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werezmastarbucks · 1 year ago

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kevin khatchadourian x female reader timeline of relationship

(actually, a story I am too lazy to write, but which is just clear and palpable in my head)

• you meet him three times

warnings: violence, manipulation, underage relationships (no grooming), mentions of dissecting frogs, abuse (duh), toxic relationship, unpleasant and traumatic first sex, the OC is kinda very, very human and stupid, exactly as a fifteen year old girl should be. School shooting obv. Also, it's ve-e-ery long, but I'm really not in the mood of writing a book here, so, it's just bullet points. Sorry.

author's note: yes! I watched We need to talk about Kevin around 2014, actually. It seems, considering the nature of this whole blog, I've always had the hots for the worst kind of guys. Enjoy my sublimation!

it was so long I had to divide it into two parts. second part

• you're at the same school, and Kevin is closed, brooding and completely antisocial. You constantly see him smile when there's a fight. He never participates in scuffles but seems to observe people; the other half of the time, he just doesn't care about his surrounding at all. Seemingly

• you've been raised to sympathize with the outcasts, reading all the right books and youself, not being the most popular, the smartest or the most beautiful

• at the biology class, you flat out refuse to dissect a frog. You can't stand the sight of dead animals, to say nothing about cutting them with a freaking knife. You close your eyes and shake your head aggressively, while the teacher is getting angry with your childish stubborness

• until you feel that someone is standing next to you. Kevin says 'she doesn't want to cut the frog' assertively, and takes it to his desk. He doesn't look at you a second, but it feels like a momentary salvation

• you're thinking of thanking him; that seems like a nice thing considering he's never talking to people, and always having lunch alone. He has this loner allure, the misunderstood poet, the lone wolf, if you will. You're fifteen.

• your friends tell you 'are you nuts? he's the cat in the bag'

• there are all kinds of rumors about Kevin; about strangling someone as a joke, and swearing, and watching gore.

• "I didn't do it for you", he smiles, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and you misunderstood the incident so badly that it's funny and totally makes you look like an idiot. "I just like to dissect frogs". But he looks at you so intensely that it tells you something more.

• he never goes to PE

• Kevin is bullied from time to time; he doesn't really react to it, like the other children don't even exist. He never replies to nasty remarks, but just watches them, head tilted forward, like a dog ready to bite.

• you wonder why nobody else is worried about this gaze.

• sometimes you catch him watching you during classes as if he's contemplating something. You think yourself some kind of sacred redeemer, not less. You don't look away, you don't realize you're getting yourself into a swamp. You're fifteen

• at one occasion you tell Kevin he doesn't need to be alone all the time, and there are nice people at school who would accept him

• he just grins at everything you say

• the same guy who bullies Kevin the most acrtively, or is trying to, steals your folder containing some notes, your journal and you photo album. He doesn't admit it but laughs in a way that makes it clear

• you go to the teacher, to the principal, but the conversations do nothing to that guy. He's just a bully, just a dumb jock who has very little thought behind his forehead. You're worried; he might not know, but your personal diary is in that folder.

• you confront him with the fists swaying, to no avail

• the next morning, Kevin walks by your desk and throws the folder, complete with everything, in front of you. You watch his back, wondering when he had got it, and whether he had read your diary. One of the entires was about him, and it was embarrassing.

• "he's tall; taller than the other boys. His face is like milk, but he has this pitch-black hair and vampire stare thing going on. He is always quiet, just watches people. He's reeeeeally good-looking, but damn, Khatchadourian might just be nuts like people say"

• your friends wisely advise you not to get involved with him, but you feel so special all of a sudden

• you start fantasizing about being the only girl at school who managed to get through to him

• as you talk, he notices your desire to be special, and uses it. He observes you with your friends, focuses his laser attention on your grades, tries to get into what makes up your world.

• soon, he manages to make you feel like you really are the one person he reacts to. It is incredibly funny to him. He deems you fuckable.

• he's attacking someone in the yard. The guys from the parallel were getting the best out of Kevin, and rightfully so. This time he's had enough. When it's just talking, he didn't care, but physical assault, he couldn't tolerate, because that was crossing his personal borders. So, when one of the boys tried to steal his backpack, Kevin took out a razor he carried with him

• you try to stop the fight and get in between them just in time to shield the other boy, and Kevin slices your arm across

• the boys run away horrified, and Kevin just stands there, disappointed and dark.

• he evaluates the situation, sees that the cut is pretty deep, and watches the gushes of blood leaving your arm. The first seconds you're silent with shock; then it dies down, and you start feeling pain and yelp.

• he cuts off a piece of his shirt and bandages your arm tightly, saying nothing, just lasers you with his glance. The sight of this wound on you, not unlike his own scar, even in the same spot, accidentally. He finds it curious, invigorating. He watches the expression of physical pain on your face and brings you to the medic's office, saying "I sliced her". It feels good to say that.

• there's a conversation at the principal office. You're quiet, he's almost pleased with himself. His excuse is, I was going for another person ¯_(ツ)_/¯

• he gets away with it. You notice his dad dotes on him, and is absolutely blind to anything Kevin does. He buys the legend of 'I brought it for biology class, because I'm used to working with my own instruments' so easily it's astonishing.

• you don't speak for a while, and Kevin doesn't say sorry. He doesn't look guilty and is equally unimpressed that other students start to avoid him even more

• but his presence is like an oil stain, you can't avoid looking. You want to get to the bottom of him, you actively put yourself in this situation. You're fifteen, edgy, you have a crush on the sexy strange bad guy.

• you catch him after classes and tell him, whatever you're feeling, you don't have to. There are good people, that are worthy of your time. You don't mean yourself, but you're trying to make him defrost a little

• for some reason, the topic of feelings triggers him, and he does the thing he would repeat several times. He gets angry, standing right in your face, hovering over with his height. He puts his face as close as possible to yours and tries to make you pee yourself.

• "how the fuck would you know how I feel? What do you know about how I feel? Tell me, how can a person like you know anything about me?"

• he doesn't apologize for slicing you because he knows he didn't mean it, hense, there's no reason to say sorry. But he sees the prospect of playing with you, and he's so bored. So, he thinks about what a normal person would do in his place. ?

• once, you go to your locker and inside, find a little bunch of field flowers, neatly tied together with a yellow thread. No note, but somehow you have ideas what it means.

• you go on to a party in one of your classmates' house. You still rock a tight bandage on your arm. The party is good. You see Kevin and he looks at you like he wants to talk. You think, this is just like one of those vampire stories. You evade your watchful friends who think you dumb for playing a heroine from the Vampire Diaries. You need to grow up, they say

• you go outside in the terrace and sit down. You drink and ask why Kevin isn't drinking

• "I never drink. It dulls the concentration"

• you tell him that what he said sounds like 'I'm not like all of you idiots'. He confirms that's the gist of most of what he says. You ask if he considers you dumb, too. Biting his tongue, he avoids replying, saying that you're 'nice'

• you keep drinking, feeling the need to master up some bravery in his presence. For what, you don't know. Finally you ask him about how he feels, since he got so angry when you assumed

• surprisingly, Kevin says,

• "angry, bored most of the time. I guess it makes me angry how boring everything is. And dumb. Sitting there at school for six hours every day to do what exactly? It's like torture"

• it's a good thing he found a toy to play with.

• he tells you about his mother, and how she broke his arm when he was little, for shitting himself, on purpose. You talk about mums, and fathers, and how you don't have a very good relationship with your parents. Kevin finds it very interesting. You tell him how your mum mostly ignores your existence because she's more preoccupied with the shattering marriage with your dad, and your dad, finds you annoying and 'too girly'. He tells you about his little sister who is so annoying, and she constantly jumps around him and nags on him. You try to explain that a little girl sees that her brother is big, and strong, and pretty, and is forming a bond. He gives one of the worst performances, but it grills you

• "Pretty?" with a suggesting smile.

• you kiss, mostly because you're drunk, and you both think about each other's background.

• you think how tragic it is, that a boy like Kevin doesn't get the love from the person a child needs the most. Think about his mum, imagine her looking at baby Kevin with hatred and disgust. No wonder he is growing up to be this unapologetic, menacing, edgy guy who brings razor to school and takes it out on others.

• you're partially wrong

• Kevin thinks about how you have daddy issues and feel unloved, unneeded, mediocre

• although everybody at school knows that Kevin Khatchadourian had cut your arm in a violent fashion, the literature teacher pairs you for a half-year assignment. You're supposed to prepare a one-hundred pages analysis of the book of your choice, complete with the presentation.

• you're actually down to such tasks as you can ramble about your favorite books for ages, but you're not sure how it'll work out with Kevin. Casual friendship, if you can call it that, is strange and non-regular; sometimes he ignores you completely in the corridors, sometimes he starts talking about history, and awful things like Unit 731, out of nowhere.

• the first time you assembled to work on the paper was at the library, and it was pretty uneventuful; even boring a little. Kevin was not in the mood, and didn't talk much, and then, after an hour and a half said he was bored, and just left.

• you remembered the kiss from the party, but Kevin acted like nothing happened. Every time, though, when you almost decided he had played you, it was like he read your thoughts, and appeared to reinforce hope in you.

• he suggested you should go to his house at the weekend, and spend the day working on the paper. His family will be away as they usually do, so

• a gut feeling told you not to go, and you really listened to it, refusing the offer. Kevin smiled with his special smile that was like blood and honey, that was very difficult to resist

• "you think I'll do something awful to you?" "Will you?"

• he had a habit of speaking more with his eyes than with his mouth. One of the reasons you were so drawn to him was, he seemed adult, on the inside. Sometimes he said things you didn't expect to hear from a fifteen-year old.

• "Only if you ask".

• you skipped this weekend, and Kevin refused to go to the library, saying he had some things to do after school. But you were free to work on the project alone, of course.

• after a week more you caved in and agreed to go to his place. The whole week he was being uncharacteristically neat, friendly and pleasant. You saw him smile at teachers and even say hi to someone from class. You wondered if he had other friends you didn't know about.

• Kevin had a massive, cool home. Both his parents were rich, but you wouldn't tell it by looking at him act. You were amazed at the interior: artsy, light, with interesting living room and shapes on the walls. Kevin was bored, unimpressed by your interest. He was slacking, stretching time not to get to work that was clearly dull to him; he showed you the bathroom, and his parents bedroom (which made you uncomfortable). As he went downstairs to make tea that he almost forced you to have, you washed your hands in the bathroom on the second floor. Going down towards the stairs, you passed his room with the door open. A song you liked very much played on his computer. You wondered.

• on the wall, you saw the picture of the family. Kevin was smiling like the happiest boy ever, and it looked like a person from another world. His parents, blonde and dark-haired, were so different. The dad, whom Kevin described as 'the dumbest creature I've met', smiled carelessly, totally satisfied with the day. His mom, on the other hand, looked exhausted. The deep dark eyes, like Kevin's, didn't have half of demonic suggestion in them, but she looked weary. She smiled like a person who was wise, and had a death wish. His little sister 'that perfect little princess who never does anything wrong', whom Kevin clearly had very mixed feelings about, had only one eye.

• while having tea in the kitchen, you asked him about his sister.

• "Oh, yeah, it happened a while ago. She poured solvent into her own eye. Mum left the bottle on the table in the open". "Why would she do that?" you were horrified, painting a picture in your head. "Well, kids are dumb", he said so nonchalantly that it sent shivers down your spine. You could understand not liking a younger, more adored sibling, but talking about how they got a disability in such an unaffected way...

• Kevin added "I was there, with her. I called the ambulance. It was go-o-ory". And he smiled.

• you had the intention of working in the living room - light, spacious, with a broad sofa and a huge coffee table. Kevin insisted that he needed to work on his laptop and it was uncomfortable to bend over the little table. You needed to go to his bedroom. Eventually, you agreed, so now, you were sitting elbow to elbow at his desk, so close that you could feel the warmth of his body.

• the first thing you noticed about his room was how minimalistic and boring it was. Nothing on the walls, clean, tidy, impersonal. The only thing on display was a wooden bow, placed against the wall, and a stack of red-feathered arrows, beautiful, hanging above.

• "Wow, do you do archery?" He was unphased, like it was a totally usual hobby. "Yeah". Whatever tickles the rich people's bum, you thought.

• Fifteen minutes into project your phone lit up. Kevin asked who's messaging you and you said it was your common classmate, Paul, who is your good friend. Kevin knew your - your common - surrounding, so he knew that Paul was a good guy, and a good friend, and also had an innocent teenage crush on you.

• "Let me see", he grabbed the phone from your hand and stretched out his arm so that you wouldn't reach. It turned into a game. You both laughed, and giggled, as you tried to get to your phone. It was half-serious, playful 'hey, don't be a jerk!' and him, watching you reach for the phone helplessly. He then threw it on his bed and, as you raced after it, gave you a little push, and you fell.

• Kevin managed to create that feeling of comfort. As he landed next to you on his bed, he pretended not to see your unease. "Come on, let me see. You know I'm nosy". You sighed, deciding that there was nothing incriminating in messages between two friends. After all, there was nothing but memes and schedule discussion in your chat. Kevin scrolled it, giggling, discussing other classmates, and soon, you were snuggled against each other, talking about everything. You showed him your gallery on the phone and he grilled you for the insane amount of pictures of Damon Salvatore.

• "Come on. Come on now, you know they manufacture those dreamy characters specifically with the accordance to the desirable image for teenage girls. They cater specifically to you, and you buy it".

• "I know! But you haven't watched it".

• A long silence with growing smiles on both sides decided the destiny of that evening. You watched the show together, bonding, discussing, talking about how stupid everything is, and how the vampiric lore cannot possibly be depicted perfectly in any movie you've seen.

• he felt so normal, so human, so warm, that you were drunk on love. You felt safe, entertained, enfatuated. You thought to yourself that maybe, this whole thing about Kevin being different, and dangerous, was a front. After all, he had to protect himself, he hadn't gotten any love at home, and he didn't really know how to act around people. You felt appreciated, understood, wholesome.

• it was already dark when you've finished watching the sixth episode, and you were both a little sleepy. As the episode was over, the screen got darker, and you realized that there was barely any light. Kevin was silent beside you; you heard him breathe calmly, but you could tell he's looking at you. Like a snake aiming for your throat and waiting for the right moment.

• as you were about to say something to discharge the situation, your phone rang. It was your mum, checking on you, and you confessed you hadn't gone through with the paper at all. You explained how boring it was, and that the whole day, you drank tea, or talked, or watched the show. She laughed at it and told you not to stay the night. Maybe she did love you after all.

• "My mum", you explained, as the light from the phone died out, as well. "She's worried about you?" "Just checking". "Checking what?" You didn't find what to say here. "Doesn't your mum check on you when you're late and not home?" "No. Usually, I'm the threat".

• somehow, you were kissing. It felt exhilarating. Scary, amazing and fast. You didn't notice how twenty minutes have gone buy, completely taken by the intensity of it. I'm in his bed, you thought, and he's kissing me. The prettiest boy in school, and the most interesting. The rest were boring, you thought, and realized, this thing you had in common. You thought majority of people, even some of your friends, boring. Kevin was the only one who made you look.

• as he went for your thighs, you shivered. "I'm not ready". "Ready for what?" he asked, jokingly. Constantly dismissing your words, as if he always wanted you to speak clearly and not mumble behind the metaphors. "I'm scared, I'm a virgin". Kevin gave you a long look. "Who hurt you?" he immediately assumed there was some dark reason for your fright. Reality was, "Nobody. I'm fifteen, I'm afraid".

• you made him promise he won't force you to anything. Even the fact that you had to make him give you his word should've been a sign. Kissing him, and making out, was the best thing that happened to you the whole year though.

• Paul was strangely cold, even rude to you the last days. Every time you tried to bring up something funny to him, he dismissed you and made himself scarce almost instantly. You could feel, although Kevin didn't openly follow you, that he watched you, like before. Sometimes you had the urge to ask him the banal 'what are we?'

• you approached him in between classes to ask what he's done to Paul.

• he wouldn't tell you 'I confronted him in the bathroom and put my razor right to his throat, making him understand who you belong to; I pushed it so hard it actually left a mark on his Adam's apple. Must have hurt. He looked like a scared puppy. I told him not to text you anymore and not to look in your direction. He ran so fast you could tell he would be a great cast for the Flash'

• he said, "Oh, I spoke to him. You were clearly annoyed by his advances, or was I wrong?" You were annoyed when you talked about it at his place. You lamented your friendship and said you found it irritateing that every guy you were actively friends with, started to fall for you.

• you didn't believe he just 'spoke' to him. You tried to call for the good in him again, but when it didn't work, decided to threat.

• "Don't do the things you'll regret later, Kevin". You tried to walk away, but he put himself between you and the whole world, hovering again, his face as close as possible. His eyes, the eyes of a snake, cold, black, menacing, asked you.

• "What things?" "You know what I'm talking about". "No, I don't. Say it". He dared you. You wanted to say 'violent things'. You remembered his face, full of cold rage, as he swung the razor at that guy in the yard. You looked at his face now, changed from the peaceful everyday mask he always wore, and suddenly it hit you. He was psychopathic. There was no other way he would be so unaffected by things, then jumping into sudden fury, then pleasant and sociable the next moment. He could stand like this for hours, it seemed, burning you down with his trying stare as if he was forcing you to show what you're worth.

• your friend broke this intense exchange by exclaiming, "wow. Get a room?" her voice was casually laughing, like, ha-ha, I'm mocking a PDA. But when you looked at her, her face was expressing concern. Her eyes didn't laugh and were fixed on you. Kevin slowly focused on her with a slight smile and then walked away, saying nothing.

• he stalked you, although you didn't know about it. Listened to your conversations, hiding in the bathroom, and stole your phone for a lesson, and then returned it into your tote bag, making you think you're absent-minded. You were entertainment to him, a goal to reach, with no prizes. He was deciding what to do with you after, in spring.

• the other weekend that you spent working on paper, the Khatchadourian house was full. The previous one, his mum and his sister were away in the countryside, and his dad worked. Now the whole family was at home, and Kevin wasn't really happy.

• his mom was excessively happy to see you, shaking your hand, and giving you a motherly hug. You read in her face that she was glad that her son was socialising.

• his dad was a big booming guy with the lumberjack energy.

• his little sister was a little angel: silky pearl hair, nice little face, only one eye. She was airy, happy, unspoiled. She was everything Kevin wasn't. He stood at the top of the stairs as his stunningly normal family swarmed you. His sister was looking at you curiously, considering the new concept: his brother's friend. She has never encountered that before. You took her little hand and something horrible stung your temples, almost like a vision. Kevin smiling with his absent, self-pleasing smile as she was on the kitchen floor, her eye bubbling, sizzling, blood and goo coming out.

• Kevin lost his patience and ran downstairs, took your hand and led you away from them, giving his mum a certain look. He refused to be served lemonade, and snacks, he just wanted to be left alone with you.

• as you entered the room, he locked the door, and you started making out immediately. The thought of his parents at home made him almost blind with excitement.

• you collapsed on the bed, kissing, rubbing against each other, panting. You were very wet, for the first time in your life for a real person. It was exalting, to desire something so much and get it immediately, to be desired back.

• he caresses the scar on your arm and kisses it. You take it as his way to finally say sorry.

• you don't know that he's never felt sorry, for anything, in his life. That he's calculating, cold, that he is only happy when it's physical satisfaction because all other is imitation. He's like a robot and he feels like a robot. To try to feel something, he used to watch the hardest porn he could find, the trashiest, goriest movies, he watched the nsfw news where the pieces of humans, chunks of meat and bones, were shown; he went to the dark web and watched snuff, and it made him feel nothing. The closest to happiness he felt when he was mildly entertained or cumming; and you were entertaining, for all the possible things he could do to you; and you almost let him cum.

• but you weren't ready for sex yet and, remembering the word he had given to you, he backed up. Building the tension was good for the eventual climax, and he would break you, he knew that, by the way you whimpered when he rubbed against you and kissed your neck.

• you finally had sex at the party once. Closer to spring, when the spirits were lifted. You snuck away from your friends who have half-way accepted that you were spending time with Kevin. You went upstairs and locked yourselves in someone's bedroom; you had been drinking for bravery because you knew what was coming. You wanted it, but you didn't know what to expect; maybe Kevin had a dragon in his pants for all you knew.

• he wasn't soft, but he was cutting the pain short. He made you feel hurt and kissed you tenderly the next second not to let you retaliate. At first, you just had to whitstand the pain, thinking it was normal. That's how it happens for the first time: the feeling of something tearing, and blood, and razor sharp pain. You were very aroused and very drunk, so even the pain ceased soon, and it was actually almost good.

• you went to the bathroom to clean yourself and cried, you didn't know why. Not like you now were a different person. You emerged, talking about the sad state of your makeup, and the room was empty.

• Kevin was downstairs chatting with a girl you didn't know, and when you tugged on his sleeve, he gave you a blind look, like he was seeing you for the first time. He was done with you, the look said. He didn't even smile anymore; he just looked tired, like you intervened in a mildly entertaining experience.

• for the rest of the month you were crushed. You didn't talk about it with friends: in fact, you lied to them that you had an argument with Kevin and never had sex. You were so ashamed to be a victim of such a simple, banal, everyday scam. You were now seeing him for what he was. Just a guy with the looks who was bored.

• you completely forgot about the project, it just came to a halt by itself

• you started alienating yourself from your friends, which wasn't too hard

• you started having lunch alone, and going to classes alone, too.

• you spent a lot of time thinking about the damn dress you wore at a party, as if it was the root of all evil that happened

• you were wallowing in the feeling of betrayal, the impotent desire to crash his face with a hammer. You were brokenhearted, being dragged down from the heavens of being special right to the pits of being played.

• after weeks of mourning your naivity, and your pure feelings for him, your past wish to awaken something good in Kevin, you felt so idiotic, perhaps even more idiotic than the stupidest person in this school. You were a laughing stock for your own self. Your pride was crushed, and your heart was broken.

• eventually you thought, well, it's schooltime. A lot of girls experience this. Maybe in fifteen years' time it will all seem like a minor failure and a useful lesson.

• right? In fifteen years?

• in the beginning of May, Kevin suddenly sat at your table at the closing of lunch. After weeks of literally no communication, dismissive, slightly surprised glances when you happened to be in his eye sight spot, he suddenly reappeared.

• "You didn't tell your friends even? Will you let me get away with it after all?"

• you looked at his face drawn with curiosity and laughter. He was laughing at you. His boyish, demonic beauty was now poisoned with the ugliness of his insides. Earlier, he was like a rare animal from the northern mountains, that was so evasive it seemed like treasure. He was mysterious, impeccable. Too good for you. Now, it was the handsomness of a used mannequin, with the paint faded. Too much blood in the smile.

• "What do you want, Kevin?"

• it's been moments after a short exchange that you felt rage in you. The rage you've been fostering this whole month. You stood up from the table and swung your arm with enthusiasm, and then landed your closed fist on his cheekbone.

• Kevin's reaction was slow, horrifying. In his eyes, you saw the immediate danger to your whole life. He didn't say anything as he rose from the chair, and you noticed his eyes scanning the yard. What if someone witnessed the punch?

• you tried to hit him again, on the shoulder, but he caught your hand, and suddenly, crushing pain sliced through your wrist. He was much stronger than you.

• this time, he approached you so decisively that for a second your only instinct was to fly, but your hand was caught up in his fist. Really, you got scared of him.

• "Never do that again", he said, as his hand took you by the back of your neck. He tilted your head back to look straight into your face, and all the possible trauma made you see the allure again. Yes, he was still laughably attractive, without even trying. He was just a walking trap, and all of your good intentions for him had just been horny.

• "Or I will snap your neck and forget about you in a second".

• the punch was good; a scarlett spot was forming on the side of his face. You were afraid to move because you could feel your wrist on the point of breaking. Such sharp pain, the third time in nine months, and the source of it, again, was Kevin.

• "Say you're sorry"

• "I'm sorry", you whimpered, "that you're such a monster who's unable to love, Kevin".

• you got ready to deal with the broken wrist and closed your eyes, expecting anything. He let go of you. "Love is a big word for you".

• you didn't know how jealous he was of Damon Salvatore.

• as the school year was drawing to an end, the school team started rehearsing

• the rehearsals were always fun; although you never even thought of getting into the cheerleaders, and you had exactly the amount of interest in basketball to understand what's going on.

• it was fun because the team consisted of all the people you knew; there was a lot of students you had good relationship with; the cheerleaders were all very easy going girls, and beautiful, at that. It wasn't like in the Mean Girls.

• and the spectators always brought pizza, or some snacks, to entertain themselves during the long, repetitive rehearsals. You liked to visit them because it was better than hanging out at home with your dysfunctional family.

• the last rehearsals were held in the evening of the 8th of April.

• as you sat there, you vaguely remembered, randomly, that it was to be Kevin's birthday soon; maybe in a week, or less. You pretended not to care, pretended to yourself.

• closer to the end of rehearsal, as people started leaving, your best friend, the one who was concerned about Kevin and even put herself in the position between you, said that her boyfriend had messaged her. She had to leave. You said goodbye and decided to wait for the end. Looking at the girls was mesmerizing; the way they did the combinations and screamed the chants. You thought it was very cool to be a cheerleader; but you weren't tall, or nimble, or beautiful enough.

• the main door was locked from the outside; probably the strings have gone bad again, and the entrance has been deemed a no go. So, your friend circled around the hall a little, tugging the doors with surprise. Finally, she found one working exit and left. As she was leaving, Khatchadourian walked into her, or rather, they ran into each other.

• "Leaving already?" he asked, with a smile. She said nothing and walked away.

• Kevin locked the door behind her. She turned around, puzzled, because her brain hadn't registered at once that Kevin was carrying a stack of arrows with him.

• As he started shooting his classmates, the swarm of people was lifted up, like an avalanche, and started making it for the entrance. The doors were locked. He repositioned, climbing up the spectator's rows, and finally had the perfect spot. From above, in the bunch of people, he saw you.

• you wondered, as all the noise left your brain, and the pale circles started pulsating in your eyes, why you didn't know earlier.

• in the moments he was swinging for someone's throat, or when he was threatening you, or when his face dropped the smile by the snap of the fingers. How do you even foresee something like that?

• you watched his face, a grimace of hatred, not indifferent anymore. He was aiming with his bare teeth, wallowing in every cry of the people he shot; the sound of arrows was almost comforting, whistling around like a seagull that passes over you quietly. Among the roar of the hall, the sound of arrows was so calming and so loud.

• you tried to group yourself, to make yourself smaller, because there were actually very few people left; seven or nine, in fact. But there was nowhere to run. Macey Walken, who ran for the side entrance, got a scarlet arrow into her back, and fell suddenly as if something pulled her. You looked at the floor, into a pool of someone's blood. Kevin was walking down carefully, between the seats, sending the arrows with accurate aim. He didn't even look like a human anymore; it was hard to describe him.

• he neutralized the three teachers first, then went for the students. Paul died in the other side of the hall in his purple and gold uniform. The cheerleader girls were running in circles, in zigzags, clearly entertaining him, moving targets. Kevin now almost approached the last group of five people, where you sat on the floor, numb with scream that never left your mouth, your legs paralyzed completely. He was killing you all one by one, from left to right. Ben, Mary, Meredith. Finally, the bow and arrow were turned towards you, mechanically.

• Kevin pulled the string and then relaxed it, keeping the arrow to himself, and moved on.

• you did manage to become the special girl after all.

#ezra miller imagine #we need to talk about kevin #kevin khatchadourian #kevin khatchadourian imagine

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theresawritesstuff · 1 year ago

Note

Maisel Prompt: “Today I feel like running naked through your street To get your attention”

Dear Lenny,

I know I said calling wasn't something we do last time we ran into one another, but I've been thinking about you lately so I thought we could give letters a go. See how it feels. If I don't hear back from you then I'll have my answer…

So. Who's got gout?

All clear here on the eastern front in that respect.

But in all seriousness, I hope you're well. That all is really, truly well, and that California has been treating you kindly.

I imagine there's a certain lucky little girl who is very happy to have you there with her. Has your social calendar been completely booked with fancy tea parties and trips to the beach? Busy taking peanut butter and jelly picnics in the park? You're shaking your head at me I'm sure, but if you ever find yourself in need a proper hat for just such an occasion, I have more than any reasonable person should stashed away in my closet. I'm sure I could spare one for the cause.

Or perhaps I'm being presumptuous to assume there isn't someone on the west coast you could more easily borrow from. Someone else who's turned your head since you left?

I've been working again. Thought you might like to know. By day I'm the resident lady writer for the Gordon Ford Show. If one of my jokes ever actually makes it to air, maybe we can make an exception on the no calling thing just so we can marvel at the miracle.

I wish I could say it's a dream gig, but it's been an uphill battle in stilettos getting any of the other writers to take me seriously. The pay keeps the lights on, though, so I'll keep at it for now. On top of that, Susie has me working the club circuit around town almost every night. No need to worry about me hiding away at 30 Rock. I learned my lesson on that front. I'm taking every gig that comes my way. And a few of the ones that don't. It's been daunting getting back out there, but I made you a promise and I intend to keep it.

Can't have Lenny Bruce walking around brokenhearted.

I'm sorry for letting you down before. You've always been one of the few people who have believed in me through all this, who have gone the extra mile to give me a leg up, to help me over the roadblocks. Even the ones I put in front of myself.

You always saw me better than anyone else. Even me. I find myself wondering what it might take to turn your head my way again after such a royal fuckup.

Some days I think about packing a box full of every poster and billing with my name on it from the last few months and shipping it off to your house, just to show I listened and took your words to heart.

Others nights I look at the phone on my nightstand and contemplate the time difference until I fall asleep.

There's been a few times I have considered walking right over to Gordon's desk on air just to tell you hello into the camera or tell a joke you might actually laugh at, but that would lose me the nice paycheck I've come to like so much.

Today I feel like running naked through your street just to get your attention, but given there's a child also living at your place of residence perhaps that would be ill advised.

I'll refrain from purchasing any airfare for the purposes of streaking, if only to save you the hassle of having to explain to your daughter how you know the naked crazy lady.

New York has been awful lonely without you. I ran into Peluso at the diner the other night. He's absolutely beside himself with grief from missing you.

But we understand there's someone out there who needs you more. And that's a very brave thing to show up for her. Be there for her. I know I always felt better when you showed up for me.

Thank you, by the way for always showing up when I needed someone. When I needed you.

You have always been sensational in that regard, as you are in many, many others.

I'll never look at blue walls the same way ever again.

Try not to burn in the sun, oh creature of the night.

All the best,

Midge

#midge x lenny #Midgelenny #tmmm fanfic #Ficlet #Love letter

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saviorformikaelson · 1 year ago

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AI Chat created something and I just needed to show you: Loki writing to Y/N about "being" alone

Dear Y/N,

It's funny how life takes unexpected turns, isn't it? One moment, you think you have everything figured out, and the next, you find yourself alone, contemplating your existence. Being alone is a peculiar state of being, one that can evoke both fear and freedom.

When I say "alone," I don't necessarily mean being physically isolated from others. It goes deeper than that. It's about feeling disconnected, misunderstood, and ultimately, feeling as though you don't belong. You could be surrounded by people, yet still feel an overwhelming sense of loneliness within yourself.

I, too, have experienced this feeling on countless occasions. As the God of Mischief, I've always been the outcast, the one who stands apart from the rest. It has been both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it allows me to go wherever I please and live life on my own terms. But on the other hand, it leaves me yearning for genuine connection, someone who truly understands me.

But let me tell you something, Y/N. Being alone isn't always a bad thing. In fact, it can be an opportunity for personal growth and self-discovery. When you're alone, you have the chance to delve deep into your thoughts, uncover hidden desires, and understand yourself on a level that no one else can.

Use this time to embrace solitude, rather than fear it. Learn to enjoy your own company, indulge in activities that bring you joy and fulfillment. Discover new hobbies, read books, watch movies, and explore new avenues of creativity. Allow yourself the freedom to be completely yourself, without the expectations or judgments of others.

Remember, Y/N, you are never truly alone. It might seem that way at times, but the world is full of kindred spirits, waiting to meet you. Reach out, seek connections, and let your guard down. Vulnerability can be terrifying, but it's also the key to forging genuine relationships.

And if all else fails, know that I am here for you. We may exist in different realms, but our souls understand the ache of loneliness. Together, we can navigate the realms of solitude and find solace in our shared experiences.

Stay strong, my dear friend. Embrace the beauty of being alone, for it holds infinite possibilities.

Yours mysteriously,

Loki

#loki x y/n #loki #alone with my thoughts

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kaylawilliams-photography-631 · 8 months ago

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Week 5_ WIP > Self portraits

WIP Commentary:

What's working?

The closer-up shots - definitely - I have discovered that in most cases AF is better used that MF (with the exception of super close up shots) and I now also know how to meter properly so I can use AF correctly rather than just hoping it'll get the right spot.

The experimentation with different lighting set ups. All of these shots used natural, ambient or available light - I am yet to take any successful shots with created light which I would definitely like to do. However, I like the ambient light for how soft it is. Reflecting now on the indoor shots in the lot above - I think improvement could be achieved with using a reflector to get greater depth and contrast in the same lighting situations. As some of them are still quite flat, especially with highlights.

What did I want to portray?

To be honest I didn't necessarily contemplate this too much before taking the images but I think I want to portray myself in a more serious fashion than I think a lot of people see me in daily life. I come across very bubbly and joyful a lot of the time but as an introvert with very limited social energy this is my expression for the most part. People tend to comment when I'm not smiling as much or am not as chirpy that I look upset or angry or think something is wrong (I've been told this for years and years) so I have grown conscious of what my face looks like when its resting. So in a way this is my own - personal - reframing what I look like with a serious expression/expressionless.

Alongside this - just simplicity - I didn't want anything to grand or complex in these images as that doesn't match my personality. I think the use of the black and white represents a subtle boldness and simplicity that doesn't distract from the subject.

Personal experience / contemplation of self:

I don't have the fondest relationship with the camera - in terms of capturing myself. I'm not very confident capturing myself - I don't think I ever have been. This is one of the reasons why my selection here capture me without much expression. My key image at the moment (the first one) is probably the most vulnerable and intimate shot I've taken of myself.

Just like most I'm not super comfortable with my face - the placement of my hand in this image was for that very reason and kind of places that insecurity in the image as I'm hiding it . One of my biggest insecurities is my mouth/chin area. It stems from so many pictures that I've been in where someone captures me with a big gummy smile or from a really unflattering angle emphasising my chin/neck. There are very few occasions where I like how I'm portrayed in images other's take of me.

Also taking these pictures at home added an extra vulnerability. I became more and more comfortable taking photos but didn't feel like I could fully capture myself - maybe how I wanted - because I had/have other family members at home some days. I think to give myself the space to express myself more - using the photo studios as a self-portrait space and to have the security of no one else being around might help. Also taking any chances of having the house to myself and giving myself space to feel more comfortable infront of the camera would help.

The use of black and white in my edits was both an aesthetic choice as well as a personal one. Apart from the two images above where I quite liked the colouring of my skin and hair, the others (also the fact that they were framed tighter) were closer and I didn't feel comfortable with certain elements of my skin being in colour for example.

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diegowife · 2 years ago

Text

“Two Of Us”

A Mini Of Denji X Reader

Reader uses She/Her pronouns :)

Might be include manga spoilers, read at your own risk!

Makima revealed that Y/n possesses a unique gift since birth - the ability to manipulate Hell-Fire. She is capable of generating and controlling flames, despite not being a devil herself, which sets her apart with this incredible power.

Y/n, who is not only my close friend but also my first love, captured my heart from the moment Makima introduced us. She possesses an exquisite, refined, charming, and courteous demeanor that surpasses even Makima.

Her prowess in eliminating devils, coupled with her captivating actions, sends shivers down my spine. I find myself unable to divert my gaze from her. Unlike Power, Y/n does not possess a childish disposition nor is she easily frightened. In times of danger, I feel assured that Y/n would come to my aid, steadfastly standing by my side.

I often contemplate confessing my feelings to her, but the thought of doing so is daunting. The fear of potential rejection and ensuing embarrassment renders the endeavor an arduous one.

Nevertheless, today is the day I gather the courage to ask her out. I cannot continue to suppress these emotions indefinitely. Nervously, I knock on her apartment door, eagerly awaiting a response. As the door creaks open slowly, my heart skips a beat.

To my surprise, Y/n is already dressed impeccably. Why is she adorned as if attending a wedding? I stand poised like a gentleman and clear my throat,

“Ahem, Y/n, will you go out with me today? You know, just in case the two of us want to spend time together? Since there are not so many devils and Makima hasn't informed us of any mission yet...”, It can prove quite a challenge to convey my thoughts to her on occasion. Undoubtedly, I can be quite bothersome.

“Oh? I was planning to go out to buy something. I guess going out with you is fine too..” In a manner that exuded shyness, she gently rubbed her neck as she spoke.

While holding my hand, she stepped out of the door, “Well, where should we go?”. The suddenness of her actions caused my face to blush as red as Makima's hair. Why would she hold my hand? Is this all just a dream? Or could it be that my dream has finally come true? If this is indeed a dream, I wish to share it with Pochita. He expressed his desire to know and understand the contents of my dreams. Hang on a little longer, Pochita; we are almost there.

Walking hand in hand with Y/n now felt like a taste of heavenly bliss. Although I've never experienced heaven firsthand, I assume this is what it must feel like. Earlier, I had to lock Power in the apartment to ensure she wouldn't disrupt our date. That girl truly knows how to cause trouble.

~TIMESKIP~

Presently, we find ourselves in Y/n's apartment once again. The burden of carrying her shopping bag is quite noticeable, indicating her fondness for shopping. Assisting her, I collect her belongings and arrange them within her humble abode. After completing the task, "Denji..." She appears discontented. Did I do something wrong?

“Denji, I extend my gratitude to you for everything that you have done. The time we spent together was truly delightful and it brought a smile to my face”, This made me chuckle. Oh yes, the plan that we executed has been successfully achieved. “No worries, I had intended for this to happen all along.”

It pleases me to see that she appreciates it. Our moments spent together were enjoyable, but the highlight for me was the opportunity to hold her hand..

Despite all that we did, it still doesn't feel satisfactory to me. We engaged in various activities together, such as going to the shopping mall, purchasing ice cream, having dinner, and strolling around the park. However, even with all of these things, it still doesn't meet my expectations. I can't help but wonder what else is lacking. Ugh, what is it that you desire, Denji? Come on, tell me.

As she prepared to close the door, I intervened, realizing that I needed to speak up once again. “Um, excuse me, but I have something else to say,” I blurted out. In that moment, I questioned my actions, thinking to myself, 'Oh no, what am I doing?' It felt as if my hand had a mind of its own. She furrowed her brow and asked, “Yes? What is it that you want, Denji?” Contemplating whether or not to reveal my thoughts, I considered that perhaps she wouldn't welcome them. Today was an exhausting day, after all.

“If you would be interested, I could propose the idea of accompanying me to the beach tonight, around the hour of 2 am. However, if this time is not suitable, I am willing to change the tim-”, before I could finish my sentence, she ecstatically grasped both of my wrists.

Without hesitation, she replied, “Absolutely, Denji, I would be delighted to join you!” Her laughter filled the air, causing my eyes to widen with admiration. She truly is a treasure. Alas, if only my wealth allowed me the privilege of showering her with delightful gifts. We solidified our plans and rendezvoused at the beach later on.

~TIMESKIP~

At the seaside, I found myself by 2 am. It has been a while, yet she has not shown up. What could be causing her delay in arriving here? Perhaps she is still asleep? No, that cannot be, as she never fails to keep our promises.

Not too distant from this location lies her apartment. Engaged in playing with the sand, I suddenly felt the touch of someone closing my eyes. I couldn't help but smile, playfully remarking, “You won't fool me, Y/n.”

In a state of amazement, she burst into laughter and released her grip, “Impressive how quickly you can guess!” Her face radiated joy as she flung sand towards me, yet I managed to evade it. “To me, it seems evident that we are the only one here,” I commented. Indeed, there is no chance that anyone else is present at this hour, considering it is late morning. Nevertheless, there was a peculiar sensation, as if someone was observing our every move, perhaps a homeless individual seeking solace by the ocean's embrace. I could simply overlook it all and fully embrace this moment.

In addition to that, a solid button-front blouse and trousers were worn by her; in contrast, I am only donning shorts and find myself half-naked. As she took a seat beside me, I crouched down. “I apologize for my tardiness, as I had to carefully select a suitable outfit, and may I mention, I also prepared a bento for the both of us!” she exclaimed, proudly displaying her portion of appetizing food.

Without warning, she forcefully pulled me into the ocean. I have never been a proficient swimmer, especially after the incident involving Reze. Although the trauma continues to linger in my thoughts, I must brush it aside. Y/n is all that matters to me now. “Can't swim, huh?” she scoffed, taunting me. Irritated, I retaliated by splashing water in her direction, provoking her laughter as she reciprocated the action.

Observing her silhouette, her laughter, and her facial expressions brings me great pleasure. Following a blissful period relishing in our youthful moments, we situated ourselves upon the sandy terrain and savored the bento she had prepared.

“Denji, why did you choose this particular location out of all the options available?” she inquired quizzically. Pausing to meet her gaze directly, I responded, “Well, it's quite challenging to put into words, but what I desire above all else is merely the presence of the two of us, without any disturbances or interruptions.”

Momentarily pausing to collect my thoughts, I continued, “All I yearn for is to sit in tranquil silence by the shore, admiring the rhythmic waves, listening to the harmonious melody of the surf, and experiencing the soothing pulse of the earth.” Yes, I suppose that phrase will suffice. While I cannot offer a concrete explanation, I did my best. At that moment, I felt her hugging me. Indeed, she enveloped me with her affection. Well done, Denji.

A rush of warmth envelops me as I sense her skin, the pulsating rhythm of her heart, and her embrace encircling my neck. Regrettably, the embrace is destined to be short-lived. She disengages from the hug and gently places her palm on each of my cheeks, hesitantly questioning, “Denji, do you believe this to be a date?”. Mirroring her actions, I also rest my palm on her cheeks and confirm, “Yes, Y/n, all along, this has been a date.”

A mixture of nervousness and anticipation tinges my smile as I gradually close the distance between our faces, and she reciprocates with equal measure. My throat tightens with anxiety. Despite not being my first kiss, I hope that I am deemed a proficient kisser. Our lips finally unite, and I relish the sensation of her soft lips pressed against mine. It is comforting warmth, and I find myself enjoying it immensely. In that fleeting moment, just as I am beginning to savor the experience, that moment until I hear...

“ BANG !”

Rather than realizing the events that had unfolded, I continued to relish in the sensation of our genuine kisses. My gaze shifted towards her, and the sight before me was utterly unforeseen. The tender caress of her cheeks and the touch of her hand upon mine were no more. Her body lay before me, disintegrated into countless fragments, not a single bone remaining intact. The crimson blood splattered across my visage and drenched my entire being. The chilling tableau left me breathless and shaken.

As I stared at the bloodstained hands, my eyes widened in disbelief. I cast a glance over my shoulder, and to my astonishment, it was Makima. I attempted to utter a response, yet my voice failed to escape my lips. “Denji, creatures like you, devils, should devote their attention to destruction rather than surrendering to love,” she proclaimed.

“Denji, it is obvious that you have developed a sentiment for her from the very beginning. Why did you decide to switch your affections towards her? You have kissed both Himeno and Reze, and now you attempted to kiss her?” She approached me and lifted my chin, saying, “Denji...from this point forward, you are under my complete control.” With a smug expression, she departed, completely disappeared in the shadow.

I find myself completely immobilized. Has the circulation of blood in my body ceased, or am I simply paralyzed with fear? I have lost Y/n. Why am I unable to experience any emotions? Why can't I shed any tears? I had just experienced my first genuine kiss, only to witness her obliteration right before my eyes. It is at this moment that I comprehend the following truth:

“In a world consumed by devils and misery, no feelings of love can endure.”.

I'm sorry if there are any grammar problems. English is not my first language :)

Thank you so much for reading <3 I hope the ending satisfies you. If you have A03, please look up my account PortgasDqish. I usually post my fanfic there ♡

#denji x reader #denji chainsaw man #chainsaw man denji #POV male character #romantic friendship #friends to lovers #fluff and angst #falling in love #love confessions #idiots in love #surprise kiss #reader insert #denji is a simp #makima #chainsaw man #anime #manga #chainsawman anime #chainsawman manga

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deathtodickens · 3 years ago

Text

Date Night Bingo. Dialogue.

Helena: What, in this intolerable world, is Date Night Bingo?

Myka: It's some ridiculous game they play, and think I don't know about, whenever we go on a date. They mark off all of the things that happen during that date and whoever gets a whole row wins.

Myka reaches out to Pete.

Myka: Hand it over.

Pete gives his BINGO card to Myka.

Myka taps a finger to her temple.

Helena: She thrives on situational awareness.

Pete: She thrives on taking the fun out of everything.

Myka: Let us review, shall we?

Myka looks up at Pete, already annoyed.

Pete: Hey, this wasn’t a solo effort.

Pete gestures with a nod to Claudia.

Claudia: I threw my hand in, here and there. Someone had to stop Pete from filling half the board with random acts of—

Pete: They don’t need to know about that.

Helena: And so the not-rare-enough occasion of me being in agreement with Peter rears its ugly head, once again.

Pete looks to Myka, confused.

Myka: She means “ditto”.

Pete: Ooh! You could just say “ditto”, H.G.

Helena: I will never say this “ditto”.

Myka and Pete, at once: You just said it.

Helena sighs and walks away.

Myka examines the BINGO card and starts from the top.

Myka: "Myka Trips"?

Pete: Inevitable.

Myka: "On Absolutely Nothing"?

Claudia: It's practically your trademark.

Myka: "Ping". That’s definitely happened too many times before.

Pete and Claudia nod proudly.

Myka: "H.G. Chooses Tacos Again".

Helena walks back to the group, annoyed.

Helena: I lived over one hundred years before I knew of the joy that is a taco. I am allowed to enjoy a taco.

Pete stifles his laughter.

Claudia: (elbows Pete) See, this is what I’m talking about dude. You gotta chill with the dirty jokes.

Myka: "H.G. Cooks". And it's accompanied by an illustration of fire and smoke. Lovely.

Helena takes the BINGO card.

Helena: Let me see that.

Claudia: That’s all Pete.

Pete: You literally drew that.

Claudia: He asked for flames. I didn’t ask questions.

Helena hands the card back to Myka.

Helena: Once again, I lived one hundred years without. Excuse me for not having access to a stove while in bronze.

Pete: Again, H.G., you could have just said “ditto”. Instead of all of that.

Myka: "Myka Twirls A Finger In Her Hair". Okay, I’ll give you that one, too. I've been doing that since I was a kid. But "Myka Twirls A Finger In H.G.’s Hair"… oh.

Myka smiles and blushes.

Helena: Okay. Ditto.

Pete: See, that wasn’t so hard.

Helena: It was, actually.

Claudia: I used to feel really bad for you H.G. but I’m starting to realize you make a lot of trivial things look extremely painful.

Helena glares at Claudia.

Claudia: See, like that.

Myka: Why are the wigged, sentient plastic bones that we do not speak of on the BINGO card?

Pete: Uh, we made the card template before she became sentient.

Claudia: As far as we know.

Pete: As far as we know.

Helena: You could have just said “ditto”.

Myka: Now she’s an expert.

Helena: My darling Myka, exactly whose side are you on?

Myka reaches for Pete’s dauber and presses a dot to the BINGO card square that reads “H.G. says darling”.

Helena: (to Pete and Claudia) You don’t know me.

Myka presses an attentive kiss into Helena’s hair.

Pete: That’s a kiss!

Claudia: They already kissed.

Pete: What? No.

Myka: You already have "Kiss or Cry" marked. Also, rude.

Pete: When?

Claudia: That’s like the first thing they did.

Pete: You already kissed! Do something else.

Myka: You’re not playing the game, Pete! And why does the square that reads "Food Spill" have a subscript of "Probably Myka"?

Pete points to a stain at the bottom of Myka’s dress.

Claudia: Practically a free square.

Helena: My love, when did you even have ketchup to spill on yourself?

Myka: WHY IS "TENTACLE-INDUCED GAGGING" ON HERE?

Myka gags.

Claudia: That's why.

Pete: You did pick a seafood place.

Claudia: H.G. sat you two right by the squid tank.

Myka: How could you possibly know that?

Helena: I did, and you did gag. I’m sorry, love. I noticed far too late.

Myka: I'd contemplate revenge-eating shrimp so that you can't kiss me for the rest of the night but I’d only be punishing myself.

Helena: I think we’ve suffered enough time apart in this lifetime.

Pete: Why can’t you kiss H.G. if you eat shrimp?

Claudia: H.G. has a shellfish allergy.

Pete: Why would you choose to eat at a seafood place if you—

Helena: Myka does love her fish and chips.

Pete turns to Claudia and holds his arms out in display of this perfect setup for a perfectly not great joke.

Claudia: You don’t even care that you’re traumatizing me, do you?

Pete: Ugh. Fine. But why didn’t we add "Myka-Induced Allergic Reaction to Shrimp Kisses" to the board?

Myka: Because she could die. And you would soon follow.

Helena: Is "Interrupted By Two People Who Will Soon Find Themselves Deceased And Certainly Not By Shrimp Kisses" on there?

Pete: No?

Claudia: I told you we should have added "H.G. Threatens Someone’s Life" to the card.

Pete: Too easy. Besides, we have "H.G. Uses The Tesla", which is almost the same thing.

Claudia: We need easy ones to replace things like—

Myka: "Myka Mentions Pre-Law, Pre-Med, or Fencing"? What’s wrong with me talking about my past?

Pete yawns.

Claudia: Sorry, Myka, but twelve years in, there’s just no defense for rehashing that.

Myka turns to Helena expectantly.

Helena: I love hearing your pre-law before you were pre-med stories.

Myka: I was pre-med before I was pre-law—

Helena: Right, yes. Pre-fencing, pre-med, pre-law. Secret service turned warehouse agent turned bookshop keeper returned warehouse agent, and now, soon-to-be retired. We can hope.

Myka: Helena.

Helena: Should consider retirement. Soon.

Myka sighs.

Helena: So we can move away, far far away from this place and these all too regular, and growing in regularity, interruptions.

Myka: Here’s a “Mrs. F Magically Appears” square. Speaking of interruptions.

Everyone pauses for a moment to check their surroundings.

Helena whispers to Myka: Situational awareness.

Myka: More like a trauma response.

Helena: Potato, tomato.

Pete: It’s potayto, potawto.

Helena looks at Pete as though he's grown a second head.

Pete reaches his hands to his shoulders, just to be sure he hasn't.

Pete: You said tomato but it’s—

Claudia: She’s barely keeping her head above water with ditto, dude. Let it go.

Helena flips her hair condescendingly. Pete just knows it.

Myka: There's the "H.G. Hair Flip".

Helena: That is not on there.

Myka points to the box on the card for Helena to see.

Helena is annoyed. Again. Or still.

Helena: We could move to Florida. It’s so very very far away from here.

Myka: I’m not living in Florida, Helena.

Claudia points to “Myka Cooks” on the card, which is accompanied by an illustration of a smoking pan.

Claudia: You’ll need to hire a cook.

Myka and Helena glare at Claudia in unison. But it’s Claudia. And she’s not exactly wrong.

They let it go.

Helena: “Ex Encounter - Again” could be filed under “H.G. Uses The Tesla” or even “Someone Holds Someone At Gunpoint.”

Claudia: That would be historically accurate.

Pete: Historically? I think you mean predictably accurate. Presently accurate. Painfully so.

Myka: They weren't my exes. They were just... there.

Helena mumbles something inaudible.

Pete: I don't think what you're saying can be translated into Victorian times, Mykes.

Claudia: Oh, it absolutely can be translated into Victorian times. Dare I say it was first translated from Victorian times.

Myka: The Victorian had plenty of her own times.

Helena: Every time you refer to me as The Victorian, I hear only one thing.

Everyone looks at Helena.

Helena: Ancient hag.

Pete: H.G.

Claudia: C'mon H, that's not what we're saying--

Myka: "Not-So-Secret Marriage"? Pete, we’re already married.

Pete: Again, old template.

Claudia: Yeah, 2016 was a wild year in the Date Night BINGOlympics.

Helena: I’m sorry, what has she just said?

Myka: Ditto to Helena’s question because I have no idea.

Claudia: The Date Night BINGOlympics.

Pete: Oh, yeah, 2016. Wildest Date Night BINGO year on record. You guys went from barely talking to not talking to secretly talking to secretly meeting up to—

Claudia: Not-so-secretly meeting up and not-so-secretly “meeting up”.

Pete: That’s when we added “H.G. Gathers Myka’s Apples”.

Helena looks to Myka, bewildered.

Myka: (mouthing to Helena) I am so sorry.

Pete: We took a big risk adding Not So Secret Marriage to the card that year.

Claudia: It wasn’t that big of a risk. We saw the Not So Secret Engagement Ring that Myka only ever wore on a necklace.

Pete: And the Not So Secret plane tickets that Myka tried to hide in her Not So Secret Drawer of Not So Secret Helena Clothes that starting piling up after all of your Not So Secret “Artifact Consulting” visits.

Myka and Helena stare in appalled silence.

Claudia: Their faces are screaming "Oh Look, They’re flying!"

Pete: That counts. Daub it!

Pete reaches for his dauber.

Myka: Don’t even think about it. This game is over.

Helena: Ditto.

Claudia: But you haven’t even gotten to the best ones!

Myka: "Someone Uses The Grappler"? Neither of us has the knees for that anymore.

Pete: (to Claudia) Do you really expect me to survive this humorless world of no innuendo jokes? She's walking right into them!

Claudia: I'm just a baby, Pete. Think of my innocence.

Pete groans.

Myka: "H.G. Mentions The 1800s"? "Date-Busting Artifact", ugh, don’t remind me.

Helena: Date-Busting Soon-To-Be-Deceased Ex Stalker-Coworkers.

Myka: "Old Book References". "Date Night At the BnB". "Break… Up?"

Pete: (snatching the BINGO card from Myka) Yeah, that’s nothing. But hey, look, "FUDGE"! That’s happened before, right? Remember that time in Colorado, when you bought “fudge” at the “natural health store” that H.G. didn’t know was actually a weed shop? And then you both kept smelling fudge, thought there was an artifact nearby, and tried neutralizing your nephew with a static bag hat?

Myka snatches the BINGO card back.

Myka: Why would you put BREAK UP on here?

Helena takes BINGO card and gasps.

Helena: I ditto that question!

Pete: All right all right, relax with the ditto.

Claudia: Look, we have to have some improbabilities on there, otherwise it’s no fun.

Myka: Florida is starting to sound really really nice, actually.

Pete: No, Mykes, Florida is not starting to sound really really nice right now.

Claudia: Ditto to that.

Helena: Let me see that dot-making thing.

Myka hands Helena the purple dauber.

Helena daubs a square that says “We Got Caught” with a doodle of Claudia and Pete then reaches to Claudia.

Helena: And yours?

Claudia hands Helena the teal dauber.

Helena daubs another dot over that very same square. She hands Pete and Claudia their daubers back, gives the BINGO card back to Myka.

Helena: Now, if you three are done here, we’ve a movie to catch.

Myka: And maybe some fudge to buy.

Before anyone can say anything about that, the metallic ring of Pete’s Farnsworth starts sounding in his pocket. As he answers the call, he holds the contraption out at an arm’s length so that everyone present can see. So that nobody present can go unseen.

There, on the black and white screen, is Artie’s face, barely visible through the distortion of a weak analog signal.

Artie: Date night’s over. We have a ping. And lucky for our budget, the artifact just happens to be at the movie theater, mere steps from where you four currently stand.

Everyone begins protesting all at once.

Artie: Oh. I see. You all seem to be very deeply confused about what is happening here. This isn’t an offer, I am not taking volunteers. It is an assignment.

Everyone groans.

Artie: I’m emailing the details this very moment. The faster you get to work, the sooner you’ll be able to enjoy the rest of your evening.

Myka: Artie, Helena and I are still in the middle of our—

Artie: And oh look, “Ping” and “Artie Cancels Date Night” makes BINGO for me.

More protests.

Artie: GET TO WORK!

The Farnsworth screen goes dark.

Pete: Did he just—

Claudia: Holy shit, we just got double crossed by a crook boss.

Pete: But how did he get—

Helena: I am begging you to add “H.G. Murders Artie" to the BINGO card. I can guarantee that square will win at least once.

Pete: And how would he even know…?

Myka: Hurricane season, here we come.

The End.

#bering and wells #warehouse 13 #dickens draws #endless wonder wives #myka bering #helena wells #ficlet #i love dialoguing these fools

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captaincryolicious · 3 years ago

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Shall we dance?

➳ Childe x gn!reader

➳ Oneshot ; 2,1k

➳ Pining, lots of pining ; No warnings

What begins as a boring yet mandatory Fatui party spent in solitude ends on the dancefloor awfully close to a very admirable harbinger. [16.O1.2O22]

Zep's Note ; Missed me? It's been literally 3 months since I've posted help? Also this is kind of a mess since this is a result of writing small parts over a span of months lol.

content under the cut | masterlist

What even was the point of calling it a masked ball?

The Fatui were notorious for always donning a mask, so this occasion wasn't all that special; the attendants would have worn their mask regardless. An unmasked ball would have been more of a special event, though you highly doubted any of the Fatui could have been convinced to follow that particular part of the dress code.

Was there even a dress code? No one seemed particularly dressed up, you were surrounded by Fatui Elite wearing their every-day Fatui uniforms and that was basically it. You too were wearing your usual get-up, with your usual mask hiding half of your face and a hood pulled over your head. Somehow it worked, seeing how the standard uniforms for the Elite Soldiers and the outfits donned by the Harbingers were suitable enough for fancier occasions such as these.

Maybe the idea of calling it a masked ball had been a way of outing irony in a humorous way for whoever organized this party. Aside from that, it wasn't a very memorable event.

They had arranged a group of musicians to provide live music from a small stage in the corner of the venue, though, and the food they served on long tables lined up against the walls tasted absolutely divine. It was probably an attempt to fancy up the evening a little.

Sadly, the mentioned food was all you had been interested in ever since you arrived. As they hail from the cold land of Snezhnaya, the Fatui weren't the most outgoing types. The evening carried on blandly, the so-called party wasn't much of a party at all, and you relied on the bowl of strawberry punch and plates filled with pastries for your entertainment.

There were people dancing, the venue was filled with the sound of people chatting and laughing, the music was okay. You even had been asked to accompany someone in a dance multiple times by multiple Fatui, but you declined all the offers politely and didn't feel the need to mingle with your co-workers at all. Seeing everyone else enjoying themselves made you wonder, though. Maybe the party wasn't the problem, but your attitude towards the party was what prevented you from having an enjoyable night. Oh well, be as it may, you just had to sit out a little longer before you could leave without it being too early. As much as you felt like going home to do something you actually deemed fun, you didn't want to come off rude and respectless in front of the entire Fatui Elite.

With a small sigh, you readjusted your mask, contemplating whether or not you were going for another glass of punch. Maybe opting for something you haven't had yet wasn't a bad idea either? After all, it wasn't often that you had food of this class of luxury for the taking, and all those unfamiliar dishes looked quite interesting.

"You don't seem too entertained," the voice of a male came from behind you, and you halted your inner debate about punch and jade parcels as you turned around.

You expected to find another Fatui Agent, asking you for the honor of a dance surprisingly politely, considering they were quite lethal on the battlefield. What you didn't expect was a Harbinger standing behind you, donning a familiar mask that did little to nothing to hide his identity.

"Tartaglia?" you uttered out, eyeing the man in front of you warily.

It was safe to say that you were beyond surprised to have this Harbinger grace you with his presence, since you weren't necessarily acquainted; you had been assigned on a few missions with him but he preferred to follow his own plan so your interactions had been limited. Why was he suddenly talking to you?

Not that you really minded, though. The eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers had always intrigued you, the stories and rumors about him that went around stirring your interest. But you had always admired from afar. You weren't used to being this close to him, his attention solely on you while he blocked the way to your beloved punch, and it made you nervous.

"The one and only," the ginger-haired male replied, showing you a small grin. "Do you think I can help you cure your boredom?"

You blinked, once again quite taken aback by the words he spoke – scratch that, the fact that he deliberately came to you to offer you his company put you at a loss for words. Tartaglia was looking as fine as always, his grey uniform carrying details in shades of deep red and embellished with iron studs and buckles that shone faintly as they caught and reflected the light of the majestic chandeliers that hung from the high ceiling. The red mask that was usually slipped to the side of his head lazily now covered the top part of his face, and you found it hard to read his expression. Yet, you were grateful for that, since you didn't have to look into his mesmerizing ocean eyes with the risk of drowning.

"Depends," you mused, looking at the male with a hint of caution still lingering. "What do you have in mind in order to do so?"

"Well, Y/N, I was hoping that I could invite you to the dancefloor," Tartaglia replied, his tone playful. "Though I must say I'm a bit nervous to ask you after witnessing how you turned down many offers from my subordinates."

He wasn't nervous at all, you could tell that much. His tone was too casual, his posture too relaxed and nonchalant, the small upward curl in the corners of his mouth a little too much to go unnoticed by you. Contrary to his words, he seemed quite confident asking you for a dance, even going as far as offering his gloved hand to you without awaiting your answer.

You were about to reply with I don't dance, but the words got caught in your throat, as if to give you some time to think whether or not you were really going to turn down the offer of this handsome and intriguing Harbinger.

This was an opportunity you shouldn't miss out on, right?

How often was it that you found Tartaglia outside of missions and battlefields? How often was it that you met under circumstances as free and harmless as these? Morax knew how long it would be until another chance like this would arise – if it ever were to happen again.

You made up your mind.

Tentatively, you placed your hand in his, the fabric of his gloves feeling alien against your skin. The laid-back grin that graced the tall male's lips merged into a broader smile as he led you towards the center of the venue, further and further away from the bowl of delicious punch.

It was pointless to deny that you were nervous. You barely got over the fact that the eleventh Harbinger approached you and spoke to you, and suddenly you were awfully close to him as he brought you to the dancefloor, about to engage in a dance with the one and only Tartaglia, whose name was widely feared and admired – for you, it was the latter, and it only made you realize more that the man who made your heart beat faster decided to accompany you on a masked ball.

Oh, Archons.

Your entire body momentarily froze over with tension when his hand landed on the small of your back and the male brought you closer with a gentle tug. You let out a gasp, pursing your lips in a thin line when the corners of Tartaglia's mouth curled up into an amused grin.

Oh no, you weren't going to let this get to you that much. Maybe you had secretly been a fool for the eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers for a long time, but you weren't going to let him notice. Pushing the severe feeling of awkwardness aside, you placed your free hand over his shoulder and finally responded to his invitation to move along with the music.

"Loosen up, Y/N," the ginger-haired male told you in a hushed voice, even going as far as leaning closer to you so his words nearly became a whisper in your ear.

"I'm not used to dancing," you quietly admitted, which was only a part of the truth. You were vaguely familiar with fancy dancing, but sharing a dance with a male you had admired for quite a while was definitely something else.

"Adorable," came the reply, paired with a chuckle and a gentle squeeze of your hand. "Just follow my lead, okay?"

So you did.

Your surroundings slowly blurred until they simply vanished from your consciousness, and it was nothing but you and Tartaglia and the melody wrapping around you. His touch was warm, his smile so mesmerizing, his movements dreamlike as he guided you along the music. You could get lost in the moment if you wanted to, but you fought against the fuzzy feeling. So often had your encounters with the harbinger been distant and hasty, nothing more but some stolen glances that went unanswered most of the time. Now that he held you so close to him, moving around the dancefloor in a graceful yet playful manner, you wanted to experience it in its entirety, down to every last detail.

Okay, and maybe there was still a slight pinch of nervousness that kept you from losing yourself in dreamland completely.

"You are quite the capable dancer," Tartaglia commented, stepping away from you and gently urging you to twirl around. "I thought you weren't used to it?"

"Maybe because you are a capable leader," you replied, finding more and more ease as you moved along. You even dared to offer the tall male a smile, one that he gladly reciprocated.

The song was slowly coming to an end, you could tell because you grew up with this Snezhnayan symphony. Your last steps were filled with more confidence, and it didn't falter when the Fatui Elite pulled you flush against his chest when the final note dragged out over the dancefloor.

One hand remained on the small of your back, and the other reached up to remove his mask. The shadow that had overcast his face the entire time vanished, and his ocean blue irises gazed into your eyes a few seconds too long for it to be natural. Your breaths were close to mingling, your heartbeat accelerated, a shiver ran down your spine when Tartaglia's thumb found your chin and gently made you look at him.

"I hate to disappoint you, but I have to take my leave now," he told you, once again speaking in that hushed tone. You could tell he was doing it on purpose.

You merely nodded, too spellbound by the widely feared but oh-so attractive harbinger that was so close to you.

Tartaglia let out a small sigh upon your silence, his gentle grip on your chin slowly letting go until his warm touch was gone entirely.

"Allow me to leave a request, Y/N," he asked, taking a step away from you as his grin grew wider. "Let's not act like strangers anymore next time we meet on the battlefield."

He shot you a playful wink before adjusting his mask in one smooth motion. Then he was gone, and in a daze you watched how he vanished in the crowd of Fatui agents. Your cheeks were burning, and suddenly you were beyond grateful that tonight's ball had been a masked one. It was a big virtue to the Fatui get-up, hiding not only part of your identity but also the blush that painted your cheeks a vivid crimson.

It took a while before you fully snapped out of your little daze, and you took a deep breath in an attempt to calm your rapid heartbeat. You felt warm and fuzzy and a little bit breathless, and you decided to leave the dancefloor to reunite with the punch that had helped you through the biggest part of your night.

The initially boring Fatui ball had elicited an interesting string of events and you knew you would need some time to process all of it. But one thing was for sure.

You weren't going to ignore the eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers next time you stood face to face with him.

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questifer · 2 years ago

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It's Been A While

Some of you have been following me on Twitter for quite a while now, but for everyone else I'd like to summarize just where I've been and what I have been up to since I left Tumblr. I was going to write this out all in one post, but as it turns out recapping 3 years' worth of dramatic life and career events is a lot. So today, I'll be posting only the first part: Why I left Blizzard and what happened next.

Chapter One: The End of an Era

Last time I was active on here, it was around the 2019 Blizzcon in which I helped create the Bastion Blizzcon Demo. It was a hard Blizzcon and many who were staying with me at the con may have noticed that I was struggling to enjoy myself. As it turned out, the journey up to shipping that demo had been extremely difficult for me. I didn't know it at the time, but I was also in the throes of a 6 month long manic episode. To summarize without going into too much detail, I became extremely paranoid about my coworkers talking behind my back, making choices without consulting me that impacted my work, and dismissing me when I raised concerns. That paranoia manifested in anger that I struggled to contain and so I damaged several important work relationships along the way. I also was barely sleeping, had developed extreme caffeine sensitivity, and ended up at urgent care for gastritis and heart palpitations on more than one occasion. At its peak, I would come home from work and scream-cry on my floor and contemplate either quitting or committing suicide. It became very clear to me that this wasn't your run-of-the-mill creative psychosis that comes over me on occasion when the work itself gets hard. I'll get into the diagnosis, how my psychiatrist and I recognized the manic episode, and how I got to where I am now in a later post. By the time COVID hit and we were all sent home in March 2020, I could not have been happier to get out of the office with people I no longer trusted or thought liked me at all. All at once the social pressure to put on a happy face, respond to people walking up to my desk randomly, and moderate my chaotic emotional state evaporated. With the context of only being perceived while on video calls, I gained the ability to control how I interacted with others. I thought this change in attitude would improve my relationship with my peers, but sadly it didn't. They had already decided I was a horrible collaborator and no longer advocated for me behind closed doors. In truth, I don't really blame them, but I do wish they had given me the benefit of the doubt. It was not business as usual up in my brain-meats. After 4 months of more of the same, I updated my resume and browsed LinkedIn for roles that raised my interest. In truth I had been daydreaming about something new, something with less baggage, but my love for WoW, my team, and Blizzard was still extremely strong. I was very conflicted about leaving. When an opportunity arose to work with a studio in Sweden on an IP that I really liked, it presented a rather romantic idea of what my life could be. I could break clean with all that had been going on at Blizzard. I could live somewhere new and different. I could finally prove that I was not just a WoW quest designer, but a game designer of considerable skill. My friends and family were encouraging but I did not hear them when they brought up very reasonable concerns. Was it too far? How would I do without a support system? Was there another way to accomplish my goals? It was extreme, and I knew it, but a part of me felt that the world would just prevent me from going if I wasn't meant to. And that's how I learned just how easy it was to sell almost everything I owned, pack my life into 3 suitcases, get on a plane, and suddenly live in Sweden.

And with that, I'll pick up with the Sweden Saga in my next post.

#game development #covid19 #pandemic #international relocation #World of Warcraft #mental health crisis #bipolar disorder #manic episode #tw: suicide #suicidal ideation

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underatedcharactersunite · 3 years ago

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Something Better Than Treasure

Summary; Y/N, is the eldest child of Ragnar and Lagertha. As her wish is granted to raid in England, she meets Harald Finehair who's taken back by her. Pairing; Harald Finehair x Female Reader WordCount; 1,117 »»————-　➴　————-««

Y/N was the eldest child of Ragnar Lothbrok and Lagertha. Eldest sister to Bjorn, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd and Ivar. She'd grown up to be a skilled shieldmaiden who could use any weapon given to her. On the other hand, Y/N also expressed her desire to explore the oceans and experience new lands.

However, so far, her father had only allowed her to attend several local raids. Y/N desired more. She wanted to take part in the voyages to England. Yet regardless of the several occasions, she'd pleaded for her father to permit her to come with them. Ragnar denied her.

Until now. Floki and Lagertha pestered Ragnar to allow Y/N to attend the next trip to England with them. Why should the sons of Ragnar be allowed to raid and conquer, yet his eldest child refused her birthright?

Ragnar finally conceded. At the next possible moment, Ragnar was informing Y/N she was travelling to England with them. Ragnar observed as her face lit up in excitement. Suddenly Y/N held a spring in her step as she rushed off to tell her brothers of the news. Even Aslaug is thrilled to observe Y/N's happiness radiating off her. Her happiness appeared to flow through the streets of Kattegat.

With excitement and anticipation running through her veins, Y/N was suddenly spending every waking moment preparing for her first voyage to England.

With excitement and anticipation running through her veins, Y/N was suddenly spending every waking moment preparing for her first voyage to England. She had forgotten how many hours she had been perching on the dock doing various preparations. Suddenly the sun had settled, and the moon had risen.

Meanwhile, Ragnar was sitting beside Aslaug as they feasted and greeted Harald Finehair and Halfdan the black. Ragnar observed as his sons bickered amongst each other. Meanwhile, the other attendees of the feast danced, drank and ate merrily. Looking around, he couldn't pinpoint the location of his daughter.

"Where is she? I told her she needed to attend the feast, yet she is not here." Aslaug turned and glanced at her beloved husband before placing her cup down.

"Husband, she is a grown woman. She will show up to the feast when she's ready. Need I remind you, it was you who informed her she was going to England. Perhaps she's off making her preparations." Ragnar rolled his eyes as he rose from his chair, walking down a couple of steps that separated them from everyone else.

"I'm aware of the age of my child! However, as the Daughter of an Earl, she must attend feasts! Not only that, but I don't want my child to forget that she must eat to be strong."

Ragnar stormed off into the night in search of his daughter. There were a handful of places she could be, but her favourite place to think and contemplate was the docks.

A thudding of footsteps echoed closer and closer. Ragnar swiftly turned to wait for whoever was rapidly approaching him. As the moonlight shone brightly, Ragnar exhaled a breathe as Harald came into view.

"Ragnar, I thought I could accompany you on your walk," Harald said as he slowed down so he could equal Ragnars restarted pace. Ragnar sighed as he continued to make his journey to the docks.

"I am not out for a walk. I'm in search of my daughter. She's not ordinarily like this. She's very polite and is often one of the first to greet our guests."

"Don't worry, Ragnar. I've heard that this trip to England will be her first overseas raid. She must be thrilled and excited. I remember sailing on the oceans for the first time, the anticipation, the nervousness. She must have many emotions coursing through her body."

Just as expected, Ragnar found Y/N sitting on the dock, slowly sharpening her blade. Her mind appeared to be distracted looking out at the water. However, he recognised his daughter better than that. Just as they got close enough, Y/N rose from her feet, swinging her sword aiming it directly at them.

"Easy! Are you really trying to kill your own father?" Ragnar snapped as she lowered her sword rapidly. In her defence, how was she supposed to know who was approaching her?

Harald was frozen in awe as he took in Y/N for the first time. Harald had never graced such a beautiful yet ruthless appearing woman in his life. Harald imagined her to be a rose, beautiful and delicate yet dangerous. Had the God's sent her to him? Because she was magical.

"Y/N, this is Harald Finehair. One of the two men that you were supposed to meet at the docks earlier." Y/N held out her hand, suddenly feeling guilty that so many hours had passed. She hadn't meant to let time slip from her fingers. However, since hearing Father's news, her mind had been distracted. There had been so much to do from sharpening her weaponry. To make sure she had everything she needed. Her Father graciously allowed her to return to England with them, and she wasn't about to fail him.

"Forgive me, Lord Finehair. My mind has been elsewhere with the impending England voyage." Y/N extended her hand out, and Harald took it with ease, pressing a delicate kiss onto her knuckles.

"There's no need to apologise. The pleasure will be all mine once I get to raid with you. You know I've heard of your manly battles, but none talk of how beautiful you are." Y/N was flattered by the sentiment however, Ragnar rolled his eyes in disgust. Harald and Y/N kept their eyes on each other, neither one refusing to glance away first.

"Enough! Will you go and get something to eat before your brothers eat it all." Reluctantly, Y/N snapped out of her trance and excused herself in search of food and her brothers. Ragnar and Harald were left alone once more.

"If you're going to flirt with my daughter, please don't do it in front of me. It's nauseating."

A little while later, Harald returned to the feast, simply enjoying the atmosphere, when his eyes locked onto Y/N once more. She was standing behind her brothers, trying to resolve an argument between Ivar and Sigurd. She pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Ivar's head in an attempt to soothe him. Harald smiled at the scene unfolding in front of him.

"Is everything okay, brother? Why were with Ragnar for so long?" Harald smirked his eyes remaining firmly on Y/N.

"Ragnar introduced me to his daughter, Y/N. I'm glad we agreed to join Ragnar on his return trip to England."

"Why's that?"

“Because I think I found something better than treasure.”

#Vikings imagine #Vikings imagines #Harald Finehair imagines #Harald Finehair imagine #Vikings one shot #Vikings oneshot #Harald Finehair one shot #Harald Finehair oneshot #Nat's end of year Challenge 2021

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cinnamonest · 4 years ago

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Daily Life - Yandere Childe, Zhongli, Xiao

A continuation of the earlier post about Kaeya and Diluc

Content Warnings: n/s/f//w mentions/themes/stuff (but not like, explicit detail), fem reader, normal yandere stuff

==================

Childe's a busy guy. He wakes you up every morning, usually pretty sweetly. He'll nuzzle up against your face, mumbling a "good morning" into your ear. He's sweet, but, you gotta get up when he tells you to. And you have to be the one to make food, he likes watching you walk around.

If he's gone, he is again one to give darling a surprising amount of freedom. He has the highest quality of security available and all, so he allows some roaming. That and, in a sorta terrifying thought, he's one hundred percent confident that even if you got away, he could find you, so he's not even too worried about escaping. He's so confident that you'll never truly escape him, which frankly is pretty intimidating for darling to realize. He'll get you things you like and stuff to do, stimulate your mind and all that, probably as time goes on will leave you chore lists and things you're required to do for him or else.

When he gets back, he's very tired usually, will expect you to make him food and be sweet and greet him at the door when he comes back, preferably on your knees. If you're not, he'll get irritated, especially if you're trying to hide. If you're just asleep or something, he might excuse it and find it cute. But he does a lot for you, you know, the least you can do is this one little thing. If he's had a particularly bad day, he'll be extra irritated, so it's wise to follow this command, and be ready to have all of his irritation taken out on you the moment he gets back. You're his favorite little stress ball to stuff and squeeze.

For days off, as I've said before he's one of the few that will willingly take you outside, and unlike Kaeya from the last routine post he's not in a bad mood about it either. He likes to show you off, likes walking in public holding hands or with his arm around you so that people can see, it gives him a sort of pride, and honestly he likes mimicking a "normal" relationship. But just know you're on a tight leash. Not literally of course... yet. He lays it out very clearly exactly how you are to behave when going outside, not speaking to others and not going out of his sight. Any attempts to make a scene, try to get a stranger to help etc will be dealt with fairly harshly. And don't think about pulling some covert, sneaky shit like trying to look at a stranger with the "help me" facial expression or trying to silently mouth something, slip a written message to a waitress etc -- he'll be watching you closely enough to pick up on any of that, and honestly that will set him off more than blatantly trying to make a scene. You will be immediately headed home to get an attitude adjustment since you can't behave.

Later on, he'll want you to accompany him to his work sometimes, on those days that whatever he has to do involved more sitting down than fighting - paperwork, important meetings, etc. He likes your presence, of course, you make the time pass more quickly. But really this is, more than anything, because he's an arrogant show-off. He'll give you something to fiddle with but will just sit you on his lap throughout the whole time, gently stroking your thigh or resting his head on your shoulder, making you wear embarrassingly revealing things and making sure everyone sees, be it the entire group in a wide meeting hall or some subordinate come to have a one-on-one talk, or even his superiors, thanking them for them letting him bring his pet to work. It even allows him to get in some good de-stressing during the middle of the day when no one else is around. Expect lots of bring-your-fucktoy-to-work days like that.

Of course, not every day is spent out, though. He also has days he'd rather just stay at home. These days are usually after a long period of difficult work and late nights, so he's exhausted. Expect lots of naps, just cuddles and an arm wrapped around your waist (with a solid iron grip, of course). May or may not progress to slow cuddlefucking, who knows (yes it always does). He gets all whiny and demanding because he's soooo tired, so he'll make you get on top after a few rounds.

-------

Honestly we all envy my Zhongli's darling already, but God he's the best to wake up to. He just softly kisses the side of your face, running his hands down your sides. He can't let you sleep in too much, it's bad for your health! You can probably beg for a few minutes extra. And God, is it the best to wake up to. He's already got someone (probably one of the other adepti, a person, who knows) to make you food, and it's never skimping out either, it's always tons of food and your favorite things, too. Within limits, of course, can't have you eating nothing but things that are bad for you. He's also one that will get you tons of things to do throughout the day, virtually anything you ask for, he'll pay for (well... someone will, but you'll think he did, at least). He actually might also give you a list of very simple tasks to do, just to give you some motivation, since even if you have a lot to do, having no tasks and only play can get depressing without the sense of accomplishment. But he's much more lenient on your completion of all of them.

He's always reluctant to leave and gives you a lot of headpats and kisses before finally heading out for the day, always taking time to contemplate whether or not he can just take the day off. During the day you'll stay in the confinements of your cage, be that an abode or a building somewhere, making sure you stand zero chance of ever getting out. If you force his hand (read: multiple escape attempts), he'll reluctantly have to limit your roaming abilities, but once you're confined to a smaller cage and have some privileges taken away, he's certain you'll be on your best behavior to get out again, and maybe be a little more grateful and understanding in the future. Once he gets back, it's generally a very nice time, he likes to lead a quiet life and will want to hear all about your day, what you did, see the progress on all those little projects you've been working on for art or music or whatever hobby you've taken up to pass the time. If he's had a bad day, he'll probably tell you about it, but you know, put it in terms simple enough for you to understand, since you wouldn't normally get such complicated matters.

On very very rare occasions, not nearly as often as Childe, he might take you to on his day with him, probably not during normal workdays, but for some kind of special day -- a large meeting, or the opposite, a day where he has nothing to do but slow paperwork alone in an office. The sunlight is good for you, and he'll bring stuff for you to do too. To be honest, it's not as obvious nor as obnoxiously vocal about it as Childe, but he also does enjoy having your presence in front of others, letting them see you. The things you'll have to wear aren't nearly as obscenely lewd as Childe's either, but they're not entirely wholesome either.

He really likes having off days. On those days, he'll probably want to take you somewhere, generally will do whatever you want to do. He's incredibly knowledgeable on everything in the area, and would probably also really like going out somewhere secluded in nature, rather than in the city, like a nice view from the nearby mountains or the like, and just spend a day there. It's nice, and far away from prying eyes that can't recognize your face off the missing person posters or witness the obscene things that may or may not take place up there.

Spending time home is always nice too, though, just quietly going about the day and doing whatever you want, although inevitably taking breaks for much-needed... displays of physical affection. And he tries so hard to be gentle, but he also has a lot of stress pent up that may just come out and result in being a bit rougher than usual, but he's always apologetic afterward, making sure you're alright. He's also pretty strict about the time you go to bed. Making sure you get enough sleep and all that.

-------

Xiao's poor, poor darling. You always wake up to him shaking you awake. He's impatient. Once he feels you've had enough sleep, he'll get you up like that. Don't try to get more sleep-in time, he's not very gracious on that, will simply huff and yank you up. Otherwise, the mornings can be... Sweet. It's not like he's trying to be so cold all the time; if you're well behaved he can be pretty loving, even if he doesn't quite know how to be gentle. He just has... Low tolerance.

Xiao is very quiet for the most part, and the mornings have a sort of silent peacefulness provided it's one of your days that you don't choose to be difficult. He likes to watch you go about the morning. It's a little creepy to be honest? He just sits there nearby and watches you move around, make food, brush your hair or teeth or whatever. He'll eat whatever you make him, even if it's not one of his extremely limited liked items. He might complain, though.

During the times he IS gone, well, it's extremely boring for poor darling. Early on, or if you've done something to warrant it (read: literally the slightest word of disagreement, a tone of voice he doesn't like, even a facial expression he deems defiant) you'll be bound to the bed, hand and foot. Nothing to do whatsoever but stare at the ceiling. It's your own fault, if you were good maybe it wouldn't be like this, he says. When you are good, and have a nice long-time record of being extremely pleasant and sweet to him - and I mean a LONG time - he might - might - finally let you be unbound aside from a long anklet chain connecting you to the bed. Not like you have much else to do, though. Maybe he'll get you books if you ask nicely and grovel at his feet. But that's it. He doesn't like the thought of giving you too much entertainment. If being alone is mind-numbingly boring, well, you'll enjoy time with him that much more. Eventually you'll reach a point where you're begging him not to leave, he hopes, even if he would never admit to that. So what he'll do is balance it, give you just enough to keep your whining down, but keep making sure you're miserable when alone. He only allows you "activities" (read: a book) on certain days of the week, or every other day, every third day, something like that. And you can only get a new book once a month or so. And it's whatever he finds, not just what you want, so he'll start dropping you with encyclopedias and textbooks and other dull things. You can't complain, after all he IS giving you something to do. If you're gonna complain, well, how would you like to have the reading privilege revoked entirely? And that shuts you up. So, really, poor darling's days are very very bleak, dull, and empty, when alone.

He doesn't really have a "end of the day." His "job" is more or less a 24/7 thing, he goes when he's needed and when he's not needed he'll be with you. Usually it's a semi normal schedule but it can lead to odd intervals - you may have times he's gone for a full day or so, and then times where he's there for a whole day, etc. Spending time together is quiet, but he's surprisingly fond of physical affection. He spends a lot of time just... alone with his thoughts. Spacing out and thinking, looking up at the sky, except, well, now it's him, his thoughts, and you. You'll spend it with him too, iron grip locked around your waist so you can't pull away from his lap. He's also one to need to get out the... frustrations of life through physical activity at night.

Days he's there, again, it's pretty quiet, he's not much one for extensive conversation, of course. If you talk, he'll listen, but don't expect him to say much back. He likes the sound of your voice, one of the only people he doesn't prefer silence to, so long as you're not whining about wanting to leave. He doesn't really have a lot of sitting-down type of work to do, so if he's spending a whole day time with you, it means he's specifically worked it out so that he's able to do so for that purpose. He'll probably prompt you to speak, it's super awkward really. An awkward comment about this or that that he clearly wants you to start talking about, and he'll talk back just a little bit, with his own brand of harsh pessimism -- but that's just the only way he really knows how to communicate, he's not actually trying to shut you down when he responds to everything negatively. It's the most bizarre bonding time, but bonding nonetheless. He also likes to watch you do tasks -- to make food, even if it's just for yourself, to clean and walk around doing your little tasks. He may or may not eventually discover a fondness for forcing you to walk around naked, poor darling.

I've mentioned before that his drive is reactive - it gets heavier when he's with you. So really, your day will be filled with little fun intervals of very spontaneous fucking. Like, he has no sense of mood or timing. It's completely random, very forceful, will just loop his hands under your arms and scoop you up and carry you over to bed at any random moment, interrupting your speech even. Or, sometimes the bed is too far, and just bending you over is easier. And then, he'll just carry on like nothing happened.

He's not one to rant and rave about his day by default, and especially not early on. In the later stages, though, once he's comfortable with you, you might find him slipping out a frustration here or there, a passing comment about something upsetting that happened, and if you pry at it, he'll end up talking, much more than usual. He kind of doesn't even realize he's starting to ramble a bit, and if he catches himself he'll stop and mutter something about it being unimportant anyway.

Bonus little hc: He asks you how your day was. Every day that he's not with you. It's a routine - he started doing it because from his limited knowledge of human relationships, it's the "normal," so he tries to emulate what he feels like is normal in a relationship. It's kind of funny, well, not for poor darling, it feels mocking. Like, how do you think my day was, Xiao? All tied up and left only to stare at the ceiling? If you get all sarcastic with him like that, though, he might see it as grounds for punishment, so, be snarky at your own risk.

#yandere genshin impact #lena's asks

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godlizzza · 2 years ago

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idk if this qualifies as a short-term prompt or if you plan on writing this eventually, but what would it look like if teen dan’s parents were told/found out about him and herbert?

Some love for the boiz instead of the old men!

This is something I kind of intend to write about. I want to write both Herb and Dan interacting with each other's families and how different they are. As to Dan coming out to his parents, that's something I've considered but haven't decided if I'll go into. Knowing Dan, he'd feel like it's something he has to tell them about, because he can't stand keeping his life split into two parts, whereas Herbert doesn't really care who knows and who doesn't, including his fam.

Read below for some Dan contemplations though!

Of all things to put Dan in a stupor, he hadn't anticipated seeing Mr. Halsey to do it. It had been a brief thing; him waving goodbye to Meg as they parted ways outside of the school. He'd watched her stroll over to the road, where her father was there, waiting for her in his sleek, silver BMW. She'd hopped in and kissed him on the cheek before he smiled and pulled away from the gutter.

Dan remembered meeting Mr. Halsey as Meg's boyfriend for the first time. She'd made a whole big thing about it, making him wear his nicest pants and dress shirt before she took him into her house and introduced them to each other. After that it was always an occasion whenever he went over to the Halsey home, dining on whatever delicacy Meg had prepared.

Those dinners, while sometimes stressful, as Dan had to try his best to make only the most positive impression, were also nice. He enjoyed putting on his best face and being rewarded with Mr. Halsey's approving smile. Charming parents had never been difficult for him, but when it was especially rewarding when it came from the family of his sweetheart.

It can never be that way with Herbert though, he thought as he laid on his bed, staring up at the roof and listening to slow, moody records. He'd never be able to take Herbert into his home and introduce him to his parents as his boyfriend. They'd never be able to squeeze next to each other in family photos at Christmas parties or Fourth of July cookouts. His family would never look at Herbert and know what an integral part of Dan's life he was to him.

The thought that it would always have to be this way- that he'd have to keep Herbert, along with this whole part of his life and heart, locked away, separate from his loved ones- depressed him. But what other option did he have? He couldn't just tell them.

He rolled onto his side, staring at the wall in the darkness. The same thought scratched at the back of his skull, itching to get his attention, but he shrugged it away. There was no way. He couldn't tell them. It would change everything. They'd never see him the same way again. What if they told him he couldn't see Herbert anymore? Just the possibility chilled him and he closed his eyes, steeling himself.

No, he decided. I can't tell them. I'll just have to make-do with what I've got.

But as he laid there in the dark, trying to focus on the music and nothing else, the same thought still scratched at him.

#teen danbert #danbert #dan cain #re-animator #my fics #asks #writing prompt #there are so many things I wanna touch on with teen danbert but old men have been taking up my time as of late

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years ago

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*Jake coming home after a long shift*: Babe, what are we having for dinner. *Amy, from the bedroom*: Don't know about me, but you're having cake. *Jake walking to their room*: What are you talkin- *sees her naked with her butt arched perfectly* Don't mind if I do.... (Would love if you could write a fic on this)

(that is... a very Jake thing for Amy to do isn't it 🤣 and... I made it worse)

It's been a long week. If you consider that they literally sit across each other at work, the fact that Jake has only seen his girlfriend in glimpses and little coffee break moments for the past 5 days says more than enough. He got up before her some of those days, to leave early for work. Just thinking that sounds wrong to him.

But the case is finally done, Charles finishing the mountain of paperwork connected to it while Jake calls up some of the beat cops to take the two perps from holding to an actual detention center. Everyone else, safe for Holt, has already left the precinct - Amy gave him the shortest good bye kiss a few hours ago as she packed up her things, while he was groaning over leads that seemed to go nowhere.

When they finally hand in the file, even Holt seems tired. Or at least that's what Jake thinks a tired Holt might look like. He could also be exalted by the end of this case, or distraught about something else. He's really, really hard to read.

Jake is not. He is tired. He is done with the world and looking forward to a weekend of absolutely nothing. But most of all, he is missing Amy something fierce. He's realised he hasn't woken up or fallen asleep to girlfriend-snuggles in a whole week, despite staying at hers every night, to speak nothing of maybe a bit more strenuous things than cuddling.

He sents off a quick text on the way to the garage, waving goodbye to Charles and checking the time to make sure it's not so late she might already be in bed. His luck would have it that he gets off work right when her schedule gets her into bed.

- finally done. want me 2 bring dinner home ?

Home, he thinks, when did he start using that term for Amy's place? It feels right, if she's there.

- Hooray! she answers back immediately, and he smirks at her perfect punctuation even for such a word. Yes, pizza please!

- but not dessert. follows, and he frowns. Their usual pizza spot apart from Sal's has amazing tiramisu, and they always share the large portion.

- that is a crime santiago i can arrest u for that

- I have cake for you here, don't worry.

That, however, is even more frown-worthy. Amy doesn't do cake at home. More specifically, Amy's kitchen only allows cake for special occasions such as birthdays and parties. She was genuinely shocked the first time they went grocery shopping together and he picked up a whole boxed cake from the bakery section for no reason except that he wanted to, well, eat it.

He contemplates what she could be up to while ordering the pizza, checking his phone to see if she's sent any more of an explanation, and when she doesn't, he adds a regular portion of tiramisu to the order. Just to be safe. If all else fails, he can still sneak it into the fridge and eat it some time tomorrow when she's busy.

-*-

"Pizza delivery!" He yells into the hallway as he opens the door - he got keys to her place not a month ago, and the feel of them in his hands still makes him grin dopily.

"Did they send the cutest delivery guy like I requested?" Her voice calls back from somewhere he can't quite place. She's not on the sofa he's passing now, nor in the kitchen where he's putting down the pizza cartons. (There is also, suspiciously, no cake on the counter nor in the fridge, where he hides the tiramisu behind a bag of wilting lettuce.)

"Where are you, babe?!" He calls out again, and hears a giggle - from the bedroom.

"I've got your cake here!" is the confusing answer, and the look on his face as he pushes open the bedroom door is definitely a puzzled one, but it very, very quickly turns into a wide-eyed look of awe.

Amy is practically splayed out against the cushions on the bed, stark naked, her legs slightly tented and otherwise spread wide, giving him the most amazing view that'll never not take his breath away. There's something new to that beloved view, however: a trail of whipped cream on her pubic mound, making the shape of a heart around her perfectly trimmed little tuft of pubic hair. The pointed tip of the heart is barely an inch away from her perfect slit.

He swallows hard and blinks, his brain momentarily off duty, and stares her up and down as her seductive smile falters. It turns into a fidgety nervousness as she greatly misreads his silence.

"It's- I thought it would be a cute surprise- the magazine said- I- this is stupid, I'm sorry-" She stutters as she tries to reach for the bedside table, where he can see the can of whipped cream next to some towels and wipes, but before she can reach it he has her legs pinned down as he climbs onto the bed.

"This is dessert? Before dinner even?" He says in his flirty voice, and Amy calms down slightly realising he's not going to laugh at her. She only nods and bites her lip. He tilts his head and surveys her lying in front of him, her hands nervously folded across her chest, hard nipples peaking out from underneath her arms, a blush trailing from her face all the way down her neck. Her legs are spread even wider than before with his hands on her thighs, and he can definitely see her wetness already growing.

"Best. Cake. In the world." He leans down to lick away the top of the cream heart as she giggles. "You read this in a magazine?"

"Yeah, it was a, uh-" she giggles again as his tongue tickles across her skin. "-a 'Spice up your sex life' article-"

"I'm getting you a subscription." He mumbles against the crease of her thigh before sucking a hickey into it, then returning to the whipped cream that's still left. "Not that I think we need to spice up anything, but if it gets you these kind of ideas..."

She probably wants to answer something, but only manages a high-pitched keen when his tongue finishes on the pointed end of the now decimated heart and then slips down that last little inch, licking between her folds and over her clit.

"You know", he says, sitting up to move down the bed a bit for a better position, his hands sliding down the inside of her thighs and rubbing along the crease of her hips, "this might be the only cake where I don't prefer just the frosting."

Her little laugh turns into a moan as he dives in, his mouth hungry on her heat. He doesn't go for the prize immediately though, pretty much ignoring her stiff, raised clit in favour of slowly running his tongue along her folds, sucking them into his mouth, trailing kisses along the edge of her pussy. Her back arches off the bed as one finger slowly circles around her entrance before pushing in, his other hand sliding from her hip across her shivering sides to reach for her breast, pinching and rubbing her nipple.

"Ja~ake..." She groans in complaint, even as a second finger slips into her, but barely moves once inside. She can feel his grin as he kisses away the last bit of sticky sweetness left over from the whipped cream, so close yet so far away from where she wants him.

He hums against her skin as he moves back down to continue his slow caress, and the vibration is enough to make her clench around his fingers. His thumb slides against her clit, and she thinks he's finally getting somewhere, but it only presses down and doesn't move. The pressure feels wonderful enough, but what she really needs is some friction.

"Don't tease...!" She huffs, causing him to lift his face off of her completely again.

"I'm just savouring my sweet treat." He grins at her, and fuck, she hates that grin so much that she loves it again. "You're always telling me not to eat so fast."

"That doesn't-" She protests before sucking in a deep breath as he places a kiss to where his thumb just moved away. She has no words left when he finally wraps his lips around her clit.

He can her her struggle and whine above him as he starts to suck, her hands scrabbling for purchase in the sheets. God, he loves the noises he wrings out of her as the tip of his tongue presses hard circles around her nub, the moans and hisses when his lips tighten around it and pull ever so slightly. He knows how to crook his fingers pumping into her just so that she'll groan and throw her head back against the pillow. She grabs onto the wrist of his hand that has found its way to her breast again, squeezes hard with each of his pinches, and he knows she's replicating his movements on her other breast as well.

It's such a wonderful mixture of noises, sensations, taste, and heavy heat around them, he truly never wants it to end, even as the bulge in his jeans grows almost painfully hard against its fabric restraints. But it must end at some point, and he can tell she's getting closer to it as her legs tense and lift her up, only her toes pushing into the mattress as she grinds her crotch against his mouth. His fingers double their efforts as he circles her clit even faster, and then she's cresting around him, against him, her whole body going rigid and shaking as she lets out the loudest, most obscene noise he knows. He kisses her clit softly as she comes down from her orgasm, shivering all over, his fingers slowing and stilling before he slips them out and licks them clean.

She's still panting and breathing hard as he trails kisses up her stomach onto her chest, lips and tongue ever so softly grazing along her stiff peaks. He knows she's too sensitive everywhere right now to want much else (although he has pushed her through that once or twice, making her scream and beg and whine without any plan of stopping), so he settles his hand on the side of her ribcage as he kisses her cheek.

"I missed you so much this week." He mumbles against her neck as he snuggles into her naked side, still fully dressed.

"I can tell." She answers as her breathing evens out, and they both giggle. "I missed you too."

"Yeah, I can tell." He pinches her nipple to make her squeal as he nibbles her neck, before a hand in his hair pulls him to her face for a kiss, soft and slow. His tongue brushes against her lower lip, and she pulls it in, licking the last remnants of her taste off of it.

"I feel like I need to come up with something creative to seduce you now too." He muses, before sitting up slightly and beaming at her with an idea. "Oh, I could cut a hole in the pizza carton-"

"You are not sticking your dick into a greasy box."

"Title of your sex tape." He laughs at her as she faintly punches his shoulder.

"Idiot." She scolds him with a smile before wrapping her hand around the bulge in his jeans and squeezing, making him groan. "But I agree that we do need to take care of this... situation."

"Mhhn." He pulls her hand away carefully. "I think we should keep that for actual dessert, before the pizza gets from perfect display temperature to actually cold."

"Alright." She pushes his shoulder down into the mattress though, leans over him and kisses him hard and deep before sitting up and enjoying the view of the dazed face under her. "Pizza it is then."

She jumps out of the bed without so much as putting underwear on, let alone a robe, and as he watches her swaying hips and perfect butt walk out of the door, he figures that dinner is most definitely going to be ice cold before they're finished. And he can certainly think of a use for that secret tiramisu hiding in the fridge.

#b99 #broklyn 99 #peraltiago #jake peralta #amy santiago #smexy times #that tag has to hold out until i find something better #title of my sex tape #also feel the need to do a PSA: please do not sugary stuff like whipped cream on your hoohaa #it does not... mix well #there's a reason this if FICTION

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desertofsnowflakes · 3 years ago

Text

Incorrect Order Chapter 5 (Nessian AU)

A/N: Do inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!

Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, an angry Nesta and a heart-broken Cassian

2094 words | Incorrect Order Masterlist | Read on AO3

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Nesta had never been one for small talk but in his presence she spoke as if she was excellent in small talk. They spoke of all unimportant things and ended up forgetting the important stuff; their names. Again.

Feyre sent an invitation for her first anniversary party as she did for every other occasion. The only thing different was that Nesta never bothered to pay heed to her invitations before. After the day in the alley, however, she decided she was going to turn over a new leaf. This was her first step.

She checked her reflection on the side-mirror. She tried to keep her outfit and make-up as simple as possible. She only wore a white ruffled-sleeved blouse with a black pencil skirt. Her hair was braided into a coronet. She looked good, but not as good as she’ll look if she took her own time to do a detailed make-over. She let out a breath and braced herself for the inevitable little chat with her sisters.

“Nesta?” a bewildered voice breathed. She whirled around to face her younger sister, Elain, looking up at her, a small smile playing about her lips. “You’re here,” she said and flung her arms around Nesta. Nesta automatically wrapped her arms around Elain’s smaller frame. Eventually, Elain pulled back.

“No offense, but I really thought you wouldn’t be coming,” Elain said.

Nesta felt as if the smile on her face couldn't be wiped out for the next few hours. “Honestly, I didn't think I'd come either. But here I am.”

She nodded and pulled Nesta to the garden the party was held at.

“I did this,” Elain said. “This garden, I planted and groomed all this.”

“No wonder why it looks so beautiful,” Nesta replied.

She flushed and said contemplatively, “You're so different now, Nesta.”

“I hope in a good way. Where's Feyre?”

“Let's go meet everyone first.”

Nesta shook her head. “I— I need to talk to both of you before I meet everyone else. ”

Elain hesitated then said, “Can you wait in that room? I'll fetch Feyre and come.”

Nesta nodded and headed to the door at the end of the garden Elain pointed at. The room was classy, much like the exterior of the house. She was struck by the simple yet grand theme of Feyre's house. She knew he and his brothers were rich but she just didn't understand the extent of their wealth. Till now.

“What are you thinking?” Feyre wasn't the type to blindly trust people. It took more than coming for her anniversary to persuade her that Nesta's intentions were good.

Nesta faced Feyre, her youngest sister, who stood before her, gorgeous yet fierce in a simple but elegant blue gown. She shrugged, “Just thinking that I'm glad my sisters were well-provided when I couldn't take care of them.”

Feyre’s face didn’t change, she just gestured towards the couches. “Have a seat,” she said.

Nesta sat down, “You both look splendid,” she said. Feyre said that the gown was a gift, Elain thanked Nesta and offered the same.

Nesta cleared her throat. “I need to tell the both of you something. Many things, actually.”

Elain nodded encouragingly. Feyre said, “Go on.”

So Nesta spoke. She apologised. For how she wasn't there to fulfill the role of an elder sister. For how she failed to attend Feyre's marriage and many other occasions. For all the rude words she spoke to them. For shunning them. She apologised for being self consumed. For everything else.

She also promised. To try harder. To become better. To be a good sister and sister-in-law. To be with them at all times, especially when they needed her. And they listened.

“I know these words aren't enough, but I'll try to make it so,” she finished, her hands clasped with both her sisters on her sides.

“You said you'll try, Nesta. We will too,” Feyre said.

“I see a very bright future ahead of us,” Elain said.

Nesta couldn't help the tears anymore. She folded her arms around her sisters and tucked them close. Her sisters. Her beloved sisters she now knew she'd do anything to protect.

“I see a very bright future too,” Nesta said.

Nesta pulled back after what felt like an hour and looked at her sisters' tear-streaked faces.

“I love you,” the three of them said simultaneously. Nesta giggled. Elain laughed. Feyre stared.

Nesta gently brushed the tears from both of their cheeks. “I don't want to see any of you crying.”

She hugged them again, willing the hug to convey everything she didn't say out loud.

“Now, now, enough snuggling. We've got a party to attend and people to meet, remember?” Feyre said.

***

Cassian was anxious. He had always hoped Nesta, his sister-in-law, would come for the gatherings they had; be it family dinners, or birthday parties, or the random meetings they had when they just got tipsy and played games. He hadn't seen her face-to-face before. All he knows about Nesta are from the descriptions from Feyre and Elain. That, too, was minimal. One of them would quickly change the topic to something pleasant the moment traces of an emotional breakdown were visible. Every time he hoped, he was let down. She never came. He vowed he would stop hoping and instead just go about and act as if she didn't exist. But that never happened. Every time his family met, his treacherous heart would start hoping only to have a chunk of it fall off when she failed to attend. Today was no different.

Then there’s the woman who he’d been talking to the whole afternoon. He was a tangled up mess of emotions and doubt and confusion. He had been sort-of pining after Nesta. She was exactly the person he’d like. Apparently she was drop-dead gorgeous, witty and… feral. Feyre said that. Feral. She’d be someone worth seeing. She was totally a worthy opponent. It’d be fun. But the other woman? Mother above, she was ethereal. More than ethereal, in fact. Words can't contain what he had to say about her.

He was damn near killing Az for calling him right when they were about to exchange names. He really can't believe he was a hairsbreadth away from knowing her before it was all ripped away. Now they were back to square one. He didn't know anything about her.

Azriel clapped him on his back so hard that he almost stumbled and fell. Or probably that was because he was too distracted. “All good Somm?”

“Mmm-hmm,” he replied noncommittally. He busied his hands with re-rinsing the champagne flutes and wiping them clean again. He did this two times already. Still.

“Mood is sour today, Cass?” Az teased, mock-frowning.

“Nah,” Cassian said wryly, “it's as sweet as honeydew. Especially today, when my chat got interrupted.” He glared at Azriel.

“Now, now, that is a story for another day. For now though, I think I've got something that can cheer up your brooding self.”

“What is it?” he mumbled.

Az grinned. “Nesta is here.”

***

Feyre and Elain took Nesta on a quick tour around the house. Feyre’s paintings were hung on the walls throughout the whole house. Nesta grimly noticed that there wasn't a single picture of her. There were even paintings of their father whose heart had long stopped beating. But none of hers. If only she didn’t push herself away, Nesta would’ve been a happy part of her sisters’ lives.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Feyre took her hand in hers. Elain tucked herself to Nesta’s side, wrapping her arms over her slender shoulders.

Nesta already met Mor, a stunning blonde woman, and Amren, a slightly intimidating and short person. Now she only had to meet her brother-in-laws.

“Let’s go meet the boys!” Elain said brightly.

We walked back to the garden. Feyre seemed to get more and more elated the closer we got to the garden. Huh. Probably falling in love would do that to someone. Anyway, as long as her sisters were happy.

They stepped through the doorway. The garden was decorated with more banners and streamers hung on the back of chairs and on the low branches. Again, it looked opulent in a simple way.

There were three men in the centre of the garden, gathered around a table. They all were slightly similar, broad shouldered, tapered waists, muscular limbs. Three of them wore formal shirts and pants clinging to their frames. The one in the middle was Rhysand, she supposed. She smirked internally. Of course Feyre ended up with this guy. She's got a good taste. Must've gotten it from the oldest sister.

The one on the right, though. His figure felt familiar. Very, very familiar. She couldn't quite put a finger on it yet.

“The one on the left is Azriel, the one on the right is Cassian,” Feyre said, and Nesta nodded.

The boys must be really engrossed with their conversation. They hadn't noticed the three of them yet.

The guy she thought was familiar threw his head back and laughed. She gasped. That laugh. She'd know the laugh anywhere. Indeed, when he angled his face so that she could get a glimpse, she knew she was done for. She swallowed with much difficulty.

“I need to go,” she said quickly.

“Go? But— but we haven't cut the cake yet. It's still early. We've got lots more fun stuff,” Elain said.

“You said you'll try, Nesta. Only, this doesn't feel like 'trying',” Feyre said.

They sounded… hurt.

Mother above, I'm doing this wrong.

“Nesta?” Elain asked. “Is something wrong?”

“Yeah,” Feyre added, “you look pale.”

“Y-yeah it's f-fine. Kinda. My head hurts,” she said, accidentally clutching her stomach. “I-I mean, yeah my head hurts. Very badly. I gotta go.” She looked helplessly at both of them. “I'm so sorry. I really am. It's just— I think I need rest. I'll recompense. Probably dinner in three days?” They both shared a look and agreed.

Nesta was already walking away. “Love you both,” she threw over her shoulder.

***

“Feyre!” Rhys called. He beckoned Feyre and Elain to the table. He didn't see Nesta.

Cassian lightly kissed Feyre on her cheek once they made their way to the table and said, “Gorgeous as always. Happy anniversary!”

Feyre grinned, but it showed traces of disappointment.

He frowned. “Hey, what's wrong?”

She just shook her head and mumbled, “Nesta.” Rhys's face hardened. His brother was never fond of Nesta. He said that she was why Feyre was always worried.

“Where's Nesta?” Az asked, craning his neck to see behind farther.

“She… left,” Elain pointed, revealing a figure disappearing behind the gates. A figure he knew all too well. Shitshitshitshit.

His head snapped back to his brothers. “That is Nesta?” he damn near shouted.

Rhys scowled, “Yeah.”

No wonder why she's so beautiful, he thought dumbly before running after her with a quick “I'll be back.”

***

Nesta was wrong. In all her happiness of being reunited with her sisters, she completely forgot how even a small thing can break one's smile. She felt like she couldn't breathe. She kept her calm demeanour, but inside, she was a raging storm of emotions.

One step in front of the other, she kept reminding herself.

She kept walking. Even when she heard footsteps. Even when the steps got louder. Even as he got close enough to cease running.

But not when he called her name. She halted. Locked up her emotions. She knew she shouldn't but she turned around anyway.

“What do you want?” she snapped.

“Nesta,” he breathed. She tried to hold back her shudder. It was from the night air, she told herself.

“If you have nothing to say, do let me know. I'm not going to wait forever,” she said. Harsher than she intended to. But she didn't care, at least, that's what she told herself.

Cassian winked, “I'm honored you came, sweetheart. I'll pass the credit to my influence on you. ”

She ground her teeth against the truth threatening to fall off her lips. Yes, I came here because you made me happy. And I thought that if I tried, as I did with you, I can rebuild my relationship with my sisters.

***

Cassian did something stupid. He grabbed her hand. Her eyes snapped to his, burning with anger. Like the day they first met.

He gave her a crooked grin that he knew would drive her mad. Well, more than she already was. He tilted his head to the garden, “The party is that way, love.”

She snatched back her hand at continued walking. Like a fool, he followed. “I spoke to my sisters. Told them I won't be staying tonight. And that we'll have dinner in three day's time. Does that satisfy you? Now, can you stop following me?”

“Something's wrong. What's wrong, Nes?”

“One,” she ground out, “don't call me that. Two, I'm a grown-ass woman; I know how to take care of myself. I don't need a babysitter.”

“You did. That day,” he said quietly.

She whirled on him, “Is this you taking back favours? Because I'm not interested. You want money? Take it. Tell me your price and fucking take it! Don't tread on my heels because you helped me, okay? I've got way better things to do.” She paused, “And don't follow me, Cassian.”

She turned and stalked away.

You want money? Take it. 'Take it.' As if he were a beggar, asking for alms. As if they weren't laughing at each other's jokes not more than an hour ago. As if he didn't spend a week taking care of her as if she were a part of his soul. Maybe she was.

But that was before, Cassian thought as his heart cleaved into two perfect halves. No— it smashed to a million tiny pieces.

He waited till Nesta was out of his line of sight. He turned and walked back to the garden, leaving his heart behind.

taglist: @shadowsinger07 @im-someone-i-guess @saltyfortunes @cressjacquine @julian-blackthorn-supremacy @champanheandluxxury @zemiraa @ladygabrielli1997 @nehemikkele @heartless--aromantic @sv0430 @ddsworldofbooks @irenethaleia @sjm-things @dontgetsalmonella

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sweetcherrypie1967 · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet Tooth

Now to anyone else this wouldn't be a big deal but to those that knew her, they knew she wasn't one to get very confused. After all, they don't call her the brightest witch of her age for nothing. She was always trying to find a logical explanation for everything she encountered and dealt with it accordingly.

But this had her stumped.

Every week her parents would send many sweets to her to share with her friends. While they were dentists and protested excessive amounts of candy, they trusted she was responsible enough not to use them in excessive amounts. They also knew that Hermione's friends enjoyed sweets very much so they felt no guilt in sending so much. It was a sweet gesture that Hermione looked forwards to every week but this week, however, she had put the sweets in a bowl in the Heads Common Room so that others were free to have some and the next morning they were gone.

She hadn't even had any of her friends in the Common Room since putting this week's batch there. So where could it have gone?

Hermione was contemplating this staring at the empty bowl when the Head Boy came out from his room. His blond hair still wet from just taking a shower as he cheerfully bounded down the steps.

"Good morning Hermione," Draco Malfoy said.

"Good morning, Draco," she said, "you wouldn't happen to know what happened to the sweets my parents sent me, would you?"

He paused mid-stride, looked at the empty bowl and pretended to think hard. "Nope, not a clue," Draco said shrugging before continuing in the room with a spring in his step.

It was a shock to Hermione when she found out that she would have to share the Head Dorms with Draco. It really did make sense why he was chosen as Head Boy, so she shouldn't have been surprised. He was second only to her in their year and earned the position just as much as she did. Hermione was so worried about it that she almost went to McGonagall on the verge of asking to be demoted to Prefect. The more she thought about it though, the she decided that she'd worked too long and hard to get to be the Head Girl so she wasn't going to give it up so easily. So, they put up with each other as neither was willing to back down and they eventually became somewhat friends.

"Well you seem to be in an awfully good mood today," Hermione commented

"You're right, as usual. I am in a fantastic mood today," Draco said plopping down on one of the couches by the fireplace.

"May I ask why?" Hermione said amused. While she did find him a lot more pleasant to be around, it was still rare to catch him in a particularly good mood.

"Because, dearest Hermione, today is the day that I am going to ask out that girl I told you about to Hogsmeade this weekend," he said grinning.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Hermione said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

As they were getting closer and trusting each other more, Draco confided -or more like Hermione caught on and he confessed- that he had a secret crush on some mystery girl. He went on about how beautiful and smart and wonderful she was, though Draco refused to reveal her identity. At first Hermione was excited that he was trusting her enough to tell her something so personal, but couldn't help feeling a pang in her chest. She hadn't the slightest idea why until a few weeks ago while talking to her good friend Ginny Weasley.

Hermione has her own crush on the blond boy.

Still, she wouldn't allow it to show, he obviously didn't feel the same as he was so occupied by this other woman. And why should I even hope for anything else? Just because we're friends now doesn't change that he's Draco Malfoy and she's Hermione Granger, they'd never work..

..could they?

"Hey? Hermione?" Draco said bringing her out of her thoughts.

"Hm? Oh sorry, what were you saying?" Hermione said embarrassed.

"I was asking if you were alright, you kinda zoned out there," he said with a charming smile that made her melt.

"Yeah I'm alright, just lost in thought I guess," she explained.

"Ok," Draco said before launching into all his different ideas of where to take this mystery girl. Hermione listened while secretly picturing him and herself going to do these activities, even if she knew they were never going to happen. "I don't know, Hermione..maybe I'm getting my hopes too high," he said sadly.

This snapped her back to reality. Draco Malfoy, aka sexiest boy at Hogwarts, worried about some girl rejecting him? She didn't know whether to be proud he wasn't being too egotistical or worried he's gone mad.

"You're not ill, are you?" Hermione teased.

"I mean it, Hermione. What if she says no?" He worried.

"Where's that Malfoy confidence of yours? Of course she'll say yes," she told him encouragingly.

"I don't know...after all I've done? Me and her haven't had the best track record, I wouldn't blame her," Draco said looking at the fire.

"Draco Malfoy, do you care for this girl?" Hermione asked.

"I think I made that pretty clear," he said rolling his eyes.

"Yes or no," she said bossily.

"Yes," Draco laughed.

"Do you think you could fall for her?" She asked.

Draco looked at her for a moment and thought about what she was asking. "Yes," he said honestly.

"Then that's all that matters. If she rejects you then that just means she isn't the one who's meant for you, you have proven that you've changed time and time again this year so if she can't see that then thats her loss," Hermione said firmly, "besides, would you rather go on without knowing how she'd answer? Without being able to say you tried?"

"You're right, as always. I'm being silly aren't I?" Draco said cracking a smile.

"Yes, yes you are," she told him to which they both laughed.

There was a part of Hermione that selfishly wished this mystery girl would reject to his offer but another that wished she would agree, just so Hermione can see him happy. Only time could tell.

"So when are you going to tell me who this girl is?" Hermione asked him.

"After I ask her," he promised with a twinkle in his eye.

"And when when will you be asking her?" Hermione asked.

"Not telling," Draco said.

****

It was dinnertime in the Great Hall. Hermione was sitting at the Gryffindor table with Harry Potter along with Ron and Ginny Weasley while Draco was sitting at the Slytherin table with Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and Daphne Greengrass. He's been fiddling with his hands nervously the entire time, too anxious to eat anything.

"C'mon mate, why are you so worried? Who in Merlin's name would reject you?" Theo said.

"Any girl that's got a brain," Blaise teased to which Daphne elbowed him, "ouch!..bloody woman...I mean, yeah what he said."

"Really Draco, could you at least tell us who she is? It might be easier for us to help if we knew," Daphne urged.

"No, you'll find out soon enough. I don't need help I..just need a minute," Draco assured his closest friends.

"Dinner will be over soon, you'd better make it fast. Especially if you want to get something to eat," Blaise said.

"Yeah, ok. Here I go," Draco said more to himself than anyone else before standing up and striding across the Great Hall.

Right to the Gryffindor table.

He shook his head as if to rid himself of his nerves and show his famous Malfoy confidence as he got closer. As he approached, Draco could feel all the eyes on him but he paid them no mind.

Not until her eyes were on him.

Draco sat down next to her as if he did it everyday, and he had done this on occasion throughout the current year.

"Hey Hermione, you remember that girl I was telling you about?" Draco asked, knowing everyone within earshot would be listening.

"Yes..oh! Did you ask her? What did she say?" Hermione asked intrigued.

"No actually, I haven't asked her yet," Draco told her, "I'm kinda getting to that."

"You'd better hurry if you want to do it today," Hermione said.

"Yeah, I should," Draco agreed. Hermione went back to her food, expecting him to go off and ask the girl, not wanting to see what would happen.

"Hermione," Draco said trying to regain her attention.

"Yeah?" She said not looking up.

He gently put his hand on her chin and tilted her head to look at him. "Would you like to go with me to Hogsmeade this weekend?" He asked.

"But I thought you were going with that mystery girl?" She said not piecing it together.

Draco sighed dramatically, "for the brightest witch of our age, you really can be . You're the mystery girl. I'm asking you on a date to Hogsmeade."

Her mouth dropped, along with almost everyone else's. Everyone else was still getting used to the idea of Hermione and Draco being friends and now he was asking her on a date?

"Oh! Yes, yes of course!" Hermione said excitedly before crushing him in a hug.

Draco laughed, "and by the way, it was me who ate the candy from your parents," he admitted in a whisper.

"It was you?" She exclaimed but somehow managed to keep the same volume.

"Yes, but don't worry I'll make it up to you," he promised.

And Draco did just that. The first activity the two did together in Hogsmeade was go straight to Honeydukes and let Hermione pick out all the sweets she desired. Draco, of course, picked out many as well for himself and paid for all of it.

"Draco Malfoy, how many sweets did you buy? The whole shop?" Hermione said surprised.

"What can I say? I guess you could say I've got a sweet tooth," Draco told her.

"That's an understatement," Hermione laughed.

They spend the rest of the day doing various things around the small town. Draco took her to a bookshop, the Three Broomsticks and anywhere else she wanted. Back in their Common Room they ate and exchanged their sweets while talking about their day.

All was well.

#dramione #harry potter #dhr #draco malfoy #draco x hermione #hermione granger #dhr fanfiction #dramione imagines #dramione drabbles

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bleepblopbloop56 · 4 years ago

Text

100 things to do under the stars

(Analogical, no warnings)

1: stargaze

Virgil dragged Logan out from the warmth of the truck and into crisp fall air. They were in the middle of nowhere, it was nearly midnight, and the clouds were practically nonexistent. There wasn't a light for miles, aside from the still dimming headlights of Virgil's pickup truck. They had to be in someone's backyard or private property, but with a field so vast and expansive who would know to say anything.

“Virgil-” Logan started before swiftly getting shushed by Virgil. He jerked open the door to the backseat, pulling out piles of blankets and pillows.

“Lo, i'm gonna need you to ignore how sketchy this looks and help me pad the bed of the truck, there's a meteor shower tonight and i want you to see it.” Virgil tossed him some handfuls of quilts and stuffed animals. It seemed as if he found every even remotely soft thing in his apartment and shoved it in the car. They passed the truck bed and Virgil hoisted him into the makeshift bed, before bracing the side of the truck and hoping for himself.

They stayed silent as they got comfortable, that was Logan's favorite part about their friendship, they could just exist around each other without any pressure to perform social cues like small talk.. They could just be. Logan reached down and intertwined their hands, making virgil's heart skip a beat.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, shifting closer to his friend “I needed this” Virgil swallowed roughly, laying his head closer to Logan’s as they watched the stars

7: contemplate existence + 11: drink coffee

“Do you think there's something else out there?” Virgil asked after a long stretch of comfortable silence. This time, they sat on the roof of the truck, coffee in hand and feet dangling off the edge of the truck.

“Be more specific.” Logan took a sip of his coffee, bringing it to his mouth with both hands. It provided a nice warmth against the chill of the night, something his black wool coat was vaguely failing to provide.

“Life.. do you think we're alone here?” Logan wanted to say no with a definite certainty that Virgil was looking for, but that would be irresponsible to answer with a certainty he didn't have.

“Arthur Clarke once said ‘Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.’” he settled on instead. Virgil grimaced and pulled his legs up to sit cross-legged and turned his body to face Logan. He tried to make eye contact with him, but Logan continued to look up into the abyss.

“That's not what I asked,” he said “I wanna know what you think.” Logan took another slow sip of his coffee to stall. Eventually, he brought it away from his mouth and turned to face Virgil

“I dont know..” he admitted “it seems.. impossible that there's an infinite universe beyond our capability of comprehension that is simply empty. I don't believe there will ever be certainty on our end, so,” he put the coffee down and laid down, putting his eyes back on the stars “i'd rather not worry about it.”

32: question your own mortality *

“What do you suppose the point of it all is Virgil?” he had become rather acquainted with the empty field he and Virgil spent nearly every clear night in. They hadn't even got out of the car this time before Logan started their nightly talks.

“I thought it scared you to talk about things like that.” Virgil jokes to mask that he didn't have an answer. He jerked open the door but didn't get out.

“Do… Do you ever question why we're here?” Logan knew the answer to that, and Virgil constantly thought about his life and his purposeless existence. Virgil took pity on him when he noticed his big brown eyes sparkling in the light the car turned on. So mundane, and yet Virgil had seemed to romanticize the smallest things around Logan.

“Get out, I wanna show you something,” Logan followed wordlessly. “I think..” Virgil continued, once they were out of the truck and on top of it “that it's different for everyone. For me, I just want to spend my short existence here experiencing life for what it is. Good and the bad, mostly good.” Virgil smiled softly as he laid down on the roof “ look at that… all the stars feel so close i could touch and yet impossibly far away. I can't see a horizon from here, it feels like I'm in the middle of all of them, here with you.”

Logan laid on his side beside him, still not fully getting it. “You think you were put into existence to look at stars?”

Virgil hoisted himself up on his elbows, craning his head back to continue looking at the abyss. “I think that's what i'm choosing to do with my existence, what are you choosing to do with yours?” Logan stayed quiet for a long time, just looking at Virgil and thinking before he jutted his head forward and kissed him. Virgil pulled back, heart beating a million miles a minute.

“Logan?” he whispered.

“If we get to choose what we do with our lives then i wanna spend mine like this, with you, and i've wasted too much time thinking.” he almost had tears in his eyes as he leaned forward again, letting Virgil close the gap this time.

* (+ 53: have your first kiss)

65: and your second

72: and third

83: and many many more

99: propose

They continued going to their favorite spot for years, when they got older they bought the plot of land that they called theres and built a tiny cabin on the edge of the field. And one night, after 5 years of dating, virgil pulled logan into the middle of the field, walking this time. Fireflies and the moon are their only real source of light so far out in the field.

Logan giggled as he attempted to keep balance while Virgil swung him around

“What's got you in such a good mood?” Logan laughed, getting pulled into a nervous kiss by his boyfriend

“Virgil!” he smiled a little wider, “what's the occasion?”

“Look up, and name all the constellations you can see,” Virgil asked quietly, hands fisted in his jacket pockets. Logan looked suspicious before doing as he was told, listing all he could remember the name of. Just as he was getting to the end of his list, Virgil cut him off.

“Hey Logan?” When he looked back, Virgil was kneeling on the ground with a small navy blue box in his hands. “Can I ask you something?”

Logan did not consider himself overly emotional, he nearly prided himself on it, and yet he couldn't seem to stop the hitch in his breath and rush of tears to his eyes. He wordlessly nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Virgil opened the box and revealed a ring with a simple diamond in the middle of a black band with stars engraved into the side. He stayed silent as the tears started cascading down his face. “Do you remember when you said you wanted to spend your life with me under the stars?” Logan had to pull his hands to his mouth to contain the sob of happiness he couldn't. Virgil was also crying, a wide nervous grin on his face “will you make that official with me?”

“Yes!” Logan choked out, nodding profusely and collapsing into Virgil's arms when he stood up to hug him. He pulled back and kissed him, he kissed him for the millionth time with all the passion and love of the first. He pressed his forehead into Virgils, having to bend a little to accommodate for the height difference.

“I love you” he mumbled, tears starting to end their freefall, even if only for a minute. “So so much”

100: get married.

Roman bustled around their small cabin with the kind of nervousness more reserved for the grooms than the best man. He had been preparing this day- well, night- for months and had been more of a bridezilla than either of the actual men getting married. Guests were starting to arrive just after the sun went down and the stars were starting to peek through the darkness. Fairy lights shone just enough to allow the guests to find their seats without hassle, but not too much as to outshine the stars.

“Are you sure everythings ready?” Roman asked Logan once again, meeting a hard eye roll with an exacerbated grin.

“Yes Roman, I'm positive.” He couldn't help the feeling of joy riding in his throat when he checked his watch. He was getting married… to the most beautiful man on earth, under the stars, in his own backyard with all his friends… holy shit

“Logan!” Patton called from the doorway, excited to be helping even if he'd been there since noon “its time! Come on “

Virgil was…. He couldn't think of the right word.. Gorgeous, ethereal, amazing, perfect, genius, beautiful, unreal, indescribable… Logan felt in his heart as he was walked down the aisle by the designated group dad friend. He wore a velvet deep purple suit with black trims and converse sneakers, hair freshly dyed from a week before, and on top of his head sat a small crown with diamond stars. As much as he despised wedding traditions, this was his “something borrowed” generously lended by Roman to tie in the night theme. The wedding was small, neither of their families even invited to attend, and their friend group tiny but close knit. Patton bounced down the aisle with Virgil's arm intertwined in his, Logan didn't think the concept of “handing off the “bride ``'' was appropriate here, but neither of them could deny Patton's puppy dog eyes.

The rest of the night went off without a hitch, dancing, kissing, crying, a small potluck with a modest red velvet wedding cake, and in the center of it all was stars. The decorations, the rings, the vows and the night sky, all of it was perfect. When all the guests left, and Virgil and Logan were finally alone, Logan pulled out a wedding present he had gotten for virgil.

“What's this?” he asked, still riding the high of “Holy shit i'm really married”

“Open it.” virgil undid the navy wrapping paper, and opened the box. Inside, there was a book titled “100 things to do under the stars, by Logan Cade”

Virgils heart jumped when he realised logan had used his new last name.

#thomas sanders #sander sides #bleepblop writes #analogical #logan sanders #sanders sides #virgil sanders

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