of money on batteries)

Grantaire: His walls kinda work as his sketchbook when he’s home. He’s found that sometimes working on a vertical surface instead of a horizontal surface helps get the gears turning in his head. It makes him a little frustrated sometimes because he’ll have a whole piece that’s done on one of his walls and then he basically has to repeat yet and put it back on paper but it doesn’t feel the same. Since his walls are pretty much a free-for-all, all of the amis have painted something on them at some point. He tries not to paint over those spots but sometimes he has to.

Marius: Marius has a bunch of shadow boxes of stuff. Most of them are antique items like he has a shadow box that has about 50 unused boxes of matches that are from all over the world, he has a shadow box of antique flies for fly fishing. He’s never fly fished before but seeing the colors on the flies makes him want to try it at least once. He makes most of them himself also! He has one that has a bunch of wine corks in it that he had been collecting for awhile. And he has one that has one item from each Ami that he asked them to contribute to. His favorite tho is the shadow box that is filled with metal caps from soda bottles. It was the first one he made and a lot of the caps he got one summer he spent with his dad when he was a kid trying to find the best brand of soda for each flavor.

Eponine: Eponine doesn’t have a lot of stuff on her walls, she never really has but ever since she got her apartment and moved out of her parents place she got a few art pieces. They aren’t framed or anything, she always thinks that if something happens and she has to move out of her place that big framed art pieces will just be one more thing she has to worry about. It never happens and she’s accumulated enough pieces that eventually she saves up some money and gets most of them framed.

Cosette: When she was a kid her dad bought her a really beautiful wall quilt that she never took off her wall even if she was cold. They’re pretty expensive and she’s managed to collect a few other larger quilts but she also has signed up for classes at a local quilt shop and has a couple small little baby quilts she’s done as practice that she hung up. They make her so proud and she’s loved looking at how her skills have improved since she started!

Musichetta: Musichetta doesn’t have too much stuff on her walls. She has a couple pieces that are really pretty that she has framed, but one of her walls she doesn’t ever hang stuff on because a couple years ago she bought some super cool bright wallpaper that has a bunch of citrus fruits on it. It really adds a bunch of color to her apartment and even in the winter helps makes the place feel warm and bright.

Gavroche: Gav has two of his walls covered in chalkboard paint! He does his homework on them sometimes but mostly he uses them to draw little doodles. One of the walls he hasn’t touched in months because Feuilly and Grantaire worked together on a super big mural for it that took them like 3 days. Gav won’t ever erase it but he has bumped into it enough times that it’s getting pretty smudged. Plus he figures if he erases it they can just do another one. But because he has chalkboard walls he doesn’t really have anything else on his walls. He maybe has one or two pictures on the last wall that isn’t being taken up by chalkboard or closet doors.

#this was so much fun to do #tag yourself #I'm p proud of Joly's tbh #He very much seems like a puzzle guy #les mis #enjolras #combeferre #courfeyrac #jehan #joly #bousset #bahorel #feuilly #grantaire #marius #eponine #musichetta #cosette #gavroche

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benjaminmoorepaint · 3 years ago

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red: the color of...grantaire?

Figured I might do another meta post like the one I did for Marius to address the myths and misconceptions surrounding certain characters, so it's Grantaire's turn!

I'm sure we all know Grantaire quite well...a sensitive starving artist, with his Apollo as his muse, and a cynic who pragmatically points out the flaws in Enjolras's idealism, which they quarrel over.

Let's unpack that!

Grantaire is most likely middle class if not wealthy, he is certainly not poor. We don't know what he's studying (if he's studying at all) but he is nevertheless a quintessentially Parisian bourgeoise "student", much like Bahorel. "A rover, a gambler, a libertine..." As the foil of "severe in his enjoyments" Enjolras, Grantaire is a pleasure-seeker, indulging in the excesses that Enjolras disdains.

Again, though we don't know what Grantaire is studying (and I suspect he's just Bahorel-ing it) he's clearly an educated man, judging by the references he throws into his speeches, and he mentions that he once was a student of Gros.

So is he really an artist? He might have been an apprentice at some point, but it's clear he was not particularly enthused by it. After all, discipline is something that Grantaire…lacks. And because it's Grantaire, you can't completely discount the idea that he made it up just for a pun (though I do find that unlikely.) But it's a triple (quadruple?) play--it's important not to take this quote too far out of context because he's actually saying several things here.

It is a shame that I am ignorant, otherwise I would quote to you a mass of things; but I know nothing. For instance, I have always been witty; when I was a pupil of Gros, instead of daubing wretched little pictures, I passed my time in pilfering apples; rapin is the masculine of rapine. So much for myself; as for the rest of you, you are worth no more than I am. I scoff at your perfections, excellencies, and qualities. Every good quality tends towards a defect [...] there are just as many vices in virtue as there are holes in Diogenes’ cloak.

Gros was a well-known neoclassical painter of the time, and I believe Hugo's inclusion of him here is a jab at the neoclassicists, as Grantaire doesn't seem to care for him.

There's a pun! "Rapin"--term for a painter's assistant--is the masculine of "rapine"--to steal.

So he likely means he stole the apples intended to be painted for a still life, which fits his careless attitude... but he's ironically putting himself down for it too, and at the same time

putting his companions down, saying they're no better than him even if they do have more "good" qualities because each good quality has a corresponding downside, so what's the point, really?

You can see that even in this small sample of his speech that Grantaire often has layers upon layers of meaning in what he says. He's a smart guy! But that means you can't always take what he says at face value, as Hugo says, he's constantly "reasoning and contradicting" himself. So let me invite you further down into what I think his real meaning is here (though now firmly into the depths of my own conjecture, so others may have different interpretations.)

I would speculate that "the rest of you" who he professes to mock refers mostly to a specific person, you can probably guess who. After all, Enjolras is surely the paragon of virtue among them, and you could certainly argue that his good qualities edge on being flaws. I think Grantaire is right about that, and it's a sort of theme we see pop up again and again--the Bishop's generosity does hurt the women he lives with, Valjean's self-sacrifice hurts Cosette, and Javert is someone who's tipped all the way over to his virtues being vices.

But like, man, come on. Seriously. "I scoff at your perfections, excellencies, and qualities." Dude. We all know that you're obsessed with this man.

And you might notice that this is just a whole lot of Grantaire talking and talking over people, never letting anyone else get a word in. It's not a debate, Grantaire never actually debates anyone, let alone Enjolras. The idea of Grantaire debating Enjolras and making him see the flaws in his idealistic revolution is wholly a fandom invention.

The closest we get, really, is Grantaire trying to convince Enjolras to send him to the Barriere du Maine...and Grantaire doesn't come out of that looking so good.

“Do you know anything of those comrades who meet at Richefeu’s?”

“Not much. We only address each other as tu.”

“What will you say to them?”

“I will speak to them of Robespierre, pardi! Of Danton. Of principles.”

“You?”

“I. But I don’t receive justice. When I set about it, I am terrible. I have read Prudhomme, I know the Social Contract, I know my constitution of the year Two by heart. ‘The liberty of one citizen ends where the liberty of another citizen begins.’ Do you take me for a brute? I have an old bank-bill of the Republic in my drawer. The Rights of Man, the sovereignty of the people, sapristi! I am even a bit of a Hébertist. I can talk the most superb twaddle for six hours by the clock, watch in hand.”

I won't bother going too in-depth here since you're probably familiar with all this--Grantaire talks a big game and then fails to follow through. And we see one of two red waistcoats mentioned, neither of which are worn by Enjolras.

Grantaire lived in furnished lodgings very near the Café Musain. He went out, and five minutes later he returned. He had gone home to put on a Robespierre waistcoat.

“Red,” said he as he entered, and he looked intently at Enjolras. Then, with the palm of his energetic hand, he laid the two scarlet points of the waistcoat across his breast.

So yeah, it's actually Grantaire who wears red, at least canonically! I know their popular red/green color scheme comes from the musical, but it might be fun to reverse it sometimes...I think Enjolras would look great in a nice emerald green, and he'd be more likely to wear that, actually.

Why? A red waistcoat like would be a very obvious, in-your-face political statement--perfect for Bahorel, the other red waistcoat wearer, but Enjolras is actually a lot more reserved and less reckless than fandom sometimes makes him out to be. Wearing something that blatant isn't really his style.

The real question is, why does Grantaire, of all people, own one? Why has he read Prudhomme and the Social Contract and the Rights of Man?

Grantaire is not a super sympathetic character. He's a man of means, talent, intelligence...and he wastes those gifts and privileges on doing nothing, he has no aims in life, he does not aspire to do better or make the world better. He may be Enjolras's foil but I would also contrast him with Feuilly, who has spent his life dedicated to improving himself and the world despite the challenges he's faced. He's obnoxious to women, denigrates his friends for their beliefs, and is generally useless. He's given the opportunity to change and he squanders it. He's not so much cynical (because that's a belief) as he is indifferent, which is arguably worse. His indifference can certainly be read as symbolic within the group, their belief versus the apathy of the world.

But, layers upon layers...Grantaire does have a good heart hiding underneath all that. What I've been getting at all along here is that he does care; he may say he doesn't, he may even believe he doesn't, but he does, clearly, care. He says he hates mankind; he loves people. He says he scoffs at his companions; he admires them. He declares himself indifferent, yet he can't help but talk about the sufferings of the world.

Which isn't to say that simply caring absolves him of anything. Up to this point, he's still just been a useless layabout. What does absolve him (narratively speaking) is the first time, possibly the first time in his life, that he chooses to act. He chooses to take a stand. And this transfigures him, as Hugo says.

Grantaire had risen. The immense gleam of the whole combat which he had missed, and in which he had had no part, appeared in the brilliant glance of the transfigured drunken man.

At the last moment, he chooses to believe, and Enjolras finally accepts him.

One last thing: Grantaire never calls Enjolras "Apollo". Furthermore, he's actually the only one who couldn't have called him "Apollo". The only line where this nickname is mentioned is as follows:

It was of him, possibly, that a witness spoke afterwards, before the council of war: “There was an insurgent whom I heard called Apollo.”

Who could have called him that? Not Grantaire, he was fast asleep during the whole thing. So I choose to believe it was Prouvaire…he would.

#grantaire #meta

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idiotic-genius · 4 years ago

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How to write an immersive scene

requested by @noa-i - check out their blog, they have amazing lists of helpful links to writing guides!

As a writer, it is mostly inevitable to get to the point in writing where you are questioning whether anyone will actually want to read what they have created. A question greatly important to writing something the reader gets hooked up with is: How do I lure them in and make them feel like they are part of something? Sometimes, writing immersive makes THE difference between a scene quick to skip over and a scene you can't take your eyes off. But how do you create immersion?

In this post: 1. Worldbuilding 2. Narrators 3. Writing visually 4. Setting the scene 5. Example to summarize

Step 1: Learn your own facts

It might be banal, since you are the author, to re-read your own notes and think about what you have written so far. However, to get the reader hooked up, make them INTERESTED. This is easily accomplished by creating a detailed fictional world that doesn't seem flat. It might be a tiring process, but it always pays off! Knowing exactly what kind of world your character finds themself in makes it a lot easier to fill in details that subconsciously make the reader believe they are dealing with an actual real-world instead of "just" a fictional one. But even though it may seem harsh, cutting out some details and facts might make the reader feel much more comfortable. Their mind wants to insert them into the universe they're reading about, so overloading them with too many unnecessary details can be just as defeating as giving them too little info. Here is a link to a great beginners-guide on worldbuilding.

Step 2: Know your narrator

As we all know, there are a bunch of different narrator types to pick from when starting a new story, and each of them is good for a different thing- reaching from the typical first-person narrator (The Hunger Games, Percy Jackson) over personal third-person (Warrior Cats, Harry Potter) to omniscient third-person (Anne of Green Gables) and biased third-person (A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy). If you are writing an unbiased third-person narrator in your WIP, you can just skip this step. However, if you have any indication at all in your story as to who the narrator is, you might want to think about this more closely. The narrator is the bridge that connects the reader to the fictional world. To immerse the reader in a book, it's usually easiest to use the first-person narrator or the personal third-person narrator, because that way the reader will either imagine themself as the narrator or as a friend of the main character, which keeps them interested. If your narrator is an actual character in the story, it is necessary to keep their speech and description patterns consistent with themselves and the events of the story. For example, a character narrating that has never visited a school or similar should not use highly scientific words to describe what's going on, etc, because it will interrupt the reader's reading flow and disturb the immersion just as much as time skips do.

Step 3: Writing visually

After making sure you have the narrator and the world they're in all set, it's time to choose a writing style, more specifically, to decide the visuality of it. What I mean by that is that having a fictional world so flat it's boring is just as bad as not describing it in a way that delivers it in the way it deserves to be delivered. Picture it like this: Every scene starts in a white room, with neither windows nor doors. If you as the writer don't describe what is going on in that room and what it looks like, at best while keeping the narrator's character in mind while doing so (to make it "3D"), the reader will never know what is actually happening. This also includes adapting the length and complexity of sentences to the scene: In a combat scene, you will usually find short and cut-throat sentences to represent the intensity and living-in-the-moment mindset of a fight, however, in a meaningful conversation between two characters about a heavy subject, it's more likely that longer and more complex sentences are of use to mirror the narrator's deep thinking of the subject and their concentration on the conversation.

Step 4: Setting the scene

By setting the scene, you fill in this white room in the reader's mind, adding characters, sounds, furniture, windows, and scenery in general, while still leaving space for the reader to fill in the blanks. To find a middle between these two extremes is up to every individual writer and depends on the writing style. If you over-describe the room, the reader will know every detail about it, but it will take away their focus from what is actually happening in the scene. However, if you don't set the scene at all, the reader automatically makes up what the room might look like based on what they imagine, and then breaks out of the immersion as soon as you mention something, later on, to be in the room that they did not picture. For example, if you just say that A enters B's bedroom, the reader might quite as well imagine there to be small windows, some bookshelves, a standard bed, etc. If you don't set that up right in the beginning and later on mention that B has small windows, the books stacked on the floor, a bunch of plants, an aquarium, and a bunk bed, the reader will get confused because it doesn't fit what they had pictured before. So ask yourself: What is so important that the reader should know it before the scene actually starts? Context also matters in that case.

5. Example

In the following, I will write the same scene multiple times in different styles to illustrate what makes a difference in writing immersion. The scene goes as following: Jae falls into a dark room underground with a hooded, mysterious person waiting for him. The hooded person greets him and lights a candle, and in the emitting light, Jae realizes who he is talking to. Remember: These are more caricatures of the different writing styles than actual representation and are very overexaggerated, but you get the idea.

1. first-person narrator (Jae), scene not set properly, no visual writing, no consistency in speech pattern

After three seconds, I landed on something soft and realized I had landed in a chamber underground, slightly lit by the moonlight above me. I walked through the only doorway and found myself in a second room. A hooded figure in the middle of the dark lifted their arm. From the table beside them, they picked up a candle and lit it using a lighter. "Hello, Jae", they said, and in the newly emitting light, I recognized them in front of the fireplace.

-> feels flat and jumpy, gives no significance to the change of scenery

2. biased third-person narrator, scene set properly, overly descriptive visual writing, consistency in speech pattern

After falling for what felt like an hour, even though it was probably just a few seconds, Jae finally landed on something soft. Before even attempting to get up, he shivered at the fresh memory of what slimy, earthy, suddenly appearing tunnels felt like. He stared up through the hole at the moon and the stars, and immediately recognized the constellation of Cassiopeia, high up above him. Cassiopeia is said to have angered the Gods, so they gave her the gift of divination, but made it so that nobody would ever believe her prophecies, finally banning her into the sky as this constellation. Weirdly enough, the stars' pattern doesn't look like a woman, or a human, at all. Jae slowly stood up from where he landed and realized he had fallen onto a rather big cushion with a print of primroses in yellow, pink, red, and blue. He looked around in my new location and found himself stuck in a small portico with no windows at all and only one doorway. The walls seemed just as dirty and muddy as the tunnel he had fallen through, and as he looked closer, he spotted about a dozen small, pink worms slithering through the soil. The floor on the other hand was made out of dark wooden panels- if you wanted to call it a "floor". The pieces were just loosely stuck onto the earth underneath, and mud squeezed out from the gaps in between. Jae slowly walked over them and reached the doorway after just four steps. He saw a hooded figure standing in the center of the next room. The room had two sources of lighting: One, the moonlight shining through the disgusting tunnel, and two, a crackling fireplace. It looked like it belonged in a small cottage, being made out of red bricks and looking a little old with the small black-and-white pictures put on top of it. The flickering orange glim of the fire met the silvery-white shine of the moon in the middle of the room. On the right side, Jae saw a big old round table made out of similar wood as the floorboards outside. There were obvious scratches on it, some made by smaller knives, others bigger and maybe made by swords, with splinters on their edges. Apart from two, the fours chairs around it seemed just as maltreated, but the two others were polished and reflected the two light sources, with no scratch marks at all. On top of the table rested a metal candlestick with one slightly burned-down candle stuck inside it. The candlestick had a few scratches as well, on the side and at the bottom. "Hello, Jae", the figure said snarkily, with a voice deep and rough like sandpaper. They wore a black cape, smooth on what Jae could see of the inside and rough on the outside, with a big hood covering their hair and most of their face. A few of the blue buttons with a golden pentagram engraved on them were missing from the coat, and it was slightly ripped in a few places. One strand of dark hair fell into the person's eyes as they reached out for the candlestick, lighting the candle inside with a silver zippo-lighter. The lighter had small scratches as well as a few symbols on it. Slowly, the flame grew bigger and bigger, until the shine from below reached the figure's face. Jae's eyes went big as he realized who he was talking to.

-> little place for the reader's fantasy, but details make scenery deeper and less flat. This kind of description does make sense if the narrator/the character the narrator fixates on (Jae in this case) is very observant and/or intelligent because they will notice details that others don't. The question is whether those details are important enough to keep in the story.

3. first-person narrator (Jae), scene set properly, visual writing, consistent speech pattern

After what felt like an eternity of falling and silently begging not to die from the impact, I finally landed with my eyes squeezed shut. Okay, legs, arms, and head still in place... I slowly opened my eyes again, realizing I had landed on a soft pillow with a flower print. Cautiously, I got up, gazing up at the tunnel through which I had fallen. The view of the slimy earth made me shiver involuntarily as I blinked against the bright moonlight far above me. The sky was clear enough to see stars, which could have been far more enjoyable if it hadn't been for my miserable situation. I had landed in a small chamber underground, with a single doorway leading into a bigger room. The walls were just pure earth and seemed to swallow all noise, but when I took the first step, the sounds of my shoes on the dark wooden floorboards and of the mud squishing out from beneath them was louder than I had anticipated. I could hear the crackling of fire from the next room and see the orange glow as I made my way over to the doorway and took a glimpse into it. The room was not very big, but also not as small as the one I had landed in. There wasn't much space because of a wooden round table and four chairs, which all seemed very old and maltreated, judging from the scratches on them. I could make out a few pictures on the fireplace, and in front of that- "Hello, Jae." I had to suppress a gasp as I realized that I was not alone. In the middle of the room, right where the silvery moonlight and the orange glow of the fire met, stood a hooded figure. Their coat looked as old as the few pieces of furniture, with missing buttons and rips. I couldn't make out much of their face, even though I squinted my eyes, but the flickering light made it hard to see anything, let alone recognize. But that voice... Before I could come to a conclusion, the figure reached for a metal candlestick standing on the table and lit the candle inside with a silver lighter. As the flame grew bigger, they dispelled the shadows below the hood that had disguised the person's features before. I could feel my eyes get big as I finally realized who was standing before me.

-> Gives enough information to "fill the white room" without dwelling on details too much, shows the context of the story, gives Jae a consistent personality

So that's it for this post! I hope I managed to pass on a thing or two that I learned while researching and that this post will help you with your writing. Please acknowledge, I am not trying to attack anyone's style of writing!! If you write the way I wrote a "non-immersive" scene, it does NOT mean that your writing style is bad, let alone wrong, because the existence of many different writing styles is what keeps it individual and interesting! Find your own way and let nobody get you down :)

#writing #writing prompts #writing tips #writing advice #story prompt #fanfiction #writers on tumblr #writing inspiration #immersion #writing immersion #immersive writing #story tips #how to write #tutorial #tips #request

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lollytea · 3 years ago

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Hi! I love you Shageera fic! The fandom is so small and your fic is so good, I can't thank you enough! And I wanted to ask you, do you have any headcanon about their relationship outside of Talespin? In the original Jungle Book "canon" or some other AU? I'd love to hear them if you do have them, your takes are gold!

Hi! Thank you so much!!

Hmmm. All the versions of shagheera in my head follows the same basic story structure of “friends as kids, grow apart as they get older, reconnect as adults” EXCEPT for the jungle book/canon universe, where the first two DO apply to them (thank you jungle cubs for making that canon, idk where I’d be without jungle cubs canon.) but they continue to keep their distance from each other once they’re grown. I mean Khan tried to kill Bagheera’s kid AND his bear husband. I don’t think they ever can bounce back from that one. They got bad blood and they probably always will.

Unless….just kidding…..unless….

I think about the plot of this cancelled third jungle book movie very often. Yeah it would’ve been bad but….but….but adult Khan and Bagheera might have interacted. Also I wanna know how the fuck a shere khan redemption arc is written. Not very well probably but I still wanna see it. I think Disney should send me the script to this film. As a gift. I think I deserve it. It’s not like they want it. Hand it over, lads.

ANYWAY

Besides the talespin universe, I’ve got like two shagheera AUs

Treasure Planet AU — Bagheera is a scholar and astronomer who comes aboard Captain Shere Khan’s ship. The two know recognize each other as the childhood friend they used to play pirates with. So, rather ironic circumstances they’ve found themselves in. Neither know how to react to reuniting so they’re pretty awkward about it and refuse to acknowledge that they were ever close. They mostly interact with the distant politeness of people who barely know each other and strictly refer to the other Captain/Doctor (unless circumstances are dire) But they’re gonna be stuck on this ship together for the next few weeks so they better figure out what the fuck their relationship is.

Bagheera is deeply out of his element. He’s intimidated by the crew and he doesn’t know how to handle a weapon so he considers himself rather useless on this expedition. He’s never even held a pistol before and now he’s expected to know how to shoot one. He’s so frazzled that he nearly (accidentally) shoots Khan dead at one point. But he wouldn’t be Bagheera if he wasn’t stubbornly insisting that he knows what he’s doing, especially when the captain shoots some sardonic comment his way. The two get into more squabbles than he cane keep track of.

Shere Khan is exasperated with the doctor, with the boy he brought aboard, with the entire idiot crew he hired, but especially with the doctor. He attempts to keep himself composed but he keeps stooping to the most childish arguments and he feels like the presence of Bagheera is forcibly dragging him back 25 years every time they interact. Shere Khan does not know how to feel about that.

Shere Khan finds himself having to acknowledge that Bagheera is brilliant. Due to the doctor’s calculations, the ship avoided the waves of impact during a difficult path through a black hole and he’s the reason they got out alive. He never felt all that much admiration for the little brainiac when they were children but now he is absolutely blowing him away.

Bagheera starts spending more time in Shere Khan’s office because it’s the only place he feels comfortable. (The crew really creeps him out.) and they do everything from argue to discuss alternate routes to pour over the map. This evolves to Shere Khan teaching Bagheera what he knows about wielding a sword and they have many homoerotic sparring sessions. Sometimes they’ll lay out in the escape boats and Bagheera will teach Khan the names of all his favourite constellations. They have many homoerotic star gazing sessions. BASICALLY they have a gay space pirate love story but it’s behind the scenes stuff cuz Kit is the protagonist of this au and he doesn’t give a fuck what Shere Khan and Bagheera are doing.

They are forced to acknowledge that they care about each other when the stakes get more dangerous and both have their near death experiences, rattling the other considerably. At the very least they start calling each other by their first names again ❤️

Fairytale/ Dragon Princess AU — OKAY i don’t think I’ve ever publicly posted about this au so I won’t unpack all of it cuz I know y’all aren’t familiar with it. It’s mostly focused on Baloo/Rebecca and the bear family as a whole but Shagheera is involved too so I’ll focus on that part for now.

So basically Shere Khan was a kid prince and Bagheera was the son of a servant so, as the only two children in the castle, they’ve been playmates since before they could walk.

The only other children they interacted with were Bagheera’s friends (Baloo, Louie etc.) and Shere Khan’s wife-to-be, Princess Rebecca. Their parents arranged the engagement and neither Khan or Rebecca were thrilled about it. As they grow older, Bagheera leaves the palace to make his own way and he and Khan don’t keep in touch.

By the time they were young adults, mysterious circumstances paused Shere Khan and Rebecca’s upcoming marriage when word spread around that the princess had been horribly cursed and locked away in a tower. Details were sparse, even to her fiancé. All that was known was that she had last been seen talking with a man who had a reputation for being a dark mage and it can be deduced that he was the one behind the curse.

But before she disappeared, Rebecca sent Khan a letter begging him to please not retrieve her from the tower, warning him that whoever ventured out to save her would not make it back alive. Khan obliged of course, both because he respected her wishes and if she returned, he would have to marry her.

As a king, Shere Khan had excellent publicity. He was charming and charismatic in public, masking the fact that he was an absolute bitch in private. He was also obliged to act like he cared about his fiancée being returned to his side so every now and then he allowed whatever arrogant glory seeking fool who offered, to go “save” her. None of them lived.

Years later, Khan drops into an ancient, desolate library on the outskirts of town, hoping to find a particular book on plants. It’s after midnight, so he doesn’t have to deal with the scandal of the king being out and about. And who does he find between the shelves, bathed in the dim glow of oil lamps, but Bagheera, snoring on the floor in a pile of open books.

This begins a tentative acquaintanceship in which Khan escapes to the library every now and again for a change of scenery and to meet with Bagheera, who lives on the floor above.

It doesn’t take long for Shere Khan to learn Bagheera’s reputation. As it turns out, the passionate yet introverted scholar with books on the brain, is allegedly the “dark mage” that put a curse on Rebecca all those years ago. This would explain why his library is always empty. Everyone in town is petrified of him.

Rather than turn to anger or fear, Shere Khan can only feel disbelief and intrigue because whatever rumors are going around are clearly fabricated. He challenges Bagheera to perform some evil little spell for him, summon hellbeasts if he must. But Bagheera falters and it is revealed that underneath that reputation is a bit of a sham. Bagheera has been trying for years to become an adept mage but he just can’t get the hang of it. His spell-work is terrible. Always has been.

“Well surely you can’t have cursed the princess then?” Shere Khan reasons. But that’s not exactly true. Yes, Bagheera was not behind the original curse but when Rebecca came to him for help, he accidentally made it so so much worse. Bagheera is the reason shes been forced to hide herself away in a tower and he’s been spending all these years attempting to improve his magic so he can finally undo what he’s done.

And so Fairytale/Dragon Princess AU is a fantasy love story where Shere Khan attempts to help Bagheera effectively channel his magic. The fun part about it is magic is intricately tied to a persons emotional state so when you’re having homoerotic little scenes with your childhood buddy and he touches your forearm, you nearly set the whole goddamn library ablaze. Real gay shit.

I have run out of steam and cannot ramble anymore. Hope I have pleased you.

#this is very rambly and not very arresting I am sorry #I had a lot to say but not the worlds to say them

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trollex-is-gay · 4 years ago

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Branch was down visiting Synth even more often than before. Time had passed, it took four months of waiting, but now the eggs were far closer to hatching. It could happen any day now, and the others had stopped visiting the eggs in case they hatched while they were around. The eggs were moved to a nest closer to the surface so that Branch could come over more, it was still rather submerged, but not as deep as it had been. The eggs seemed okay with the move, which was good, because any negative reaction could ruin the babies health severely. The other trolls had given them some gifts to celebrate the eggs, but most had to be stored with Branch since those items weren’t waterproof. Everyone was excited for the hatching, the parents especially. Though it was also rather nerve wracking, there were so many possible bad outcomes, some of them might not hatch….but they tried to ignore that. Branch had trouble with that, he just wants his kids to join Trollstopia, alive and happy. There's just so many things that could go wrong...

The air wasn’t too cold, or too warm, it was almost midnight, but Branch was determined on visiting his children and his lover one last time tonight. He waded into the water, the eggs were completely underwater, but there were some spaces in the cave that were above the water, which meant there wasn’t much need for a helmet unless he wanted to get down with the nest, which he did quite often.

He carried the helmet with him, placing it on a space next to where he sat, then he reached out his hand, creating ripples to let Synth know he was there. Rocks had created some walls to the nest area, so Synth couldn’t see Branch coming. He waited for a moment, wondering if he’d make it clear enough, he patted on the water’s surface to try and get Synth’s attention. The techno troll popped his head out of the water, a big grin on his face.

“You’re gonna need that!”, he chirped with quite the happy expression, pointing to the helmet. Branch wasn’t sure why Synth looked so excited, but then it hit him, and he got that helmet on as quickly as possible.

“The eggs?”, he whispered in awe and excitement. Synth quickly nodded, and immediately dragged him down under the water once he was ready, curling around the nest, his smile not fading.

“Look at them, look~”, he purred, his tail thumped a little bit as he nudged an egg. The egg he’d directed attention to seemed to have a small crack in it, it was also glowing, the shadow of the baby was clear as day. The little guppy was far too big for their egg, and they were ready to break out of the shell. Branch cuddled up to Synth, he put a hand on the crack, and as he did so, the guppy stretched her hand out, breaking a piece of the shell off, and making contact with Branch’s fingertips.

“Look at that glow…”, Synth cooed, he carefully dusted the remaining pieces away from the hole, watching as the baby attempted to break the rest of the egg open.

“They get it from you..”, Branch nudged Synth a little, he felt so happy...it was really happening….the little guppies were alive, and soon, they’d really meet for the first time. Certainly not wasting time, the guppy forced their way out of the hole they’d made, bumping into a couple of their siblings as they came out, which got them beeped at by the other guppies, who’d probably be hatching soon as well. Synth smiled, he lifted up the baby, bringing them closer to his chest, letting the little one snuggled up to him, listening to his heartbeat. He gazed at the child, studying her in silence before speaking,

“Our first child..that’s a little girl alright...oh, look at her...she has your colors, Dubstep….”, he stroked the head of the guppy, she yawned, her face-fins wiggled just slightly, and she opened her eyes. Bright pink, a big contrast from the blue colors of the rest of her body. Branch gently put a hand underneath the guppy’s face, she looked up at him, letting out a quiet beep, a curious one.

“She likes you…”, Synth purred, he shifted the baby over to Branch, it felt so...odd holding the baby for the first time. This little troll is theirs, and they have four more that are about to enter the world as well. Branch let the baby study him, taking in her other parent, she let out a high pitched chirp, not a cry, and excited noise, she was clearly happy to see him. Synth looked over to the other eggs, inspecting them to see if any others were starting to hatch. The eggs were all giving off a soft glow, but one began to glow brighter than the rest. He leaned down, watching intently as the next guppy began to hatch. This one took it far slower, carefully breaking their egg apart, in fact, they’d taken so much time that another was already half-way out by the time they’d hatched. He carefully picked up both of them, gently nudging the second out of the remains of their egg, and held them both close, the theory of them all looking mostly like techno trolls had proved true so far, but there’s still two more eggs to go. Branch was still holding the first one, but he attempted to shift how he held her so that he could get a better look at the other two. The slower hatcher was another little girl, she still had a glow, but her upper body seemed to take after the softer skin of a pop troll, though her tail still carried the smooth scales of a techno troll. The other had full scales all the way, the same beautiful purple as Synth, but with glowing markings of bright blue covering his body.

“I don’t think we have enough arms to hold them all”, Branch joked, when he spoke, his newly hatched son gave some rather good points in the form of lots of furious beeping. Which upset his sister, who started beeping back with quite a bit of fury. Neither had opened their eyes yet, but they could certainly hear each other enough to be mad at each other.

“Oh wow, sibling fights already, and they haven’t even known each other for an hour,” Synth put a hand between them, and rubbed the fins on their faces, which seemed to relax them.

“You grew up with a bunch of siblings, I bet you guys fought”, Branch carefully tickled the nose of his son, who let out another furious beep.

“Well, a little, but back then we didn’t fight much, too afraid that we’d separate because of the fights...things were dangerous when I was growing up”, Synth purred, he watched the new pair open their eyes for the first time, the son with eyes of seafoam green, and their other daughter gave quite the surprise with a pair of golden eyes, but Synth was rather comforted by the sight….his mother had eyes like that. They waited a little after that, Synth was growing worried, the other two eggs hadn’t budged, they hadn't even cracked. The three that hatched were starting to fall asleep already...when both eggs suddenly glowed at once. Synth perked up, making an excited chattering noise towards Branch, almost waking up the guppies. One of the eggs began to crack all over, and the baby inside sent a couple pieces of their shell flying when they burst out, shortly followed by their sibling, who seemed to use a similar method.

“Woah….now would ya’ look at that..”, Synth whispered, he placed the two children he was holding back onto the nest, in a spot cleared of shells, and lifted up one of the pair that just hatched. Branch rested the first-hatched into the same spot, making sure she had enough room. The new baby held the glow, Synth’s colors, but he wasn’t entirely a techno troll in body. He had little fin-like ears, and instead of the type of tail the others had, he had legs, and a little, different kind of tail, with webbing on the top. When the baby stretched his hand out, Synth could see webbing between his fingers. Branch gently picked up the other hatchling, this baby seemed to be a mixture of his and Synth’s colors, the same neon glow as Synth, but with a body shape similar to her brother.

“Well, aren’t you two a couple of rebels?”, Branch chuckled, holding his third daughter up to his face, she let out a peeping noise, snuggling up against him. After holding the two for a few moments, they cleared out the rest of the eggshells, and layed the babies all in one pile. Synth snuggled them close, like he did when they were still eggs, curled around the hatchlings, and Branch laid against Synth, trying not to disrupt.

“Five….that’s a lotta names to come up with…”, the techno troll crooned as he observed the children.

“Yeah, but I’m sure we’ll come up with some good ones...let’s just decide the names before we let the others know the eggs hatched...Poppy would be spitballing ideas like crazy,” Branch laughed, but tried to keep it quiet, he didn’t want to disturb the sleeping babies. It was still so much to take in, these are their kids, and they’re beautiful ones too.

#trolls #trolls au #trollstopia #my au #brynth #trolls fic #my fic #I KNOW I COULDA WAITED OR WROTE MORE BEFORE THE HATCHING #BUT I JUST COULDNT WAIT OKAY #Im just full of fluff #these dorks....best dads #they luv each other and their fishy children #trolls ocs #my ocs

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theonewiththefanfics · 4 years ago

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Would You Be My Little Quarantine (one-shot)

Synopsis: As the mandatory quarantine hits, the Reader is stuck in a cabin in Utah with the boys from 5 Seconds of Summer. Turns out another person is stuck in a hotel nearby. Hijinx ensue as does romance.

Pairing: Harry Styles x f!Reader

Genre: fluff pretty much just pure, teeth-rotting fluff.

Warnings: it’s my first time writing for Harry as I was never really part of the fandom, but damn does Watermelon Sugar do things to a person, so please be kind. This is defo not my best work, but I’m slowly getting back into the groove of things, so bare with me :D

Word count: 6061

TikTok had become Y/N’s new obsession. She’d stayed away from it as long as she could, being a true Vine generation child, she felt loyalty to the deceased app. But one night, after a long recording session, she caved. And then stayed giggling on it until the early morning when the birds started to chirp… or until Calum had taken her phone and threatened to throw it in the jacuzzi if she didn’t go to bed.

The girl and the four guys from 5 Seconds of Summer had been renting a cabin in the middle of the Utah woods to help them escape the distractions of the city as they recorded their respective albums, and given how they were good friends, they decided to collaborate on a few songs, and it made sense to just chill together as well.

Which had started off Y/N’s own TikTok series, having ‘borrowed’ the idea from the Irishman living with two girls.

“Alright, gentlemen.” She slid inside her bathroom pulling the focus of her camera on the reflection in the mirror. “I live with four guys, and I have some things to say. Why do you always, and I mean ALWAYS, leave your socks around the house? The dirty ones. You know you could just throw them in the wash… there’s an idea.”

“We do!” Calum yelled

Y/N turned her face to the door and hollered, “Only after I’ve asked you to!”

“Do not!” he countered.

“Do too!” she exited the bathroom and into the hallway only to be met with the man standing there with his hands on his hips. “Then how.” Y/N pointed the camera towards the living area you could see from where the hallways overlooked the room. “Do you explain that?” And when she zoomed in, there, in a small pile laid two brown socks, all crumpled up and almost pushed underneath one of the three couches, as if someone was trying to hide them from sight.

Calum stammered for a bit. “Those are NOT mine.”

Y/N flipped the camera and looked at it like they do in the Office. “Help me,” she mouthed and finished the TikTok, pointing with her hand at him. “Ya disgustin’!”

Just as maturely as she had reacted, so did Calum by crossing his arms and sticking his tongue out, but their little bickering about whose socks they were and whose job was it to put them in the dirty wash (they were Ashton’s, and it was his job), Luke poked Y/N’s side as he came out from his room.

“I know might seem weird, but is there any chance another person could join our quarantine group?”

Y/N’s eyebrows rose. Sure, the house was giant, mostly because whatever production she was a part of on Broadway, after a successful season, she invited all of them there to get away from the bustle of New York and just chill. It was in the middle of the forest, encased by gorgeous mountains and at the side of a lake where they’d go jet skiing and cliff diving.

“I thought people can’t visit one another?”

“They can’t,” Luke confirmed. “That’s the point. The unfortunate soul just got stuck at a hotel not too far from here, and all the flights are cancelled. Two weeks of quarantine without symptoms have been concluded, but, knowing how impossible it’d be to get to London, when you know, as I said, there are no flights, I offered a place to stay.”

“So,” Y/N dramatically rolled her head. “You already offered to stay before asking me?”

“Well, I knew you’d say ‘yes’ because you’re a kind, generous, amazing, smart, talented, compassionate person and wouldn’t leave someone on the streets when you know you could help.”

“Mhm, keep talking.” Y/N squinted her eyes and put her hands on her hips.

“Incredible, best musician I’ve ever met, how you haven’t won all of Tony’s I’ve got no idea. Your acting skills are impeccable and the movie industry is missing out on a once in a lifetime kind of a talent by not castin-“

“Alright stop.” Y/N busted out laughing. “As long as you promise I won’t wake up with an axe in my head, ‘s fine.”

“Promise.”

“Good. Also, could you please get me three bottles of that wine I like?” Y/N hollered before skipping downstairs and to the kitchen where Ashton was brewing the tenth cup of coffee. “I have a deadline in two weeks and have literally no idea where to go with the story.” She referred to the second book of her series she was writing, and now with the lockdown going on, her literary agent was breathing down her neck, and it didn’t help she hadn’t written anything in like a month and didn’t remember half of the already exiting story.

Luke lifted a brow and hissed through his teeth. “That bad?”

“You have no idea,” she sighed and left for the living-room where she could harass the boys for their fries and procrastinate some more.

***

The few hours, while Luke was away, were quite uneventful. All of them sat around on the couch pit, wrote some music, lil bit of lyrics and Y/N almost cried seeing as her characters had decided to live their own life and not obey to her story.

“Why do you have to be such an idiot,” she mumbled under her breath and furrowed her brows as she wrote herself into a new plot hole.

Right as Y/N was about to delete the whole chapter, the door slammed open and she heard grunting. “We’re here!” Luke hollered, and the thought of wine made her giddy, making her leap over the edge of the couch, and rush to the front door only to stop dead in her tracks.

Y/N’s mouth hung open, not because of who the person joining their quarantine group was, but because of what the person was. “A fifth GUY?! You didn’t tell me it’d be a guy!”

“I didn’t think it’d matter!” Luke yelled back.

“There’s already four of you!” She pointed back to the living room hearing loads of ‘hey!’ being shouted back.

“Would you leave him on the streets if you’d known he was a dude?”

“No, of course not!”

“Why are we yelling?”

“I don’t know!”

“I mean, I can leave.” Harry Styles said pointing at the door, not really knowing what to do. He certainly hadn’t expected that sort of greeting. “But I do come bearing gifts.” He lifted a black bag where a clinking of glass could be heard.

“No,” she sighed. “It’s fine... I just… I just miss the company of vaginas.”

He raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Vaginas?”

“People I can rant to. Honestly, it doesn’t even matter if you have a vagina, as long as we can have a good rant. Especially about the gross things like having all of your dirty socks thrown around the house.” She threw Luke a look that screamed ‘I know you pushed all of them under your bed, and it’s stinking up the whole place.’

Harry shook his head. “Ya not gonna find me leaving my clothes like that. Besides, ‘s disgusting.”

“No,” Luke whined, “come on, man! You’re supposed to be on our side!”

“It’s two against four,” Harry snickered, throwing his hand around Y/N’s shoulder, who gave Luke a smug grin, and it made her mimic the same expression.

“It’s evening out. Maybe you should actually invite some other people to quarantine with us. Say, Harry, is maybe Niall in need of a place to stay?”

Luke rolled his eyes, and shook his head, going into the kitchen and placing the food bags he’d been holding. “I hate you so much.”

Y/N’s smile just widened.

***

“Yes, I’m still stealing your series Irishman.” Y/N zoomed in on her face. “Because now…” she looked up at the ceiling in a manner ‘someone please save me’, “I’m living with FIVE dudes. Yes, FIVE. We have an addition. And if someone doesn’t come and kill me, I will kill them.”

“We’re not that bad!” Michael hollered form out of frame, to which Y/N yelled back, “Yes the fuck you are! Boys are gross. You do realize you’re allowed to have more than one towel. Like you DON’T have to wipe your face with a towel that’s soaked up your ball juice.”

“It’s economy.”

“It’s disgusting! Also.” Y/N turned the camera to Harry who was climbing up the stairs with a cup of coffee in hand. “Say ‘Hi’ to gremlin number five. He’s stolen all of my nail polish.”

He gave a cute wave with an adorable smile, muttering an unintelligible ‘Hello’ as his mouth was stuffed with a piece of bread and a very muffled ‘You don’t even use them.’

“Yes, but that’s not the point. Anyway,” Y/N pointed the camera at herself. “Tune in for an update whenever, as long as I haven’t strangled anyone, and pray to the heavens you don’t see my face in the papers cause the next time you do, it’ll be my mugshot for a quintuple homicide.”

“Is that a threat Y/L/N?” Harry smirked, as Y/N walked past him and took away his cup of coffee.

“No, it’s a promise.” She threw him a wink, leaving the Brit with his mouth open at the woman’s audacity, as she stopped the recording of the TikTok.

“That was my coffee!”

“Not anymore!”

He shook his head, turning back around and going to the kitchen, seeing Y/N perched on one of the stools, neck stretching over to where Ashton was watching a video on his phone, the black liquid in his cup now a creamy beige. Harry smiled. Maybe quarantine wasn’t going to be so bad.

***

Y/N’s head popped from the side of the door, bringing all of their attention to her. “You guys need to record anything right now?”

Luke shook his head, signifying the band was alright before turning to Harry who mimicked him, the tapping of his pen stopping. “Why?”

“Just got a call from Laurence, he said something’s wrong with the ‘Candy Store’ audio from yesterday. Need to rerecord it and send it over. Something about a faulty export or whatever.”

“ ‘S all yours.” Ashton motioned to the recording booth. “Oh, but can I be Heather Duke?”

“And can I be Heather McNamara then?” Luke piped in.

Y/N chuckled. “Not to burst your bubbles, but you do know you won’t be in the final version?”

“No, but we could be in THIS version. It’d be for our private files. And it’d help you.”

“That sounds so wrong.” She grimaced. “How would that help me?” Y/N plopped next to Harry on the floor. “You’re the biggest distractions I’ve ever met.”

Luke scoffed. “How dare you! We offer you our services of being backup singers, and you… you’re such a meanie. You’re such a Heather Chandler!”

“It’s 2020! If Leslie Odom Jr. can play Aaron Burr, then I can play one of the Heathers! Don’t be sexist, Y/N!”

“I never said a dude can’t play a Heather, don’t put words in my mouth. I just said last time we tried to record anything together we ended up playing SIMS for like seven hours, but… come on you two divas, get your asses inside then. But I swear if Laurence or Kevin call because one of you whispered something dirty in the background of MY parts, I will strangle you in your sleep.”

“How little trust do you have in us?”

“Very,” Y/N deadpanned, showing the two men inside, leaving Calum, Harry and Michael to man the production table. “If you mess with anything, your asses will be grass.” She pointed at the three and all of them put their hands up in surrender. “ ‘S bad enough you ruined my single.”

“It’s called giving it flavour,” Calum said through the microphone.

Y/N just responded by sticking her tongue out.

Michael lifted his fingers, counting down from five to one, giving her the cue to start.

“Are we gonna have a problem?” Y/N cocked her head to the side, already immersed in the character of Heather Chandler. “You’ve got a bone to pick? You’ve come so far, why now are you pulling on my dick?”

Harry swallowed hard.

“I’d normally slap your face off, and everyone here could watch,” she slightly motioned with her head to the audience behind the screen, a mockingly sweet smile on her lips. “But I’m feeling nice, here’s some advice, listen up biatch.”

When her hips started moving from side to side to the rhythm of the song, Harry swore he’d never found someone being mean (even though it was mock mean) so hot.

“I like,” Y/N raised her voice before dropping it. “Looking hot, buying stuff they cannot.”

There was no sight of the sweet and bubbly girl Harry had met. This was Queen-B of Westerberg High in flesh. He was transfixed.

“I like drinking hard, maxing dad’s credit card.”

She didn’t need anyone’s credit card to pay for her things, given how she was one of the top paid Broadway singers of their generation, and something in Harry skipped a beat at how confident she looked.

“I like skipping gym, scaring her, screwing him,” Y/N rolled the ‘r’ deeply in her throat, and he had to collect himself before his thoughts went to an unsavoury place.

“I like, killer clothes, kicking nerds in the nose!” With a smile, Y/N pointed at Luke who only rolled his eyes. “If you lack the balls, you can go play dolls, let yer mammy fix you a snack,” she emphasised the ‘K’ after having mockingly sung the bit before. “Or you could come smoke, pound some rum and coke, in ma Porche with the quarterback.”

As weird as it was to have the two boys be her fellow Heathers, Y/N hated to admit it did help her. It reminded her more of what it was like to be on stage before the pandemic had started and the production had to be shut down. And she missed them. All her fellow actors just as much as she missed the rush of getting on stage and losing herself in the role and atmosphere.

“You can join the team –“

“Or you can bitch and moan,” Y/N’s ‘Heathers’ sang in a nasally voice

“You can live the dream.”

“Or you can die alone.”

Harry snuck inside the recording booth, picking up a pair of headphones by the drum set.

“You can fly with eagles,”

“Or if you’d prefer,”

“Keep on testing me,”

“And end up like her!”

And that’s when Harry joined in, reciting the lines of both Veronica and Martha, and when he saw Y/N keeping a palm over her mouth as she tried to keep a mean face while inevitably hiding a smile. The whole of the song, despite how Ashton, Luke and Harry had tried to make Y/N break character (she came close a couple of times), the woman stayed on the line, not missing a beat, and especially enjoying the moment where she looked at Luke, who was about to hit the high note and screaming ‘shut up, Heather!’

Harry couldn’t help the smile splitting apart his face. When Luke had first picked up his call, having known he and the gang were somewhere in the Utah region, he had thought he’d be living with just the guys, and when he found out it was actually Y/N Y/L/N renting the cabin, the girl he’d admired for so long for how brave and utterly unapologetic she was of being herself, Harry had just thought he’d gain a new friend, not have romantic feelings spring up.

And all of it had happened in the span of two days, not even that much. He’d arrived the evening before, had met the woman, and now it was three PM on day two and was already in love.

It was an exhilarating and terrifying feeling all at once. Some studies said it takes men eight seconds to fall in love, which Harry now could pretty much confirm, while it takes women generally fifteen days to fall in love. And he could only hope Y/N might have some feelings for him as well, otherwise, he’d have to scold his heart for falling quickly once again.

***

It was the middle of the night, wind slamming against the windows when Harry got awoken by people talking behind his door. At first, he was ready to fight, thinking immediately that intruders had come into the house, but when he heard a ‘fuck off Michael’ and a ‘you fuck off, you’re gonna ruin this’, he understood everything was fine. And he was just about to lay back down on the soft pillows, but as the saying went – curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, so he threw off the covers and lightly went to the door, where a bleary Harry appeared on the stairs making Y/N and Michael whip their heads towards him and freeze on the spot.

“What are you two do-“ but he didn’t get to finish the question as the two co-conspirators shushed him.

“You’re either in,” Y/N whispered harshly, “or out. Choose Styles.”

A beat. “What kind of trouble’re we getting’ into?”

The smile which spread on her face was nothing short of wicked. “Revenge,” Y/N hissed.

“Be quieter than a mouse,” she whispered to him, and now the trio moved downstairs.

“Who are we getting revenge on?” Harry spoke as quietly as he could, as they rounded the corner and exited the cabin through the back door. It was colder than he thought, seeing how the wind wasn’t warm at all, and he was grateful he’d fallen asleep in his favourite rainbow cardigan. How Y/N and Michael didn’t even shiver in their barely-there pyjamas he didn’t understand.

“See, Luke here thought it was a good idea to not heed my warning about not messing with my recording.”

Harry’s eyebrows scrunched up. “He didn’t.” He knew Luke hadn’t, he was there the whole time and listened back to what they’d sung with everyone together.

“No, but he did rename a different file with the same name I had for the 'Heathers'' recording, on MY computer, mind you. And well, let’s just say, it was not what anyone wanted to hear.”

Harry had to swallow, as his mind went to unsavoury places, and as Y/N shimmied open the lock of the window to the studio bathroom part of the house, she looked over her shoulder to see his expression. It would seem, despite him being in ‘Dunkirk’ and having been confirmed to play Eric in the live-action ‘The Little Mermaid’ he wasn’t as good of an actor as he thought.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” she snickered and pulled herself inside the house through the window, Michael handing her a black duffle bag Harry hadn’t first noticed. “It was a conversation I had with my friends while we were all drunk. Some tea, some very personal tea was spilt, and so.” She unzipped the bag slowly and took out a whipped cream can. “I’m going to spill something else.”

Canned cheese was one of the most disgusting things ever created by a human in Y/N’s opinion. So, squeezing nine cans worth of the stuff inside all of Luke’s socks, jean pockets and everywhere else possible was good enough revenge for her.

“Why are we in the studio though?” Harry asked as the trio crept towards the bathroom door and peeked through the open sliver. It was pitch black.

“Because Luke teds to forget his favourite things here,” Michael explained and motioned for them to follow as he checked that the hallway was clear. It was go-time.

Together they all snuck back inside the recording studio, and much like Michael had said – Luke’s favourite jean jacket, a woollen jumper, three pairs of boots and shoes were all scattered around the place. He hadn’t even noticed it while they’d hung out there, but now Harry understood what Y/N was talking about while whining about the boys being messy.

She uncapped the can and squeezed, the artificial smell of cheese wafting through the air, making her almost gag. “That’s for being a bad friend,” she muttered while filling up one shoe. “That’s for making bad jokes.” She filled up another. “And that’s for saying ‘Dancing in the Moonlight’ is an overrated song.’

It was hard for Harry to contain the giggles, as he uncapped his own can and started filling up wherever Y/N pointed to. Did he feel bad? Sure. But was it fun to feel like a teenager in a university dorm during a prank war? Abso-fucking-lutely. And it didn’t help that he was desperately falling in love with Y/N with every second they spent together. Like she could’ve asked him to hide Luke’s corpse, and he’d say he’d take the blame for the murder if it came to it.

“Why did we have to sneak around the place like that?” he suddenly asked, brows furrowing in concentration as he squeezed the smelly contents inside the inside pocket of the jacket. “Why couldn’t we have just walked through the house?”

“Because Luke always and I mean always comes to the studio at 3 AM,” Y/N stated.

Harry looked at the clock. It was 2:45 AM already.

“But before that, he goes into the kitchen, makes himself a double espresso, a sandwich and eats it before going into the storage where we keep all of the instruments, which is where he is in right now. Had we snuck through the normal way, he would’ve seen us and stopped this. And that just wouldn’t fly.”

However, it was like Luke had a sixth sense as right at that moment the light flipped on, and like deer in headlights, the trio’s heads shot up and eyes widened.

“What the fuck!” he whispered hand extended in the direction of the already six empty cans on the floor.

Y/N snapped out of the adrenaline induced frozen state and shrugged. “I told you not to mess with the recording.” She put her finger back on the squeezable part. “And you. Didn’t. Listen.”

The cheese squirted out with a splutter, and all of them stood still as the final bits dropped into Luke’s black boot. “And that’s payback.”

With a sway in her hips, Y/N exited the room, leaving the three men to gawk after her.

God was she a hurricane, Harry thought to himself. And he’d never been as happy to be caught right in the eye of it all.

***

The next few days all of them spent lounging around the house, recording a few songs, most of them by Harry seeing as a huge wave of inspiration had hit him, making him write more than one love song. He even asked Y/N somewhat shyly if she could do some of the backing vocals, and he swore the song went from a 3 to a 100 the second he heard her voice weave his lyrics into a symphony.

By that point, they’d been quarantining for a week and a half together, and a heatwave was coming up. The cabin had both an inside and outside pool which they’d all had to learn how to maintain, seeing as no one could come and do it for them, and a jacuzzi tub on the terrace. As much as the boys tried to prove they knew how to keep the places clean, ultimately it was Y/N who saved all of them from chlorine poisoning and algae overgrowth.

So, it was right when she pulled out the pH indicator and said it was good for use when with a scream, Luke rushed forward Y/N, rugby tackling her by the waist and plunged both of them down to the water below.

“You asshole!” She splashed at him, laughing and choking out a bit of water as they resurfaced. “What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“That’s payback for the cheese.”

She went silent for a second, but then shrugged. “Can’t say I didn’t deserve it. But you did deserve the cheese.”

“So,” Luke extended his hand for a shake. “Do we call this even?”

Harry exited the cabin right as both of them completely soaked to the bone jumped out onto the wood floor. He stopped mid-walk if only to control where his eyes went seeing as Y/N’s white shirt clung to her body and well… didn’t leave much for the imagination anymore.

“Do I wanna know what happened here?” He raised a brow.

“Retribution.”

“Though I do gotta say, you have a funny way of getting revenge.” Y/N smirked at Luke, making him squint down at the girl.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she drawled out, a mischievous smile on her lips, “that when I filled your clothes with the cheese, my stuff didn’t get stinky. And yet, from your end… I’m not the only one wet.”

A beat passed.

“God fucking damn it.”

“Hey!” She pointed a finger at him. “We called a truce!”

Luke waved her off. “Yeah yeah, whatever,” but Y/N grabbed Luke’s hand right before he went inside and squeezed it.

“We good?”

He sighed and smiled. “We good, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, gave Harry a quick ‘see ya later’ as well and disappeared through the glass doors.

Harry didn’t know what’d happened to him. He’d always been a helpless romantic, falling in love, and maybe a bit too hard at that, but this time, even without Y/N knowing about his feelings, his heart felt safe.

Sure, the side of her he’d seen was a complete headcase, and she had more energy than a bull with a red flag in front of it, but the utter love exuding from the woman, even while she complained about her four, well five counting him, housemates was palpable in the air. The way she hugged and made sure everyone had whatever they needed, the way she let them know if anyone needed to have a chat, she’d be there to listen, and the small little things of how she always knew what preferences they’d have for their pancakes or breakfast in general, made his heart melt.

“Luke’s a lucky guy.” Harry swallowed before saying that. As much as seeing Y/N be affectionate with everyone, him included, made him feel all fuzzy, a little jealousy monster did bubble up in his stomach when he saw her snuggled next to the lead vocalist of the band. He didn’t have any right to, but no matter how much he tried to repress the green beast, it still lurked somewhere deep in his heart.

“Hm?” Y/N lifted her head where she’d been looking at the water as she squeezed it out of her shirt and up at Harry.

He motioned with his chin to where Luke had disappeared. “He’s a lucky guy to have someone like you.”

“Oh, we’re not together if that’s what you’re implying.”

“I –“ he stammered. “I didn’t mean to offend y-“

But Y/N waved him off. “You’re not the first nor probably the last person to say that. I get it. They asked me one time to surprise their fans at a concert in Connecticut, I think, and when their photographer sent over the pictures, I kinda saw what everyone kept saying, but I’ve never looked at any of them as more than a friend. Best friends, brothers maybe, but nothing more.”

“How’d ya get so close?” Harry enquired, his chest feeling a bit lighter.

Y/N huffed and plopped down to the ground, patting the place beside her which Harry took. “When I first went solo, right after being on ‘Beetlejuice’ I was fucking terrified. Didn’t really know anyone in the music industry like that. Being on Broadway’s different.” She shrugged. “And the award shows are different as well. Like with ‘Tony’s’ or ‘Oliver’ awards it’s you know – musical and theatre geeks. My people. But the first time I went to VMAs I almost shat myself.” She chuckled, and Harry did the same. “Didn’t know anyone at all, was petrified to even find my seat because someone told me I’d have to sit between Lady Gaga and Rihanna, and my heart was not ready for that. Ashton saw me at the edge of the carpet, creeping around the entrance and kinda…” Y/N bit her lip looking for the right words. “I dunno. They kinda took me under their wing, in a sense – if you need a friend in the industry, we’re here, that sort of thing. And ever since then, we’ve been best friends. Luke and I just got the closest because we got stuck in an elevator once for like eight hours once, and well, boredom and thinking you’re gonna die in a four by four-foot box brings people closer.”

Harry almost choked. “Eight hours?”

“Yep.” Y/N popped the ‘p’ and gave him a sarcastic smile. “It was like soooo much fun,” she said sarcastically. “I totally didn’t think the elevator was about to drop from where we were up on like the sixtieth floor, and both of us were gonna get our bones smashed to pieces, and I only had two protein bars, and you know how I get without food,” she stated. He nodded.

“Cranky.”

“Exactly. But.” Y/N chuckled. “We didn’t die. Which’s great, not complaining, and I gained one of my all-time best friends.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t die.” Harry gave her a warm smile and nudged her foot with his. “Wouldn’t have gotten the chance to meet you otherwise.”

She nudged his foot back. “ ‘M glad I didn’t die either. And I gotta say – you’ve made this whole quarantine bearable. Sometimes it’s like fighting with four toddlers, and that’s always a futile battle. Happy to have another wrangler with me. Also an accessory to my crimes.”

He inched his hand towards hers, and when Y/N didn’t pull away instead liked her pinkie with his, a warm feeling rushed through him.

“Happy to be of help.”

***

It was two nights later or full two weeks since the six of them had been together when things took a turn.

Y/N’d always been a light sleeper, especially when her life was mainly placed in New York, but now, living in the middle of nowhere, she’d been able to catch up on some sleep. That was when the sound of her door being opened made Y/N shot up in her bed, sheets clutched at her chest in a panic. “What? What’s wrong? What did Calum set on fire?”

“Nothing.” Harry’s eyebrows scrunched up, but he decided not to ask. There was the morning for that. “This might seem weird, but could I uh could I possibly sleep in your room?”

She blinked a couple of times, because her brain was still processing his words and if they were even English, but once they registered, Y/N nodded, pulling back her blanket and scooting over. “C’mere.”

“Again, I’m sorr-“

Y/N shushed him, as Harry climbed in the bed, placing the duvet underneath his arm and twisting to see her, as she mumbled, “less talk, more sleep.”

He hummed in agreement. His eyes were heavy, in fact, they’d become heavy the instant his head had hit Y/N’s pillow, but it was like his heart, the same poor heart that’d had to deal with the newfound emotions for the whole time he’d been there, the same poor heart that didn’t know better and always gave itself away to the person it deemed to be worthy, no matter if in the end it ended up broken, took over the control of his eyes and mouth, and while slamming against Harry’s ribcage, he whispered his confession.

“I really like you… As more than a friend.”

A second passed. He felt Y/N stir as she turned towards him, brow furrowed. “Sorry?”

“I said…” He let out a shaky exhale. “I like you. I fell for you pretty much the second I entered the house and you threatened to throw me out because I was a guy. And then I fell for you when I saw you let loose in the studio. And then once more when I witnessed what your wrath entails.”

Y/N chuckled. “Cheese.”

“Yeah…” He let out a little laugh. “Cheese.”

A gentle palm went to brush away the hair stuck to Y/N’s face and he swore he could just melt as she leaned into his touch. “And then I fell for you when you said yes to singing my song… when you sang the lyrics, I dedicated to you… and every second I fall for you even more… I just… I thought you should know…”

“Well, I can only hope that you’ll take this as a compliment then, when I say I kinda like you too, Styles,” she mumbled snuggling deeper into her pillow. “Though I didn’t think I was your type.”

“What’s my type then?” he mumbled back, letting his arms wrap around Y/N’s waist when she shuffled closer. Not only was he now fully in heaven because he was covered by the softest duvet in the world, head resting against a literal cloud, but also because his nostrils were invaded by the gentlest of smells, and the body against his was the warmest of comforts.

“Well, not girls like me.”

“You mean talented, beyond funny and absolutely breath-taking?”

“Introverted, house hermits who don’t wash their hair unless they have to go somewhere with a perchance of self-destructive behaviour. Unintentional that is.”

Harry’s eyebrows lifted. “Would’ve never taken you for an introvert.”

“Mmmh,” Y/N sighed, feeling his fingers skim her skin. “That’s because I’ve known those guys for years, and they’re like my brothers. Couldn’t be uncomfortable even if I tried with them. We’ve seen too much of each other. But I’m definitely an introvert. Almost had a panic attack the first time I had to make my own doctor’s appointment.”

“You didn’t seem shy with me.”

“That’s because for some weird reason I… I didn’t feel awkward around you. And I mean, you did bring wine.”

She could feel Harry’s chest rumble as he laughed. “Well, I hope it helped with inspiration.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she huffed, but opened her bleary eyes and were met by Harry’s green already staring back. She couldn’t contain the giggle, and it only grew in power as he chuckled himself, making her bury her head in his chest.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head. “Just never thought I’d date someone from 1D.”

“Are we below you or something?” There was no trace of malice and hurt in his voice. He knew Y/N wasn’t like that.

“No, ‘s just my boy band phase was ‘Good Charlotte’, ‘Panic at the D!sco,’ ‘My Chem’ and the sort.”

“So, you weren’t fainting while listening to ‘You Don’t Know You’re Beautiful’?” Harry mumbled in Y/N’s hair, sleep slowly overtaking him.

She shook her head. “Sorry, no. Panties definitely weren’t dropping then.”

“Are they now?”

“According to ‘Watermelon Sugar’ you’re the one pulling all of ‘em off.”

“Damn. Guess it’ll have to be my new challenge.”

Y/N’s eyebrows scrunched up as she looked at him before promptly falling asleep. “Making my panties drop?”

“Yep. But this time because of me, not Gerard Way.”

“Bold of you to assume it was just Gerard Way. I’m a slut for all of those wizard dads.”

By the time she slurred out the last sentence both of them had drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

***

“They were right!” Harry shouted jumping up in the bed, startling Y/N awake once more as if something was breaking down on their heads with how urgently he jolted. “It does take women two weeks to fall in love and men 8 seconds.”

A pillow met his face. “Fall back asleep.”

He leaned over her still horizontal form, a smug smile on his face. “Are you gonna make a TikTok about it?”

“Probably ‘bout how I murdered the boyfriend I was with for three hours if he doesn’t let me sleep.”

He didn’t argue. With a smile on his face, Harry drifted off once more. Who knew that getting stuck in a hotel somewhere in Utah would lead him to the love of his life?

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Forever tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

A/N: So... I know I’ve been gone for quite a while, but that’s because I have a job now (I’m trying to get a different one that actually would involve my degree, because this one is absolutely killing me), so please be understanding with the spare posting. I still love writing fics, and as evident, I’m kina branching out into other fandoms :D

There’s a lot of things going on in my life, so if you wanna follow me you can do that on Instagram @dinnusa or @read_with_dee or on my blog dinnusa.wordpress.com :) I also have a TikTok @dinmasters

P.S. feedback is always appreciated :)

P.S.S. If you wanna be tagged please drop a message :) or if you want to be removed/ changed to a different tag list please also message me :)

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ceoofuwu · 4 years ago

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𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐒 ;; 𝘬𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘬𝘪 𝘹 𝘧.𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 𝟏.𝟔𝐤

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: you may be Bakugo’s sister but, no one in U.A. had ever known about your existence, until you decided to pay a visit... little did you know that Bakugo wasn’t the only familiar person there...

𝐓.𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: cursing (there’s Bakugo here, you shouldn’t expect any less lmao)

«What?! Bakugo has a sister?!» Mina exclaimed as she entered the living room, hardly having heard the rest of the discussion.

She sat herself cheerfully next to Kirishima, who had actually made space for her, quite eager to keep up with the gossip.

Not that she didn’t have every reason to. Bakugo was mysterious, kept things simple and to himself, always maintaining a distant and goal-oriented attitude, which didn’t allow for much personal investment. Therefore, wasn’t it reasonable for any given “friend” of his to be bound by curiosity?

«Oh shut up! As if you should care, raccoon eyes» he retorted coldly, with a casual murderous glare following shortly.

However, with her happy-go-lucky mindset and the habit of ignorantly listening to the merciless insults of the young hero, the pinkette didn’t mind him at all.

«I should, because when I become a pro hero, she might use some rescuing from me!» she announced, pointing to her gleeful self.

«Thanks, but I believe I can manage on my own».

A smooth, velvet voice cut through the room as the tapping of graceful steps reverberated. A pair of delicate legs strolling confidently, accompanying a perfectly-shaped body giving off waves of tremendous fortitude.

During the time Mina had spent in the Academy, she had never witnessed, not once Bakugo, the Bakugo, expressing his fear. Now, in the face of his sister, he was wearing a mask of exactly that feeling; terror.

«Is that… are you…» she attempted, feeling solely gaps of air leaving her mouth in stupefaction.

You ceased your pacing, offering everyone a friendly smile, escorted with a gentle wave of your hand.

«Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier. My name is Y/n».

«…you can also call her dumbass» Bakugo mumbled between clenched teeth, intending to make an impression of dominance but also wishing to hide from the tyrant of a woman opposite of him.

«Shut your hole boom-boom idiot!»

An array of giggles filled the air, lighting up the ambiance and therefore breaking the ice, before you noticed a black-haired boy observing you in what seemed to be… dread?

«So she’s also taken after your terribly unhealthy anger issues, huh?» his eyes shifted to your smirking brother while he spoke in a modest and careful voice, as if he had selected his words with extreme cautiousness, one by one.

Another polite smile tugged at your lips, despite feeling quite displeased by your first impression. «I’m nothing like this walking temper tantrum», your gaze travelled around the room, inspecting it and gradually getting used to the surroundings, «…so you are his class… mates…» your voice slowly faded away as you met with one specific, too familiar person in the room.

It couldn’t be… he couldn’t be here… or, could he? As far as you’re concerned you’re completely sane, which only means that you weren’t hallucinating. A lump had suddenly emerged in your throat and you’d swear your heart had skipped several beats upon realizing what was happening.

«Why the hell are you staring at dunce face?!» Bakugo yelled, fury steeping his features as the urge to protect you took over.

«Dunce… what?»

Denki slightly rolled his eyes, although he seemed to have gotten accustomed to his nickname, and sighed as he struggled to appear collected and unbothered. «Me».

You scoffed and immediately covered your mouth with your hand, to prevent an inappropriate laughter from coming out. You didn’t really enjoy making fun of others, especially people like him who stood so close to you, but… this just sounded too fitting.

Denki blushed and immediately looked away, in his miserable attempt to be “discreet”.

«Do you guys know each other?» a familiar-looking redhead boy enquired, pointing between you and Denki. Your acquaintance had his mouth half-hanging open, as if he was about to say something, until he met with the frightful message in your look.

No.

You were quick to turn and face the redhead, with calmness written in your features and say: «Not at all, I mean… I hardly know any of you… um… Kirishima, isn’t it?»

The boy’s crimson eyes widened in surprise by the mention of his name.

Seems like I got it right.

«My brother tends to mention you a lot at home…» yet another wave of surprise washing over him, «…mostly how shitty your hair is…» you paused and pondered a little on your words, «…although I beg to differ» you beamed.

Kirishima’s face resembled a mixture of contentedness and dejection. You supposed and hoped that the former was on you.

Even so, for some odd reason, Bakugo was still keeping an eye on Denki. Not that the latter was acting with any prudence whatsoever, what with his nervously avoiding everyone’s eyes in the room.

«So… um… is there a bathroom… somewhere around here..?» you asked timidly, feeling the need to freshen yourself up and relieve some of the tension of this fairly messed up situation.

Soon after, thanks to your brother’s interference, you arrested yourself in that longed-for bathroom, taking a breather in silence and clearing your mind.

Before arriving at U.A. you weren’t really sure how to feel. On the one hand, you genuinely anticipated finally meeting all those amazing, gifted teens that had got themselves involved into so many scandalous episodes. On the other hand, you were doubting your social capabilities of interaction and trembled at the mere thought of stumbling over your words, or making a mess of something as simple a task as that, in general. In fact, an array of worst case scenarios was bombarding your head, even until the second you stepped your foot in that room.

However, discovering that Denki, your Denki, was actually one of the renowned class 1-A students?

That seemed nearly inconceivable to you.

Indeed, you had been dating with the guy for several months now, yet, without neither of you realizing, the hero studies topic had never been brought up; at least not in terms of specification.

So… Denki was a basically a hero… someone capable of coming to your rescue at any given moment… a hero…

«I hope you’re lost in your thoughts about me» an all too familiar voice was heard from the door.

Speak of the devil and the devil will come.

«Denki, what the hell?! How-- why did you come here?!» you called frantically, all the while taking alarming looks around to make sure your privacy was guaranteed.

«Don’t panic. We’re alone. Besides, my dorm is nearby~» he chimed, taking small steps closer to you simultaneously.

«So you used your dorm as an excuse to…?»

«Don’t play dumb, Y/n… you know better than anyone why I’m here…» your boyfriend whispered while slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his slim body.

You felt the temperature rising in your cheeks and your mind suddenly going blank, as though a fuzzy mist had been blurring everything. You had decided to come here merely to relax before proceeding to make new acquaintances. You couldn’t figure out whether this was happening due to Denki being one hell of a horny pervert or his being a complete and utter idiot. Come to think of it, both statements were suitable at the moment.

In the meantime, Denki was ranting about his plans, his dorm and many other stuff that you didn’t care too much to pay attention to.

«You are a dunce face» you giggled, trying not to focus too much on his golden gaze, which almost pierced holes through your own eyes.

«What did you say?» his face was beginning to distort into a suggestive expression, his lips gradually stretching into a devilish smile.

«You… are… a dunce face» you repeated teasingly and more confidently this time, despite feeling the embarrassment crawling up on you on the inside.

«A dunce face…» he hummed after you, before pushing you gently against a wall, with you hardly realizing, «I wonder where you picked that up from…» he teased, his fingertips sliding underneath your shirt grazing your back, sending minor waves of electricity down your spine with every brush whilst eliciting slight gasps.

Your lust-blown eyes remained locked the entire time, forming some kind of connection, as your breaths were little by little merging into one and the space between you was getting smaller by every second passing. You couldn’t hold your urgencies back anymore; your arms glided on his shoulders, eventually getting wrapped around his neck, as your head titled to the side allowing to the blonde to lean in and touch his lips on yours.

The subtle electroshocks being produced on your back combined with the feeling of soft lips dancing with even softer ones, wasn’t aiding you at all to restrain that low, throaty moan that escaped from your vocals.

The kiss was slow and yet, steeped with passion, dripping with all these raw emotions that were generated every time you’d encounter one another. Denki had you melting, desperately hanging on to him, as if he was your life line. As he nibbled on your bottom lip, you broke apart, both panting, your lungs burning for air, prior to your foreheads touching intimately, trying to calm your rapidly beating hearts.

«You should lock that doo—«

«GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF HER, DUNCE FACE!»

Before you even had the time to process what had just happened, Denki had done a runner, sprinting as fast as he could as he was being chased down by an infuriated Bakugo. It’s a pity you were marooned like this but, oh well, he was the one who had left the door unclosed….

Hope you enjoyed! Leave a heart, comment, reblog! 💕

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mycatshuman · 4 years ago

Text

Wrapped Up In A Romcom

Virgil Has A Fall

I'm sorry that I haven't really been posting. I think my mental health hasn't been too good. If you could let me know what you think, it'd be a great motivator to get me to work on this fic and my others more. You don't have to but I'd appreciate it.

A big thanks to @lehuka123 for reading this you're great.

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Virgil had been interested in history since he was a young child. One of the things that stood out to him often was his fascination with ancient Egypt and their mummies. Of course, King Tut was one of his favorites. He was absolutely spellbound by Tutankhamun. The mysterious boy king and his mostly untouched tomb full of wonderful treasures drew in Virgil's attention like a moth to a flame. It was unlike most things at that age.

Just as King Tut kept his attention, so did the mummies. Virgil still remembers a book his grandmother had gifted him that came with a poster on the mummification process. He found it very interesting how they went about preserving their dead.

Perhaps his fascination with mummies began with the Mummy movies. Or maybe he just got the interest in it from his mom and grandmother. Most likely, it was a bit of both. And as he grew older, he found himself devouring history with joy. Books, movies, tv shows, documentaries, nearly anything he could get his hands on. There was something so enticing about the cultures and the people who had lived before him. It was certainly no surprise to the people who knew Virgil when he went to college for a degree in archeology after high school.

Soon enough, Virgil was off on a trip to Africa for his first archeological dig in the sands of Egypt. He was very nervous and very excited. Although, he didn't have high expectations on his chances of finding anything "breaking news" worthy.

After all, it would be his first dig and it could often take weeks to find anything. By the time he was to return home, he might not find but a third of an ancient jug. Whatever Virgil expected from his trip, it was most certainly not what he got.

----------------------

It had been a long, hot day in the sun as Virgil shifted through sand and worked to discover ancient artifacts buried in the sands near the foundation of an ancient Egyptian home. He had shifted through sand for hours sweating his ass off only to find a few pieces of what he theorized to be an ancient plate.

Still, he was very proud of himself for his find. An ancient plate was still a piece of history after all.

Virgil stayed up long after the other archeologists and workers went to bed to just- take everything in. It was almost hard for him to believe that he was here. In Egypt. He could only imagine how it must have looked back in the time of the mighty pharaohs. It made him feel jittery inside. Like he had swallowed a whole bathtub full of pop rocks and they were all popping simultaneously in his stomach. He had too much energy for him to lay down and go to bed. But he had to get to bed soon. He would be heading into the city tomorrow to buy some more supplies for the camp. All those people would drain all the energy he had. And it was not going to be good for his social anxiety.

So he decided to take a small walk to settle his nerves and expellmost of his energy, but not before making sure he had his emergency pack. His emergency pack was filled with three flashlights, ten packs of batteries, twenty lighters, five bottles of water, two ropes, a phone, a radio, 10 flares, a charger cord, a first aid kit, and four rechargeable battery packs for his phone. He also made sure to grab his phone. That was the one thing he didn't keep in his emergency pack. He just made sure to take it because it would be easier on his anxiety. Once Virgil checked to make sure he had everything in his pack, he set off on his late night walk.

He walked through the sands for about an hour. The night's bright full moon hanging in the sky above him helpfully lighting his way. It was peaceful. Nice and calming. When Virgil finally felt the gentle fingers of sleep pulling at him, he turned to go back...only to be pulled down into the sand as gravity pulled it into an empty space underneath the sands. Virgil screamed as he fell and landed hard on stone. He stopped screaming with a grunt. The sand still trickled down around him but much less now than it had been at first. Virgil rubbed his back as he glanced around at the ominous darkness around him. A small circle of light came from the hole about ten feet above him from where he had fallen through, lighting a small area around him. He shakily fumbled around for his backpack and pulled out a flashlight and flicked it on.

Virgil swept the flashlight around to gain his bearings and find a way out of the situation he seemed to find himself in. "Oh great, I don't see another way up." He sighed. He aimed the light around and inspected the space around him. "Seems to be a passageway way," he hummed to himself, barely keeping himself from panicking. It would be no good for him if he panicked now. A glance behind showed a dead end. He let out a huff. "I guess I'll have to go this way." He stood up and winced as pain shot up his left leg. A look down showed that his ankle was swelling. "Must have sprained it." Virgil tentatively began limping forward, keeping his flashlight swinging from side to side to keep an eye out for anything dangerous.

Soon, he came to a doorway and gazed in only for his jaw to drop in amazement. "Oh my god! This is an antechamber!" All around him stood various treasures such as large statues, couches, and beds all decorated with gold and precious stones. Virgil's eyes were wide in amazement as he stared around at all of the stunning artifacts before him. Virgil moved deeper into the room and found two more doorways as he tried to catch glimpses of the paintings on the walls. One of the doors lead straight ahead and the other to the right. After taking a moment to decide, he went to the right and entered the other room.

What he saw had him freezing in his tracks. There, before him stood an ornate golden sarcophagus. He had found the burial chamber. The walls were painted in beautiful colors that depicted the life of the person placed here. Virgil could already tell this was someone of importance if all the treasure was any indication. The outstanding craftsmanship of the sarcophagus only confirmed that suspicion. Virgil stumbled forward, awestruck by the image before him. Tentatively, he ran a gentle hand along the sarcophagus. He directed his flashlight at the cartouche on the lid and translated the hieroglyphs. "King Roman…" he whispered softly. His fingers delicately traced over the hieroglyphs. "Hello, King Roman," he said gently. "I can't wait for your people to hear about you. That'll be one more piece of the puzzle in their heritage." Virgil moved further down the sarcophagus and inspected the rest of the lid. He frowned as he came across what looked to be a spell or curse of sorts. He leaned forward and translated out loud. "Shall my resting place be disturbed on a full moon by a young male, may my last wish be granted." Virgil shivered and took a step back from the sarcophagus.

"Okay, I think it's time for me to leave." He turned to leave and find another exit only to freeze when a loud noise sounded from behind him. Then he heard sliding. Quickly, he spun around to find the lid of the sarcophagus moving. Virgil stared wide eyed as the lid was shoved off and the mummy within sat up and turned to face him. He watched with disbelief as the mummy's hand rose up and began to unwrap the bandages from their head as if they were freshly placed. Slowly, a handsome face revealed itself from beneath the cloth. Gorgeous brown eyes, like rich soil that you knew would sprout beautiful new life, stared back at him. The archaeologist's jaw dropped as the other before him smirked.

"Well, you certainly don't disappoint."

🔺️🔺️🔺️🔺️🔺️🔺️🔺️🔺️🔺️🔺️🔺️🔺️🔺️🔺️🔺️🔺️🔺️

Taglist: @misery-killed-me @superwholocked-for-life @mirror2thespirit @aroundofapplesauce @lyditist @little-euro-girl @unicornofdarknessstuff @odette-ssbu @ray-does-stuff

Maybe you could let me know if this is worth it to continue posting?

#prinxiety #ts virgil #ts prinxiety #ts roman #roman sanders #virgil sanders #mycatshuman fics #mycatshuman writing #WUIARC #wrapped up in a rom com #thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides au #no read more

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hazbincalifornia · 3 years ago

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Help

My gift for a secret santa I participated in!

Summary: Blitzo gets hurt on a job on the night of a full moon, and figures he can just push through it. Stolas has other ideas.

Rating: T

Warnings: Injury, brief IMP-related gore, nonsexual nudity.

Wordcount: 5640

Ao3 link

It was muddy. By now, Blitzo was pretty damn used to any sort of Earth environment- he even quite liked rain, as it was genuinely refreshing and he could see through it a lot better than targets could from how much fun cat-and-mouse games became. Nothing like getting two feet behind someone and seeing their horrified reaction as they realized they were screwed before getting to plug holes in their face.

Still, mud thick enough to make lifting his feet a chore and sticking his heels in every time he tried? Yeah, that sucked no matter how many times you’ve dealt with it, and he mostly wanted the job to be over so he could get home and wash up before tonight’s meeting with Stolas. (The guy might be into him walking in all dirty and rugged in, like, a lumberjack-flannel top, but he didn’t want to push it on those fancy sheets.) Blitzo sucked in a breath as the mud made another squelching ‘shllllk’ noise, his foot nearly coming out of the boot again. The target lived on the edge of swamp, and it must have rained just before they got there, because finding them in the mess of thick trees that they knew far better than any of IMP on top of the muck was becoming a massive chore.

“C’more, kitty kitty kitty…” Blitzo clicked his tongue. “I’ll even make it fast if you stop being a pussy-footed little bitch and face your death with some dignity, the last guy got offed when he was on the shitter and it smelled like- well, you can guess.”

A faint ‘fuck off!’ echoed from somewhere to the right, and he let off a warning shot in that direction, getting a yelp that curled his mouth up into a slight grin.

“You two, fan out. Moxx, ahead and right, Millie, towards that one tree that kinda looks like a wizard’s dick. I’ll go straight right. One of us is bound to find her.”

The couple nodded, following their directions as Blitzo’s toes curled underneath the leather, trying to be a lot more stealthy than was reasonably possible in this muck. There was water dripping from the trees and animals skittering on the branches, but he could hear breathing, breathing that sounded too loud to be from anything but a human- particularly one that had just gotten a hell of a cardio workout. He grinned, taking one more step-

And promptly tripped over a protruding root and slammed into the ground, sinking full inches into the mud as pain shot up his leg. He shoved himself up by his hands, spitting and cussing, just in time to see Millie give a mighty swing and separate the target’s head from their body with a joyful whoop.

Well, that was one problem solved.

Unfortunately, not only was he filthy, which was a somewhat easily-solvable state, his leg nearly collapsed under him when he managed to get back up on it, which was… slightly bigger of a problem.

“Shit, Blitz, you okay?” Millie offered a hand when he stumbled against a tree, sweat dripping down the side of his face as he tried to scrub some of the mossy mud off his perfect mug.

“Fine, just… fuck, think I twisted my ankle or something.”

“I’ll text Loona to open the portal back up,” she said as Moxxie’s head popped into view between a fork in the tree.

“You got her?”

Millie nodded. “I got her. Blitz’s foot got messed up, though.”

“Don’t-” He grimaced. “Don’t worry about me, just need some ice and it’ll be fine.”

(The throbbing in his ankle disagreed, but he ignored it.)

_____

Ice did not make it fine. Okay, it helped a little, but not nearly as much as he would have liked, as the swelling had gone down but it still hurt like a bitch to put any significant amount of weight on, and from the text Stolas had sent earlier about coming with a whistle and sweatpants, they were going to do some kind of sports coach thing, which would… probably necessitate walking around instead of just having the guy bounce on his dick once he got on the bed. Fuck. Well, he’d find a way to lessen the pain and ride through it, the same way he did everything. What else was he supposed to do, call up Stolas and say he had a little boo-boo and could they please cancel the one reason they even could do their jobs to begin with? Yeah, he wasn’t having that conversation.

An hour later, (and after awkwardly jamming his injured foot under the seat so he could press both the gas and brake with his in-injured one) he was sitting in front of the Goetia palace. Thank fuck Stolas had said to just go in the front door, at least he didn’t have to scale up to the ivory fuckin’ tower tonight.

The stairs were intimidating but manageable if he leaned most of his weight on his left foot and sort of dragged the right behind him, especially considering the tranquilizers currently buzzing through his system that dulled most pain to a low drone. (Dulled everything to a low drone, actually, but he could work through that- he’d shot up with way worse stuff than this before, and at least this one came from a pharmacy. Sure, it said ‘for use on horses or really big bitches’, but he’d only taken like… three-quarters of the dose, so it was fine. Roughly three-quarters. There was still a little left in the needle when he pulled it out, anyway, and he’d downed a cup of coffee afterwards to not kill his energy too much.)

He knew his way to the master bedroom, but getting there was going to be a bit of a feat at the moment and he gritted his teeth, leaning against the wall. He smudged a couple of low-hanging paintings in the process, but they were of ugly fuckers he didn’t like the look of anyway, so it was no big loss. The few staff members that he ran into mostly just ignored him, which was fine by him- the one that offered a hand saw how sweaty he was when she got close and rescinded the offer anyway, so it was for the best. This was his problem, he didn’t need anybody treating him like a baby who couldn’t handle his own goddamn business-floating booty call.

Why did Stolas have to live at the top of the stairs again? At least the attire for the night was cozy and not the kind that rode directly up his ass, even though the whistle was bouncing against his chest every couple of steps. Blitzo was practically hopping by the end, and the tranquilizers were mixing funny with the coffee, considering how his vision was starting to swim on the edges. He took an indulgent moment to shiver before he grasped at the doorknob, taking a deep breath before flinging it open.

“Gooood evening, Stolas.”

“Oh, there you are Blitzy!” Stolas gave a delighted hoot, and Blitzo took a moment to drink in the sight- he’d dressed himself in tight red shorts and a blue crop top that had a cute little star pattern repeating over it. If he’d been a little less woozy, his boner probably would have popped up a lot faster, but as-is, Stolas’s eager grin fell a little. “Are you- is everything alright? Normally you’re-”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine.” Blitzo waved a hand, eyes tracking around the room for whatever they were going to use- Stolas had gotten them to bring a goddamn treadmill in next to the balcony, of all things. If he was supposed to use that, he was going to strangle fate for laughing at him. “You need coach to show you the fun kind of workout?” He could tell that his grin was somewhat lopsided as he tilted his head, but Stolas unfolded himself from the bed before kneeling in front of him and feeling at his head.

“You look sweaty… did you just not get a chance to clean up before coming over?” he tutted, and Blitzo pushed his hand away. Nosy bitch.

“I did bathe, for your information.” (The fact that it had mostly been sitting on the bathtub with his leg propped up and scrubbing at his face notwithstanding.) “You just decided to live in the furthest room from the front door just to annoy me.”

“You’ve never had any problem with it before. You’re a very fit, athletic little imp, that’s part of where the idea for tonight’s game came from.” Stolas said, toying with the whistle around Blitzo’s neck for a moment before nodding as if he’d come to a decision without bothering to keep the only other guy in the room in the loop. He settled back down on the bed, patting next to him. “Come. Up.”

Blitzo bristled. “If you’re gonna just treat me like a fuckin’ little show pony-”

“Oh, perish the thought! If I wanted to do that, we’d have something far more befitting that atmosphere. I could get a bit… hmm. I’ll mark that one down for later. Anyway!” He patted the sheets again, and Blitzo gritted his teeth as he took a few careful steps across the room before (embarrassingly clumsily) scrambling up the giant bed. Stolas’s fingers brushed feather-light over his back, and he tutted. “Your muscles aren’t tense, at least. I thought a massage might help.”

“Yeah, that’s the-” Blitzo cut himself off.

“That’s the what?”

“Nothing. Had some booze before I came over, that’s all.” Blitzo turned his face away, but Stolas sighed.

“I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong. I’m not going to continue with our activities until I know that you’re well enough for them.”

“I’m not- look, I’m fine, okay?” Being on the bed did sort of help, with his leg just dangling off the side instead of bearing his weight, but Stolas’s eyes were still narrowed and his shoulders were slumped slightly as he looked Blitzo up and down.

“We can reschedule-”

“Oh, fuck no. You get the book and the fuck one night a month. You don’t get to-” The word died in his throat for a moment. “Once. That’s it.”

“Then I’m not in the mood tonight, and we’ll have to find some other way to fill our time.” Stolas fluffed up a pillow next to him, and Blitzo raised an eyebrow.

“Really?” Come on, he could work through it. Sure, it’d hurt like a bitch in the morning after the tranq faded, but until then, he just needed to find a good position. Let it never be said that he was a little bitch who couldn’t carry through on his promises. He’d just said that Stolas only got one, he couldn’t change the rules halfway through and pretend that was fine, that he could just take away the one thing Blitzo had to offer-

“Yes, really.” He stood up and stretched, tail flicking and the low lights bathing his shiny feathers in a soft glow. “Come bathe with me instead.”

…If he found the right angle, maybe hooking the bad leg up, shower sex didn’t sound too bad right now. He did feel kind of grody again. Blitzo nodded, about to slide off the bed, but Stolas scooped him up before he could.

“Hey!”

“Ah ah ah. I’m taking care of you for the night, darling.” Blitzo glanced down at the ground (that really was further than it should be, even taking Stolas being a leggy bastard into account, was the stuff fucking with his depth perception?) and sighed before allowing himself to be carried across the room.

Stolas smelled like lotion and fancy body spray, as well as the slight undercurrent of brimstone and ancient power that was impossible to smother no matter how many personal care products he used. Blitzo’s cheek smushed against the bare feathers underneath the crop top as Stolas nudged the door to the bathroom more fully open with his elbow. “What would you prefer, blueberry sunrise or peppermint rainbow?”

“Uh… mint, I guess,” Blitzo said. “I thought we were gonna shower.”

“Some other day perhaps.” Stolas slowly lowered Blitzo down onto the closed lid of the toilet next to the bath. “If you’ll disrobe, I’ll fill the tub.”

Blitzo tugged his shirt off easily enough, but had to grit his teeth as he rolled his sweatpants down over his ankles. Jitters were starting to tremble underneath his skin, and his hands shook as he felt both more and less pain than he should have when he tugged the fabric off entirely. At least he’d gone commando underneath, so he didn’t have to deal with taking his underwear off too.

Stolas removed his clothes while the tub started to fill, but when he glanced back at Blitzo, he didn’t start drooling like usual, just gave an approving nod and went back to testing the temperature with a hand.

Blitzo didn’t really know what to do with that as the water poured into the bathtub and Stolas carefully drizzled out a cupful of something greenish that bubbled up the surface. The air began to steam, and the heat made his now-exposed ankle throb as Stolas set the cup down, clapping his hands together.

“There we go! Mm, mint was a good choice.”

“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ aces at choosing shit,” Blitzo said as Stolas leaned forward to pick him back up. “I can get in myself, you know, I’m not-”

“This is a very tall tub by your standards. As flexible as you are, I don’t want you to slip and crack your skull open, it’d make such a dreadful mess,” Stolas said, easing both of them down into the water. “Just relax, Blitzy. You’re safe here.”

He was settled in Stolas's somewhat bony lap by the time that he blinked, and realized very quickly that the tub was, indeed, too deep to slip out of- considering his fucked ankle and the general height of the thing, he’d probably slip under if he didn’t remain precariously balanced between birdy thighs. Stolas closed his legs to provide a slightly better seat, scooping up a handful of bubbles and blowing them into the air with the iridescent soap glittering rainbow in the ambient lights. He’d begun to hum something, but it had the faint echo of a half-forgotten lullaby, and the steam, mint scent, and soft feathers around him created a soporific effect that had Blitzo’s eyes fluttering half-shut. The thought of drifting away was so appealing, but… he was so vulnerable, what if Stolas...?

(If he was going to do anything, he would have already, some far-down part of his brain murmured. Why bother doing this at all instead of fucking like they agreed, out on the bed instead of here in the bathtub where they were naked and exposed but his hands weren’t anywhere below the waist…?)

Blitzo shifted a bit, freezing as Stolas’s hands settled on his back again, gently kneading at the muscles.

“You’re usually so tense, when I’m touching you on our nights together, when I’m clawing down your back or you’re pressed against me…”

“I’m a busy guy, just gotta stay on top of shit,” Blitzo muttered, feeling vaguely like the steam had sunk through his skin and turned his muscles to goop. “Can’t let my guard down is all. Can’t let anybody get one over, everybody needs me or it’d all start going… going…” Oh, he was rambling. Shutting up time. Now. He cleared his throat. “Anyway. It’s just ‘cause I’m making sure you’re having a good time and shit, I’m not gonna be a selfish little bitch when we’re doing this for both of us, y’know?” Stolas’s fingers drifted down, tiptoing over Blitzo’s arms before flipping his palm up and intertwining their fingers. Between the fact that his hands were thick and Stolas’s were thin, their usual size difference didn’t really matter. They fit perfectly. Blitzo’s tail curled somewhere around Stolas’s waist as he looked down at them.

“You do enjoy our nights as well, don’t you?” Stolas’s fingers twitched slightly. “I appreciate you being a gentleman about it, but… well, I assumed that you finishing meant that you were having a good time. I suppose I should know from experience that’s not necessarily the case.”

“I…” Blitzo shook his head, and Stolas tensed at that for a moment before the imp tilted his head up to see four pairs of wide eyes. “I like this just fine, okay? I agreed to this. I’m fine with it. It’s fun enough, you’re not dragging me in kicking and screaming to have a guy who genuinely loves my cock pay it attention once a month, y’know? You’re good.”

Something in his tone had Stolas relax around him. “Mmm, good.” Stolas nuzzled the side of his head. “Was it simply a long day at work?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“I’d like to hear about it, if you’d indulge me, darling.”

The words spilled from his lips in a rush- about how the target was a total bitch who made them chase her into the fucking mud, how it took ages to scrub it out of his clothes, how Millie had at least gotten a great shot in with her axe… he only barely stopped himself short of spilling about his ankle, but Stolas noticed his hesitation.

“Did something else happen? I… I want to help, if I can.”

Blitzo’s eyes dropped, crossing his arms. “Nothing.”

“Are you sure?” Stolas’s chest rumbled slightly as he spoke, and it made Blitzo shudder at the edge of pleading on the honeyed words dripping from the beak just above him.

“Okay, I mighta maybe kinda sorta probably sprained my ankle because that fuckface-”

Stolas tutted. “Goodness, and you expected to just be able to come here and fuck me just like that?”

“Sure I did. That’s how this shit works. I’ve still gotta come if I’m tired or whatever, and it’s not like I haven’t worked through bad shit before during the day.”

“Not for me,” Stolas said in a tone so certain that it hit like a brick wall. His hand dropped under the water, tracing along Blitzo’s leg before the palm settled flat on the swollen ankle, and he winced. “Goodness, how did I notice that before?”

“I was wearing thick socks, and then you dropped me right in the merry mint bubble bath of bliss here, so not sure when you would have.”

“Still.” Stolas tutted, and Blitzo grimaced as his fingers pressed down on the skin.

“Watch it, it only really hurts if you touch it right now.”

“My apologies, but this takes physical contact.”

“What does- ooooooh fuck.” Blitzo slumped back as magical heat layered on top of the warm water he was already soaking in spun through his foot, concentrating upwards until the twinges of pain faded completely. “Gotta say, I recommend the service here. Top notch, Stolas.”

“Why, thank you.” Stolas was bemused as he pressed a kiss to the back of Blitzo’s head. “It’s not perfect, but you should find it back to normal by the morning. I didn’t want to overdo it and accidentally make one foot stronger than the other.”

“Honestly, the idea of having one foot that just kicks ass at kicking ass is kind of hot,” Blitzo said, raising the previously-injured food and rolling it. Sure enough, it didn’t feel like jabbing glass anymore. “Huh. What do you know.”

“I take good care of what’s mine,” Stolas murmured, and that had Blitzo’s chest turn over on itself.

His.

Right.

“So you wanna go back to getting hot and heavy? Not that I don’t appreciate the fancy-ass bath, I’m going to smell like a candy cane nightmare for days, but-”

“Not tonight, I’m afraid- I’d hate to get messy after we got all clean, wouldn’t you?”

“You fucked me while in a dinosaur costume once, I don’t assume anything anymore.” It was an excuse and Blitzo knew it, but when his foot slipped back into the tub with a splash, he slumped back a little. “You sure? It’ll be another month before you can go back to poundtown.”

“I waited so long for you to light up my life in the first place, Blitzy, I can manage thirty more days.” He gave a little laugh. “I don’t want to strain you when you aren’t well- besides, you sound exhausted and we haven’t started yet. I doubt either of us want you passing out on me mid-coitus.”

“Coitus? Seriously? Call it fucking like…” To his irritation at Stolas being proven right, he had to force back a yawn in the middle of his sentence. “...Like a normal person, Stolas.”

“I’ll call it whatever I want,” Stolas replied breezily. “I said it in those words before, didn’t I? My vocabulary aside, I believe there’s a set of pillows that are calling our names when we’re done here.”

So they really weren’t going to do anything tonight. Oozing warmth bubbled at the base of Blitzo’s belly, and he swallowed.

This was… it had to be just to make up something really batshit for next month, right? Stolas didn’t want a disappointing fuck while he was partially out of commission and half-high, and he was old as balls anyway, so he could wait.

He normally didn’t like waiting, though, not by how often he’d used to call, so deciding to forgo sex entirely instead of just doing something low-key like stretching Blitzo out and blowing him… why, why why? It didn’t make any sense, not in the way Blitzo understood the world. Stolas liked him around because he was hot and had a big dick and was good at bossing him around in bed to make up for some weird control issues that he had in the outside world. The sun in Pride was red, people were always gonna want other people splatted on the upholstery, and Stolas just cared about him as a convenient fucktoy. That was the way of the world, and he’d accepted that, lived with it these last few months. He couldn’t ask for anything more, (even- or especially- if some part of him wanted to) or everything could come tumbling down, and everybody else with it.

While he’d been musing, Stolas had reached for a towel to wipe off Blitzo’s soapy shoulders, brushing over the skin. More than anything, Blitzo was reminded of how he cleaned up Loona after nights out, when she’d gotten messy in one way or another. Fortunately, he didn’t have fur to get gunk out of, but Stolas was nevertheless being just as careful with him, rubbing in circular motions. The steam and generally moist air made the towel pleasantly damp, and Blitzo couldn’t help sagging into it. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched him this… meticulously. Not so much like he was fragile, but like he was something that deserved gentleness, attentiveness, care.

“That’s it, darling…” Stolas cooed, setting the towel aside and wiggling one arm under Blitzo’s armpits with the other beneath his knees, standing up in one motion before stepping over the edge of the tub.

“You’re bein’ all… gentlemanly and shit. It’s weird,” Blitzo mumbled, fighting back another yawn.

“I do have my moments.” Stolas pressed a kiss to his forehead, and Blitzo only realized that his tail was lazily winding up Stolas’s arm when the owl shifted his position to better hold his weight. (He just wanted more stability, that was all.)

Another blink and he was laying in bed, still naked as anything before Stolas handed him the sweatpants he’d walked in with. “No pajamas that would fit you, I’m afraid, but you could put these back on if you’d like.”

Blitzo considered for a moment before tugging them on. The absence of pain in his ankle nagged like a loose tooth. Stolas just wanted to fix him so he’d be better at fucking him. Stolas was currently settling down on his own pillow, holding an arm out to snuggle, but not pressing any further than that. Both were true, somehow, (they had to be, one was the only way he could understand all of this and one was right in front of him) and Blitzo’s head was spinning.

For now, as Stolas’s hand drooped and he started to pull it back to himself, it was easier to just… slide over, resting his forehead against the soft feathered chest and give in to unconsciousness.

_____

“Fuck!” Blitzo teetered precariously on the chair dragged over from the room over, arm outstretched as he tried to reach the sprinkles that were, for some shit-forsaken reason, on the shelf so high he doubted even Stolas could reach without stretching.

He’d woken up curled into Stolas’s body, the owl sleep-hooting, and shoved down the twisty, turny feeling in his guts.

Okay, so they didn’t fuck. Can’t take the risk that Stolas would realize he didn’t actually need him. Be proactive. Make himself useful. Fuck, he needed coffee, but the beans were probably hidden in one of the fifty billion cabinets in the kitchen, so he was just going to have to muscle through it for a while and get something once he left.

The plan, for now, was to make eggs and toast. Nothing super complicated, he could do both of those things without burning the whole place to the ground, and Stolas would hopefully like it. (And make that soft little smile that made his face light up like the warmest sunrise- focus, Blitzo, focus.) The toast needed sprinkles, though, or it wouldn’t stand out, wouldn’t look like he’d put some effort in. He knew, vaguely, that imps probably had a different palette than owls did, but fuck it, at least it’d look pretty, but only if he could get the damn things. Stretch, streeeeeetch- aha!

The chair finally gave up, crashing forwards just as Blitzo lunged upwards, using the momentum of the falling chair to jump up and snatch at the container. Success! He landed easily on his feet, patting himself on the shoulder for a job well done. Off to a good start!

Unfortunately, while the stove wasn’t fuckoff huge like the stuff in Stolas’s room tended to be, it was made for an average-sized sinner, not an imp. Standing on a chair made him too tall, but trying to stand on his tiptoes wasn’t tall enough, so he ended up having to sort of awkwardly crouch while cracking the eggs. That led to having to fish out more than one bit of shell, but he was pretty sure that he got all of them? One egg had to be scrambled because he’d chased the hunk of shell around the yolk with a spoon, and then he had to scramble the rest of them just to be consistent. Since he was scrambling anyway and there was a fancy, rich-people mixer with a ton of buttons right next to the stove… he poured the eggs in. It could mix them smoother, and that would be good.

It was not good. It took fifteen minutes to clean the splattered mess off because some idiot had it still set to ‘high speed so it throws shit everywhere’, and he definitely got raw egg in his mouth multiple times in the process. He had to go back to the stove again and had to just stir it like a peasant.

The toaster took three tries to get something at least 75% crisp and golden over solid black, but in his defense, it wasn’t labeled at all, and every goddamn toaster in Hell had different timing on the notches. (Personally, he usually had to smack the one back at home to get it to release the toast before it burnt to a crisp, but occasionally it admitted fear when he growled at it and let the toast go without a fight. This one, at least, popped the bread back up when he used the little tab.)

In the end, he had three pieces of mostly-okay toast with butter and sprinkles, and a lump of eggs that were runny enough to join a marathon but didn’t smell too bad. Egg goo oozed over the side of the plate for a solid minute as he tried to corral them back into place with a spoon in order to carry up to the bedroom, snarling all the while.

“Come on, you stupid fuckin crybaby fetus-goo-chucklefucks, it’s not like the floor is gonna be any better for you than Stolas’s guts-”

“Blitzy?” Blitzo whipped around to see Stolas rubbing his eyes, bathrobe draped loosely over his shoulders. “I assumed you’d already taken your leave, when I woke up alone.”

“I, ah…” Blitzo considered for a moment. “I made breakfast.” He held out the plate, and Stolas blinked in surprise before leaning forward to take it. “Normally I’m hot shit in the kitchen, but I had to improvise a little, alright?”

Stolas leaned forward, placing a kiss on Blitzo’s cheek that probably still tasted vaguely like raw egg. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

“I was just, y’know, since last night you didn’t get to get any… anyway. Bon appetit.” Blitzo sucked in a breath as Stolas scooped up some of the egg using a piece of toast and took a bite. No indication that it was anything other than decent as he swallowed, hopping up on the counter with a satisfied hum. He was smiling, and his whole body was relaxed as he finished the piece of toast.

“I must say, the sprinkles are an inspired idea.”

“I’ve been doing it since I was a kid,” Blitzo said, chest puffing out a bit. “It’s good, isn’t it?”

“Very much so, although I’m not sure if it’s the taste or the way they look. Like strange little modernist paintings,” Stolas said, lifting one up and watching the half-melted bits of color slide around like rain down a window.

“Why not both? Food and a work of art. I’m a talented guy.” A grin spread across his face as he leaned against the chair next to him, before his weight shifted it to the side and he stumbled, thrown off-balance. “Fuck!”

Stolas lifted his fork to his mouth as he muffled a little laugh, and Blitzo scoffed.

“Oh, sure, yuk it up. You need leg caps on this thing or somebody is gonna fall flat on their face and sue you or some shit.” Blitzo brushed at his chest when Stolas shifted over, nodding at the countertop next to himself. “What? No, I made it for you.”

“I can share,” Stolas said, tearing one of the remaining pieces of bread in half and offering it to Blitzo. “Please, for me?”

“Fine, but just ‘cause I’m hungry,” Blitzo said, grabbing the piece out of Stolas’s hand and nibbling on the edge. “I know the eggs are kinda shit, but-”

“They’re fine,” Stolas insisted. “You made them, that's more than enough for me. I’m…” He took a moment. “I’m flattered that you took the time to do this. I only really have you for the one night, and I wanted to make sure that you were alright... Considering you managed to roll out of bed without even waking me and prepared this, I assume the healing spell worked. I would have liked to have gotten to chat a bit more last night, but you needed the rest. There's always next time, I suppose.” Stolas clicked his tongue and scooped up a forkful of egg, watching the liquid part drain between the tines before taking a bite. “Mm!”

"You'd really just want to talk?"

Stolas swallowed and nodded. "How you use the book on your job, or just about whatever you'd like to tell me. You're a fascinating specimen, darling, and I could listen to you forever." His eyes were half-lidded and his smile was soft, and Blitzo felt the same prickle of adoration as last night when Stolas had been carefully toweling him off. He cleared his throat.

"Nothing like my sexy, sexy voice ranting about how the cheap-ass machines in the laundromat fucked up my shirts to put you in the mood." Blitzo pinched a fingerful of scrambled egg mush and dropped it in his mouth- not his best, but not a disaster. “You know…” He rolled the words around in his brain for a few seconds longer than usual, hopping up on the counter and straightening up to a standing position so he was eye-to-eye with Stolas before letting them spill out. “I could try again at home, where I actually know how to use shit, and make you some eggs that’ll make you really jizz your birdy butt off.”

“For next full moon?” Stolas raised an eye, and Blitzo crossed his arms, heel bouncing on the too-clean floor.

“For whenever. I don’t think we’ve got a job on Thursday, if you can pry your ass off that giant bed on time.”

Stolas lit up, butt bouncing on the marble. “I’d be delighted!”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just… paying you back for helping me out,” Blitzo said with a wave of his hand, but remained on the counter as Stolas finished the plate with that dopey grin never fading, occasionally offering him a bite of egg or toast.

(He always took it, since it would just be a dick move to turn it down, and if Stolas’s fingers lingered on his lips for half a moment too long and warmed his cheeks a little… it was just the food. When they shared a good-bye kiss, it tasted of egg and candy, and he could hear that Stolas’s heartbeat was nearly in time with his.)

#stolitz #helluva boss #shadow writes stuff #stolas #blitz #hb

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dakt37 · 4 years ago

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Avengers Assemble - Feral Outlaw Stony

So I've been expanding on this concept I doodled before Christmas, where Steve goes with Tony into the no-tech dimension at the end of season 3. Probably a lot of stuff isn't canon-compliant (beyond the obvious change that is), but "It's an AU so I do what I want" rules apply. Anyway.

The tl;dr is: The two of them spend a little time puttering around the weird no-tech dimension, and then get absorbed into Battleworld. They become explorers, helping people out and falling in love along the way.

(Once again, I feel like someone must have had this idea already, but I’ve never looked.)

Cut for excessive rambling.

~~~

Not all the areas we see in the show are present in Battleworld when Steve and Tony first arrive, so the boys spend most of their time traveling around, mapping the place out as it expands. A lot of my ideas rely on them still having little-to-no access to modern conveniences. Obviously someplace modern has to show up for them to get their hands on a pickup truck and a motorcycle, but I’m picturing a post-apocalyptic junkyard that’s been picked clean of anything obviously useful. They get the vehicles working by sheer force of “I’m Tony-fucking-Stark.” But like that fully functional NYC area is way too convenient, so it’s not around yet. (tbh I’m not even sure if it’s an alternate NYC or theirs, in which case it wouldn’t show up until the other Avengers do anyway)

They get the low-down on the "Battleworld" concept by eavesdropping on one of Beyonder's* welcome speeches. They realize that they are uniquely off the grid, because Beyonder didn't know they were in the no-tech dimension when he added it to Battleworld. They decide it's advantageous to maintain this secret status, but they're still Avengers™️ so they can't NOT help out wherever they can. But they don’t stick around any one place for long. Basically, they become vagrant vigilantes in addition to surveyors. They get a lot of their “stuff” (clothes, tools, toiletries, etc) as payment for odd jobs, or gifts from grateful locals they rescue. They get some food from populated areas as well, but also rely on foraging and hunting while on the lam. They have definitely eaten dinosaur at some point.

(*He doesn't get the nickname "Beyonder" until the other Avengers show up. In this AU Steve and Tony refer to him as "The Entity" or "Suspenders." You can probably guess who tends to use which.)

On top of the survival story, it's also a getting-together story. Steve and Tony flirt and pine and bicker and flirt some more, until a squabble turns into a confession and they finally start kissing. There’s plenty of time for “it’s cold in this wasteland and we only have one blanket, oh no,” but they’re firmly established as romantically involved by the time the other Avengers show up and they have the final showdown with Beyonder.

Anyway a lot of the AU notes I've been making are about the functional side of their Big Camping Adventure. So here's a bunch of lists about vehicles, gadgets, and navigation.

Vehicle stuff:

If Tony is riding passenger on the motorcycle, he can clip his repulsor boots into special footrests that reroute the energy and give the bike a speed boost.

The bike has a tow cable. Steve can harpoon things using a spring-action firing mechanism, including cliff faces to help him scale steep terrain. The cable can also be uncoiled manually, like when Tony takes flight while holding the end so he and Steve can clothesline hostiles.

Steve can stick his shield several places on the bike depending on what’s convenient. On the front as a windscreen/battering ram, on one side for easy grabbing, and even on Tony’s backpack so Tony can snuggle in properly while riding passenger and keep both their backs protected.

They probably don’t even need a ramp to get the bike into the bed of the pickup. Steve just picks it up and puts it there.

The evolution of Marsha (the truck) into a full Hulkbuster-style mech takes a long time. For the majority of their time in Battleworld, it’s just a truck with an ever-increasing number of weird add-ons.

Marsha can function as a tiny camper home. The cargo bed liner is a false bottom, which can be pulled up and rearranged to form a cover/roof. Underneath the liner, the actual truck bed is about a foot deeper, with most of that storage space taken up by a mattress and bedding.

Tony can pull a cable out of Marsha’s steering column and plug it directly into his arc reactor. This unlocks extra features and weapons. He generally has things balanced so that Marsha drawing power doesn't affect him any more than his armor drawing power would. But on rare and desperate occasions, he can overclock and hurt himself. Steve of course hates when he does this.

Turnabout is fair play though: at least once, something else damaged the arc reactor, so Tony plugged into Marsha to draw power from the battery for his electromagnet while he repaired the arc.

Gasoline can be difficult to procure, so both vehicles are hybrids. Tony just keeps adding new power conversion elements as they go along, based on what they can find.

F in chat for Tony’s armor:

Tony dismantles the armor he’d been wearing when they first went into the no-tech dimension.

Obviously he keeps skeletal versions of the repulsor boots and gloves in-tact enough to function.

He also keeps most of the helmet, for when he’s riding with Steve on the motorcycle. Mostly because Steve insisted. It's gutted of tech though, so if the faceplate stays as part of the design, the eyes are just holes (like in the classic comics).

The rest of the pieces are kept in a large packing trunk.

Tony repurposes some parts into useful gadgets for himself and Cap, plus the odd toy for other Avengers (like Widow’s new stinger gauntlets) because he’s optimistic like that.

Electronics use precious metals like gold and copper, so Tony scrapes some out to pay for things in certain areas of Battleworld, like the cowboy town or the pirate area. He might also barter with other general bits like wires and screws, but he avoids parting with any actual full tech.

Plug-n-play Gadgets

Since the power draw for Tony's electromagnet is actually fairly minimal, Tony makes use of the arc reactor as a charging station, mostly when he sleeps. It's not like there's a corner store they can drop by to get a pack of batteries. Things he charges include (but are not limited to):

Flashlight for Steve. The bulbs for it came from the eyes in the Iron Man helmet. Note: Tony doesn't need a flashlight himself because he can turn up his arc brightness apparently, lmao.

Camp stove. Steve questioned Tony building one for a hot second because hello we can build campfires to cook over? But then it’s raining and they're in a cave and Tony is like, "if you fill this space with smoke I will divorce you before we're even married." And Steve is like "camp stove wow yes okay." Also they had camp stoves in WW2 so honestly it was simply a Himbo Moment to disregard the virtues of one in the first place.

Walkie talkies. I know they had Avengers comms but I like the aesthetic of walkie talkies more. Maybe the comms relied on satellites that they obviously don't have anymore or something.

Navigation:

Speaking of a lack of satellites, the GPS in Tony’s armor is rendered useless. Steve is real smug about it and pulls out his old-fashioned compass. But Battleworld also doesn’t have proper poles, so it just spins wildly for a few seconds and then points at Tony’s electromagnet. Not to be deterred, Steve declares, “Well, you’re never lost if you can find Polaris.” They look up and realize that the night sky, despite having stars and a moon, is not at all arranged the way it is on Earth.

Tony takes this as a Challenge. He builds a sextant, then spends the next several nights in a row muttering math under his breath as he painstakingly creates a hand-drawn star chart. This, combined with landmarks, becomes the primary way they orient themselves as they roam around Battleworld.

Many nights, Steve and Tony lie in the bed of the pickup together and make up constellations named after other Avengers and friends. Steve makes a copy of Tony’s star chart and sketches artistic renditions of the constellations on top. To close this post with an interesting visual, here’s an example of what Tony’s star map might look like vs what Steve’s would more resemble:

#avengers assemble #avengers assemble AU #battleworld AU #Feral Outlaw Stony AU #stevetony #dakity yaks #Dakt rambles about Avengers stuff #long post

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