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rik-mayall-owns-my-heart · 2 months

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Imagine Kevin asking you out

Kevin Turvey x GN!reader

Fluff!

Warnings: Slight angst

Summary: Part 2 of the imagine of Kevin working up the nerve to ask you out, where in this one he finally does it.

(Gif not mine, credit goes to whoever made it)

Kevin's head was swimming with thoughts as he made his way to your place, a mixture of anticipation and fear bubbling into an overwhelming sensation in his stomach.

The closer he's getting to your house, the more his nerves are building up. Despite such intense feelings however, he never thought once to turn around or flake out on this "mission", as he calls it. No, he couldn't do that, not now, especially since he felt so deeply of you and wanted to know if you felt even a fraction of what he felt. He's experienced too many sleepless nights and investigations where he could barely concentrate on the subject matter since his thoughts would inevitably drift to you.

Right now the effect you had on him was incredible, for once he was able to keep a coherent thought on something without getting sidetracked onto other irrelevant topics that'd lead him to sidetrack into even more irrelevant topics until completely losing his original point all together.

Not this time however. His determination to let his feelings be known kept him hyper focused on you and you alone.

The walk to your house felt both like an eternity and unbelievably quick all at once. A mixture of nerves and dread swirling in his chest.

Then, as if a dark cloud had formed out of thin air, a mortifying thought had crept it's way into his head as he approached your house, what if you not only reject him but you find the idea of him being your boyfriend absolutely revolting? Being friends? Yeah, sure but romantic partners? Yuck!

The thought makes him stop dead in his tracks, his blood turning into ice as he tenses up, making him freeze coincidentally directly at the beginning of the walkway to your door, rubbing his palms nervously over the outer thighs of his pant legs. His eyes widen a bit as he stares off in horrified thought, the dread was almost too much for him as he contemplated even continuing down the walkway at all.

'I can't do this' was all he thought before turning on his heel to head home. And as luck would have it, the second he turned away from your house, he heard the front door open, prompting his head to swivel toward the door once more and much to his dismay, it was you.

"Oh, hi Kevin!" You greeted him in a cheerful tone and with that same smile that caused his heart to skip a beat. He couldn't help but notice you had a certain pep in your step anytime you'd make your way toward him. Which Kevin couldn't help but find absolutely charming.

"Oh, um 'ello there Y/n. Fancy meeting you 'ere in front of your...'ouse" He greeted you, head slightly hung low, a hand placed on his hip and shoulders swinging slightly back and forth a bit as his other hand gestured towards your home. You however couldn't help but notice that he was avoiding eye contact with you, preferring to set his sights on the ground below

"Um, yeah, I 'spose so. What brings you all the way over here? Let me guess, couldn't stand to be away from me, huh?" You jest, playfully poking a finger into his shoulder.

'Oh god, this is gonna be impossible' Kevin thinks to himself, his eyes fall onto you once more before speaking "Y-yes, I mean no! No I do like spending time with you but I'm not like, well, you know, counting down the minutes until I see you again or anything. Not that I'd not look forward to seeing you again but I'm not like obsessive over it, right and-"

"Kevin" you managed to halt his ramblings, placing a hand on his arm, which stops him in his tracks.

"Is there something the matter? You seem rather nervous today. Is everything alright?" You ask softly, your hand giving his arm a gentle squeeze.

Kevin sighs, his jaw clenches and lips pierce as he takes a moment to pluck up the courage he had on his way here, his nerves flaring up once more but he manages to push them aside before speaking to you.

"Y/n, I have like, something to confess, right and I've thought long and hard about it for a while now, and I don't think I can keep it inside me-self much longer."

"Go on" you urge him softly. And with that, new found courage had prompted him to simply go for it, to take that leap of faith.

"Well, you see. I like you, a lot. As in more than a friend, much more in fact. One of my favorite things in the world is spending time with you and bringing you along with me when i need help with any of my investigations. Crikey, even if we do nothing but lay about in my room, listening to records and talking about anything that comes to our minds all day, I could spend ages and ages with you just doing that, as long as it's with you I'd be happy just about anywhere in the world doing just about anything. Of course, except scuba diving or exploring the edge of a volcano or anything that could cause you harm, basically. Or anything that can make you unhappy. As long as we're together and safe, as long as YOU'RE safe and happy. I'll be more than alright."

Kevin's confession was so sincere and heartfelt If not a little long winded but you didn't care, if anything it made it that much sweeter to you because it was exactly like him. You couldn't help the expression that adorned your features. Your heart swelled in the most wonderful way possible, a mixture of relief and absolute joy swirling inside of your chest.

The hand you had on his arm travels down and takes his hand into your own, a gesture he happily reciprocates.

"I can't believe you feel the same way for me like I do for you." Your voice is barely above a whisper, disbelief and tenderness laced in your words.

"You do?" He asks softly, meeting your gaze. "Do you really mean that?"

"Of course I do! I've liked you more than just a friend for such a long time now, Kevin. You have no idea how much I've dreamt of this moment. And never in a million years did I think you could ever like me back. I feel like I'm dreaming but if so, I hope I never wake up" you grin.

Your words spark a bout of courage within him that prompts him to go even further.

"C-can I um" Kevin takes your other hand in his and gives both your hands a soft squeeze.

"Can I kiss you?" He finally asks you.

"Please" you whisper.

With that, Kevin leans in and places his soft lips onto yours in a delicate kiss. The moment his lips touch yours, he feels like his heart is doing flips in his chest and his head is spinning, as is yours.

Once he pulls away he pulls you into a hug and the both of you bask in each other's embrace for goodness knows how long before Kevin speaks again.

"Y/n?"

"Hm?" You answer, your eyes closed and lips formed into a small smile.

"Will you go with me to see a movie tonight, as in like a date, a proper date."

You smile "I'll go anywhere with you, Kevin."

"Great" is all he says.

Neither of you can say just how long you two stayed there in each other's arms but eventually you were the one to break away first.

"Why don't we go right now?" You ask. "Then afterwards we can go to the mall and walk around and whatnot or we can go to that one playground nobody ever uses and just sit and chat."

Kevin gazes off to the side in thought and couldn't think of a reason why they couldn't go right then, either.

"Right, off we go then." Kevin offers you an arm to which you loop your arm through his and the both of you make your way to the bus stop.

"Mick is 'aving a couple of his mates over for cards this afternoon anyways and I wasn't looking forward to listening to their wee brained conversations."

#kevin turvey #kevin turvey imagine #kevin turvey x reader #kevin turvey x you #kevin turvey fanfiction #kevin turvey the man behind the green door #kevin turvey investigates #rik mayall #rik mayall x reader #rik mayall x you #rik mayall imagine #rik mayall fanfiction #kevin turvey fanfic #rik mayall fanfic

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broken-clover · 5 months

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SolAxl Week(ish)- Day 6

Not only late but skipping a prompt! I do intend to come back to it, it's just that the plot kinda spiraled out of control so if I want to consider finishing this thing in less than a month or more I better just step around the mess and come back to it.

Also going back to being typical of me. Tis simply how I do. I did take partial inspiration from the respiratory infection I got over the original ship week that made it too difficult to have everything done on time. Idk for some reason I just found it funny

6- Ghost Hunter AU, Sick Day, Drinking Together

Soup. Soup was supposed to be good for this kinda thing, wasn’t it? Probably not all that much, honestly, but one of those things that made people feel like it was?

(Whatever. It hadn’t been his area of expertise, even before. As he’d often scoff to his relatives as they clamored for his advice, he wasn’t that kind of doctor.)

Swiftly growing frustrated from staring at shelves, Sol simply grabbed a handful of basics and dumped them on the checkout counter. For what it was worth, the cashier only flinched a little at the sight and sound of him barging up.

“Find everything okay today, mister?”

Sol grunted. “Jus’ getting the essentials.”

“Looks like. Feeling okay? Your voice sounds a little rough.”

“Nah. That’s just a century’s worth of smoking. Gettin’ em ‘cause he ain’t going out himself.”

“Ah, that totally makes sense, I’d- “ He watched her visibly process the statement. She opened her mouth to speak, but seemingly thought better of it. “Well, they’re lucky to have you. Cash or card?”

Something about this sorta thing still didn’t feel quite right. Sol Badguy didn’t do the ‘domestic’ schtick. He was supposed to be out slumming it in the woods and hunting bounties, not doing medicine cabinet runs. It didn’t matter how much he hated scrounging for his own food and not having access to running water, part of him still struggled to deal with this shift in environment. Oftentimes, Axl was one of the few things to make the transition feel a little less jarring, but, well…

Sol used his hands just enough to twist the handle before doing the rest with a hip. “Hey, you up?”

And not an inch moved since he’d left. Their old sofa currently housed a heap of frayed blue fabric in the vague, sad shape of a man. Or a sad great dane. Or, if he squinted, a sad small pony. Sol watched it shift around at the sound of his voice.

“M’back. Got the stuff for ya. Most of it, at least.” He rustled the bag. “Cherry was the kind you were allergic to, right?”

The heap shifted again. Sol grabbed a handful of blanket, and, once he was somewhat sure there wasn’t any hair attached, he tugged it up until a miserable-looking face peered back at him.

“Mornin’, princess. How ya feeling?”

“...’ucks, -ief.”

He understood it enough. “Yeah, I figure. Was gonna buy you a whiteboard or something, but they didn’t have anything. Can get a pen if you want.”

Axl tried to scowl at him, but as soon as his lips wrinkled, it sent him into another coughing fit. As gently as he could manage, Sol thumped him on the back until it subsided. He watched the man shudder and sink back into his blanket cocoon.

“Y’know I was serious, right?” Sol found a spot to squeeze himself in and sit. “Gonna be honest, I’m kinda thrown off by it. Never seen you this quiet ever. Can’t wait ‘til this thing clears out and you can talk my ear off again.”

“Hhhh.” He took a bag of cough drops as they were offered, tearing it open and stuffing a hand in. “‘anks.”

Meanwhile, Sol kept digging through the bag, pulling a can of beer for himself and juice for his couchmate. Axl sent him a funny look, but took it anyway, tossing a couple of cough drops in his mouth before taking a swig.

Spotting something as it poked out from the blanket folds, Sol gave it a few tugs before finding himself in possession of the television remote. “Huh. Let’s see if there’s something stupid on.”

That got him another weird look. “What, don’t wanna? Though it’d take your mind off things.”

No, that didn’t seem like it was it. He watched Axl try to form a reply, but all that came out were raspy half-words that didn’t make much sense. He gestured vaguely at Sol, still not making much of a comprehensible point.

“You wanna watch something specific…?” Asked Sol, continuing to absentmindedly channel-surf.

“No! -onna- “ Clearly growing frustrated at his lack of success, Axl yanked at his hair and shoved the other man’s shoulder. “Sick!” He gestured to himself.

“Yeah? I know you’re sick, dumbass…” Oh. “You worried about me?”

” -es!” It almost came out as a coherent word, and in exchange, back he went to coughing.

“Tch, well ain’t you sweet.” Sol pressed a warm hand against his partner’s back and kneaded the skin at the base of his neck. Nah, ‘m not worried. Gear, remember? Overclocked immune system.”

“Mmph…” Satisfied, but still annoyed, Axl pulled the blankets back over his head. He flopped against Sol and took another sip of juice.

The Gear continued on in his search until he found something suitably stupid-looking, some kinda slapstick public-access cartoon. With his free hand, he patted the top of Axl’s blanket cocoon. “Lucky you, means you can hang off me all ya want. Free pass.”

Though he expected Axl would immediately take the opportunity and latch on, for now he seemed completely content to use him as a leaning rock and a source of heat. Huh. That sick, then. As much as Sol liked to roll his eyes at Axl’s overly-energetic nature and nonstop chatter, he missed it sorely as soon as it was gone. He hoped it wouldn’t be much more than a few days longer, then Axl would go back to being the cheery nuisance that Sol knew and loved.

#frog writes #guilty gear #sol badguy #axl low #solaxl #solaxl week 2024 #sickfic

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alicewonderao3 · 10 months

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Mutual Pining

Title: Mutual Pining

Characters: Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Spencer Reid, fem!original character.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!original character

Warnings: None, fluffy. Use of fem!character, mentions of violence typical for criminal minds, Aaron has a nickname for her.

Summary: She's been pining after her gorgeous boss for a while now, and is unwilling to believe the older man might possibly return her feelings. What happens when she gets injured on a case, and he proves her wrong?

Authors note: So this is something I've had in my drafts for a long time now. I started writing it and just never had the motivation to finish it until today. I didn't realize I used one of the prompts for @the-slumberparty's naughty or nice challenge until after I'd edited the piece, so I'm submitting it at as well. I'm rewatching Criminal minds and working on a piece out of my wheelhouse, a soft!dark Aaron Hotchner. It's gonna be good. As always, I have no beta, and if I missed any warnings or tags, let me know, and all spelling and grammar mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2,553

Life can be cruel sometimes. It can be downright nasty, but right now, I can't help but curse life with all my being. I'm working at my desk, and I'm supposed to be studying crime scene photos and helping form the profile so we can catch this latest in a long line of bad, bad men, but I can't. How can I be expected to focus when Aaron's just standing over there, talking with Rossi about something, I'm not sure what, looking as gorgeous as he is?

It's a shame. I sigh, returning to my work when I see Rossi's eyes catch mine, watching me admire Aaron, and my cheeks flush and I duck my head, my dark curls hiding my face as I examine the crime scene photos with a sudden interest. The two walk by my desk, but say nothing. Rossi is the only one in the office who knows of my crush on Aaron, revealed one night when I arrived early at his house for a team dinner.

He's the only one who knows how much I like him, and admire him. He's told me to make my move several times, but it's hard. I don't know if Aaron even likes me in that way, let alone if he even notices me. Sometimes he tends to look right through people, with that single-minded determination he's got.

It's easy to like Aaron Hotchner. So easy. The man is gorgeous, and tall, with dark brown eyes and hair that is never out of place. And don't get me started on the suits he wears. They fit his muscled frame beautifully, and the man has no idea the effect he has on me by simply walking in. But it's not just looks. Aaron's funny, intelligent, and incredibly sweet.

There is a lot hidden under that cool reserve he has, that mask he uses to keep the world out. He keeps people at arm's length and has ever since Haley died. He keeps Jack close to him, and I can't help but adore the little boy. After his dad, I'm his obvious favorite, and he loves hanging with me at my desk. I keep a special drawer in my desk just for Jack, full of dinosaurs and his favorite snacks, plenty of crayons and coloring sheets, and books.

I sigh again, glancing down at the crime scene photos with a wince. I should be working, not here daydreaming about my older, but attractive boss, but he doesn't make it easy for me. Lucky for me, he's also completely oblivious to my feelings. Or how women view him in general. He hasn't dated anyone since he broke up with Beth a few months ago.

I glance up as I feel a pair of eyes on me and see it's Aaron, standing outside his office, looking over the bullpen. I know he's making sure we're making progress, and his eyes catch mine for a moment, making my heart skip a beat and my breath catch. I look up at him, sending him a warm smile, one which he returns, to my delight.

He wanders back into his office, and I sigh. I jump when I hear Rossi's voice. "When are you going to tell him how you feel?" I sigh, fidgeting with my fingers for a moment. "I don't know. I don't even know how he feels," Rossi sighs again, his voice frustrated. "You won't know until you talk to him, you know. Maybe he returns your feelings?"

I sigh, but there's something about Rossi's remark that catches me off guard. "Wait, what do you know?" I asked him, and he just shook his head. "Uh-huh, flower. If you wanna know, you go ask him. Better yet, tomorrow is casual Friday. Wear that pink sundress you wore to the last team dinner."

He walks off and I watch him, shaking my head. Flower was Aaron's nickname for me. It was only his nickname for me. He did have sort of a soft spot for me, although I insisted he didn't treat me any differently than the other agents. He was the only one who was allowed to use it in regards to me and everyone knew it.

Morgan had nicknames for everyone but me, and when he'd innocently called me flower, hearing Aaron do it, was the last time he'd used it. Aaron had turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow. He didn't speak or ask any questions. Morgan held his hands up and never called me that again, but he did tease me about being the only agent allowed to call Hotch by his first name.

I decided to take Rossi's advice and showed up for casual Friday wearing said dress. It was a soft pink color, with tiny white flowers scattered on the fabric. It was modest enough for work while still hugging my curves, my leg poking out of the slit as I walked through the office. I couldn't wear the pink heels I'd worn at the team dinner with this outfit, but I wore pink Converse instead. My dark curls were loose, pulled back in a half-ponytail with a flowery clip.

Aaron was standing outside his office, observing the agents as we all arrived and his eyes met mine. I could have sworn I saw something in his eyes as he saw me, but it was gone. I smiled warmly up at him, and I wasn't surprised when Rossi handed me some files to go drop off to him.

I knocked softly and walked in, meeting his eyes. "Good morning, Aaron," I said softly, my voice warm and gentle. His eyes met mine and I saw his face relax. "Good morning, Flower." My smile got wider as I walked in, setting the files on his desk. "Rossi asked me to give these to you."

He nodded at me, and said, "Thank you, flower." He picked one up and it was a clear dismissal. I nodded and left his office. Rossi met my eyes and said, "Well?" I shrugged my shoulders. "I gave him the files," I said softly.

I walked away as Rossi shook his head. Then he caught my attention. "Hey, Alice?" I turned to face him. "Spencer needs help with that profile, help him will you?" I nodded.

I spent the morning in one of the conference rooms with Spencer helping him. My soft laughter and giggles filtered out into the hallway and bullpen as we worked. I enjoyed working with Spencer. We liked a lot of the same things and had the same sense of humor. He always made me laugh. I may have missed the way Aaron would stare extra hard when Spencer made me laugh, but Rossi hadn't although I didn't realize this at the time.

Spencer was in the middle of telling me a joke when we heard a throat being cleared. I was facing him, and my eyes were fixed on Spencer's as I looked up at him, my small hand on his arm as he made me giggle, and we both turned to see Aaron standing in the doorway. He had his arms crossed. "Sounds like more giggling in here than actual work." His voice was tight, almost as if he was restraining himself.

"Sorry, Hotch." Spencer said, "We're working." He said, gesturing to the whiteboard. I nodded, my dark curls bouncing. "Yeah. He was just telling me a funny joke." I said, "We are working, Aaron, I promise." I missed the way Aaron relaxed at my words, missed the way his eyes softened as he looked at me, but Spencer didn't.

The team loved to tease me about Aaron's supposed soft spot for me. I said they were crazy. They begged to differ. Spencer's grin got wider a moment and then he casually draped his arms over my shoulders, his hands brushing my sides, making me giggle again. "Spencer!" I said, slipping from him.

I missed the way Aaron's eyes darkened as Spencer's arms slipped over my shoulders, and even more so when I'd darted away and giggled. All I heard was Aaron's voice sharp, as he raised it in my direction for the first time. "Alice, there is a time for laughing and now is not it." He said, and his tone took me by surprise. My whole face fell, but I schooled it.

My voice was softer, subdued. "I'm sorry Aaron," I said, and he just turned on his heel and left, leaving me alone with Spencer, wondering what I did wrong. I helped Spencer with the profile and took it to Aaron later, my voice hesitant, as I set it on his desk. "I have that profile for you," I said, meeting his eyes.

He didn't even look up at me at first, and when he did, his voice was tight, as if he was restraining himself. "Thank you." It was only two words, but the way he said them made my heart sink and my stomach twist. Was he mad at me? I had to know, so I asked. "Aaron?" I asked, my voice soft.

He looked up at me, where I stood in front of his desk, my small hands twisting together, shifting my weight from foot to foot in my soft pink dress and I asked, "Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?" My warm honey-brown eyes were locked onto his and I saw him set the profile down, his whole expression softening at the panicked look I'm sure I was wearing.

"No, Flower. I'm not mad at you." He said, his voice gentle, as he stood up, taking one of my hands in his. "I was just disappointed to hear you and Spencer fooling around." He said, and his choice of words made me pause. "We weren't fooling around," I said, confused as I met his eyes. "Spencer was just telling me jokes and picking on me," I said, my head tilting as I looked up at him.

"Well," He said, as he stared down at me. "Didn't seem that way," He said, as he patted my small hand softly. "Now that you've helped Spencer, why don't you-" but he was cut off when Rossi came back in, saying we had a lead on the suspect. Garcia figured out which bar he was getting his girls from and Morgan made the suggestion someone go in as bait.

Everyone's eyes turned to me at once. "What?" I said, meeting their gazes, before realizing what they meant. Aaron was the only one who was against it until Rossi pointed out that it was our only means of catching him. And that's how I found myself at the bar, wearing my communication device and fielding the advances of several men.

The whole time I could hear Aaron's almost tight tone in my ear, "Move away from those men, you need to seem available to the unsub." He says, and I hear the controlled giggles of a few team members at his tone. I slip down the bar and this time when I'm approached, I know it's our unsub. He's charming as he flirts with me, his eyes focused on mine, as he carefully reaches out to tuck my curls behind my ear.

We know his MO is to drug his victims, to get them out of the bar, and so when I set my drink down and turn for the briefest second, I know he's drugged it when I hear that frustrated sound leave Aaron's throat, followed by, "Do not drink that, flower. Get him to take you out near the alley, we're waiting."

I do a good job of pretending I'm drugged, but instead of taking me to the alley behind the bar, he steers me out front, toward the white van waiting across the street. I can hear the team as they scramble to make their way around, and all pretenses dropped, I struggle in his hold, as tight as it is.

He shoves me into a wall, my cheek scraping against the hard brick as he kicks my feet apart, and when his hand covers my mouth to attempt to silence my screams, I bite him, prompting him to shove me harder into the wall, turning me around to slap me just as the team rounds the corner and finds us.

He's taken with brutal force after he's shoved me forward and into Aaron's waiting arms. My cheek is bleeding as Aaron's large hands cup my face, his concerned brown eyes meeting mine ."Are you okay, flower?" He asks, his thumbs gentle as he turns my face this way and that, examining it.

I nod, "Just my cheek," I murmur, and I see his expression grow concerned as he pulls me to the side, bandaging me himself. "How did that happen?" He asked gently, and I saw him tense as I told him how he shoved me into the brick wall. His hands are gentle as he patches me up, and I can't help but say, "Have a lot of practice patching up Jack huh?"

He laughs, the sound soft and gentle. "Yeah, he's always scraping his knee." He says, as he gently cleans my scrape and places a bandage over the scrape. His eyes focus on mine as he sighs. "There, all better." He says, his finger lingering on my cheek.

I don't know what prompts me, but the words leave me before I think them over, my cheeks flushing, "Kiss it better?" I see him tense, his eyes searching mine for something before he nods, leaning in close to me as my heart races in my chest, his lips gently brushing over the bandage. I'm breathing a bit heavily as he pulls back a little.

His voice is husky, "Better?" I shake my head, my curls fluttering along my cheeks with my movements. "Again?" I ask, my eyes soft and voice pleading, as his hand gently cups my face. "One more time," He says, and this time he leans in, his lips brushing across mine with a tenderness I'd never seen from him before. His kiss is soft and gentle, my heart racing in my chest as he kisses me like I'm the most important person in the world to him, our surroundings melting away as he kisses me.

We're interrupted mid-kiss by the catcalls of the team as they catch us, and my cheeks flush as we both pull away from each other. I can see the faint blush on Aaron's cheeks as we hear the team teasing us. Rossi walks up and claps a hand on his shoulder. "I knew you'd do it sooner or later, Aaron." He winks at me as he walks away, and I realize that the team was indeed right. He did have a soft spot for me.

Aaron's fingers are gentle on my face as he promises, "We'll do that again later, without witnesses, flower." And it's the husky quality of his voice, the gentleness of his touch, that makes my heart skip a beat as I can't wait for later. Later, which comes in his office when we make it back to the mission, as his lips find mine again, and the door closing so we have no witnesses this time.

#aaron hotchner 💞#thomas gibson #criminal minds #navy and roo sleepover #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x oc female character #mutual pining

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frknchrldr · 2 years

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@hellcheerweek day 6: horror xover prompt

Long sharp talons run across a row of lockers. Chrissy screams as loud as she can, feeling the shriek deep in her bones. She runs down the hallway until she trips.

“Its time Grace…”

“No no stay away!”

She’s sobbing now, as big fat tears run down her cheek.

The creature continues to stalk towards her a grim smile.

“Cut!!!”

“Good job. Henry, we have a solo scene with you next.”

“Got it. Can I get a coffee real quick?” The man, in full monster make-up says to an assistant.

“Chrissy head to hair and make-up. We have Corroded Coffin for two days, were gonna do the first parts of your death scene today then the full scene tomorrow."

“Corroded Coffin?” She says heart skips a beat.

“Yeah the band for the scene?” The director clarifies.

“Right of course.”

She knew when she got the part that her big death scene would be just outside of a concert, she would run through begging for help but no one else would be able to see the monster stalking her. Then said monster would make her see everyone, including the band, massacred.

The studio hadn't told her who the band would be, she was pretty sure they didn't know when the project started, just whoever was big and could fit it in their schedules.

Honestly she hadn't thought about the band, much more focused on getting her lines right and impressing the director, a horror legend.

This movie was a big deal for her. Much more professional than the slasher she was last in, she had almost lost that job because she refused to take her shirt off but luckily they worked around it and just killed her off earlier than originally planned. Honestly, she was glad. She had heard that another girl got hypothermia while filming in the lake.

No this film had a lot bigger budget and the creators involved cared a lot more about makign a good film than having a party.

Pacing the small space of her trailer she thinks of her options. She’s already done hair and make up, but still has some time to kill before her scene with the band, Corroded Coffin.

She was going to see Eddie Munson, her ex-boyfriend, for the first time in six years.

Part of her is thrilled to see him again. She hadnt reallized, hadnt let her self really, how much she missed him. They spent one great summer together after high school but went their separate ways, both with big dreams they had to pursue on their own.

Despite being heartbroken there were thankfully no hard feelings, so she at least didn't have to worry about that. The quickened pace of her heart and sweaty palms, however were a problem.

There was also the reaction of the band itself. She was pretty sure Eddie would be able to play off seeing her again but the rest of the band, if they were still the same line up from back then. Which knowing Eddie's loyalty she assumed they were. Yeah they were not nearly as good at playing it cool. Especially Grant, she can just imagine the open mouth stare of shock he'll have when he see’s her.

That makes her decision. She needs to nip this in the bud and meet them before they start the scene. Leaving her trailer she finds an AD, grateful to find out that they're already here and waiting in their own trailer.

***

Eddie sits on the couch of their trailer with the other guys waiting for the director to call them on set.

It's all so surreal. Its only been about a year and half since they really got big.

One moment they're recording an EP in a shitty studio with poor quality equipment, the next they're being picked up by one of the biggest rock labels out there, with their songs being played on the radio constantly.

The whole movie thing came as a shock. Their manager brought it up and well, being huge horror fans they weren't going to pass up a chance to work with one of the best directors in the genre. Besides the scene they were gonna be in sounded pretty cool. He always wanted to get covered in fake blood.

They just got off tour last week and between that and going straight to the studio to record another album they haven't had a lot of time to learn very much about the project. Thankfully they didnt have any real lines other than normal stuff they say at a concert.

So they had no idea who was starring in it and who they’d be working with. The guys had been arguing about who it could be, what Hollywood starlet they hoped to be meeting today.

Eddie ignored them; he didn't really care. Unlike the rest of the band he hadn't really lived up to the rockstar moniker.

He dated here and there, he wasn't a monk or anything, but well it was hard to get excited about women when he'd already been with the best one out there. Though he very rarely allowed himself to think about her. Unless he was writing, she did make an excellent muse.

There's a knock on the door and they quiet down thinking it's time to get started.

Instead the giant bouncer the studio put outside their trailer (fans had been getting a little wild recently) pops his head in.

“One of the actresses is outside, says she’s your oldest fan?”

“Is she hot?” Gareth asks, Eddie rolls his eyes.

The bouncer nods.

"Well bring her in then!"

A moment later she walks in and it feels like he's been hit by an eighteen wheeler.

The rest of the guys gasp in shock. Grant has that stupid face he wears when hes surpised. Eyes bugged out, mouth open. Eddie has to bite his tongue to not do the same thing.

Chrissy fucking Cunnigham is standing in front of him a wide grin on her face.

Suddenly every memory from that summer, every gushy song lyric he's written comes flying to the surface.

"Holy shit" he says under his breath.

She giggles and he can't believe he's lived so long without hearing that perfect sound again.

"It's nice to see you too Eddie"

"Sorry yeah. You look amazing Cunningham." She really does.

"So do you Mr. Rockstar." That thousand watt smile firmly in place.

They just stare at each other with moon eyes.

Then he hears one of the guys groan and say. "Here we go again."

Chrissy laughs, Eddie flips them off.

They're not wrong though. Now that he's seeing her again he's going to make damn sure he doesn't lose her again. Not if he can help it.

#hellcheer #eddie x chrissy #eddissy #hellcheerweek #sorry late again

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maarchalk · 8 hours

Text

Inktober Tips

What is Inktober (skip this if you already know) I've never really been on a social media site where I get to write down my actual thoughts about inktober. I've been doing Inktober properly for a few years now and I made a few small attempts before that. Tips that I'm about to share here might be relevant for other art challenges as well. Inktober is of course a yearly art challenge where thousands of artist across the globe make an ink drawing for every day of inktober. But in my book any physical media is ok. The original challenge also had a stipulation about not sketching anything, this is also alright in my book. Anyone who tells you you're not doing it properly if you're not using exclusively ink without a sketch is a [slur of choice]. All of these artist follow the same prompt list, though in the last few years some alternate prompt lists have showed up. These prompts have showed up because of some scandall that I don't really remember. Me and some fellow artists that were also doing it decided back then to keep following the "official" prompt list, but if you want to do another one that's all good.

The only thing you should remember about all of this is that Inktober is all about getting into the habit of drawing daily and doing a decent job. Everyone is gonna be posting stuff of different quality and that's ok because we're all developing at a different rate.

Getting started with Inktober So how do you actually go about starting with Inktober? The first thing you should do is set an incredibly low bar for yourself. Inktober is long and if you're not with friends it's incredibly difficult to get motivated. Therefore you should be choosing your own pace, and to begin this pace should be incredibly low. For your very first inktober I recommend to get a small sketchbook or loose collection of pages of any size and mark out 31 days on the pages. In the beginning of the sketchbook you should write all of the prompts that month, that way you never have to look them up on your phone where you might get distracted. You can include the prompt on the page of the day if you want. That way you'll always know. My very first Inktober that I followed for almost the entire month was in 2018 and consisted of just two A4's with only 27 of the 31 prompts completed. And as you will see in the image below, several irrelevant doodles cluttered the pages as well. I started this Inktober run on the 5th so don't worry if you think you've missed the start date, just get a sketchbook and get going! Even today, a week from the end is a valid starting date if you only wanna do it for a week.

Following the prompt If you're doing Inktober remember this one thing, we're not chatgpt or some other image generator, we're artists! This means that unlike a computer we can actually creatively handle a prompt. If you're not sure what to draw at first glance, try approaching it from a different angle.

Experiment with the word, adding a B to the front of the prompt Ridge may give you the idea to put a Bridge on a Ridge, or something like that.

If you're a multilingual person or a non-english-native, try interpreting the prompt in your mother-tongue or any other language. If you're travelling or something it can also be fun to relate the prompt to your surroundings. Also on two seperate inktobers I related my inktober to the fact that I had a wisdom tooth removed that very day.

Also if you think you've got a physical item around you that you can draw to follow the prompt, go for it! These are especially fun to do without the sketch, but you can still include the sketch if you want.

Low effort Inktobers

Some days you're gonna be tired or not really feel like doing the prompt. It might have been a long day, it might be 5 minutes before midnight, hell it can even be two in the morning or the next day! The most important thing to do on these days is to put literally anything on the page! I call these the Low-Effort-Inktobers. They can either be the worst thing you've ever made or you can end up starting to enjoy it an make a friggin masterpiece! As I've mentioned, Inktober is all about keeping up the work, no matter what. And by anything I literally mean anything! Here are some Low-Effort-Inktobers!

Conclusion

Anyway Inktober is a fun art challenge that creates good habits! If you're still in doubt of getting started let me motivate you by showing some of mine. I'll show three from every year I've done, the very best, the very worst and an Inktober that is just average. I won't mention which is which cause I'm sure people would disagree with me. I hope it's gonna show a nice progression over the years! Remember if you're gonna start, only look at the first two or three, set the bar low! And feel free to show me your Inktobers! I wanna see more people show this kind of progression cause I find that interesting! 2019

2020

2021

2022 This is the year where I switched to giving every day it's own A4, the jump in quality is incredible.

2023

2024 Obviously Inktober is still running this year but here are some of mine.

#inktober2018 #inktober challenge #inktober #art advice #inktober 2019 #inktober2020 #inktober 2021 #inktober 2022 #inktober 2023 #inktober 2024

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specialagentsergio · 3 years

Text

hands to myself

summary: You and Spencer have just confessed your feelings for each other. And now, he simply can’t keep his hands off of you.

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

category: smut, 18+ (minors DNI)

content warnings: swearing, dirty talk, making out, heavy petting, fingering, hand job, lil bit of overstimulation, penetrative sex, protected sex (no glove no love y’all), lmk if i missed anything.

a/n: this is a companion to my fic side effects may vary, but can be read as a standalone. enjoy!

a/n 2: just a quick reminder, in case you missed it above—the original fic is gender neutral reader, but this is female reader.

word count: 2.3k

song: hands to myself by selena gomez

masterlist

You lift your head from his chest and look him in the eyes. “Kiss me again.”

Spencer does. He can hardly believe this is real. Yesterday he was waking up in his own bed, alone and grumpy about having to get up. Today he’s in your bed after spending the night with you. You confessed your feelings to him just moments ago, feelings that he was thrilled to inform you that he shared. And now, he’s kissing you.

You pull back eventually, and he’s about to complain, but then notices how loose the shirt you’ve slept in is. With the way you’re leaning over him, it gives him a great view right down it. He quickly looks away, but it’s already burned into his mind.

You adjust positions slightly, pulling your legs up under you to kneel at his side, then lean back down to resume kissing him. He keeps one hand on the back of your neck, but the other wanders; it eventually comes to a stop right under your breast.

You tilt your head, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You can touch, Spencer,” you murmur.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He immediately starts feeling you up through your shirt, then thinks better of it and moves his hand underneath the fabric. He’s so caught up in exploring what may possibly be the best pair of tits he’s ever had the privilege of touching that he doesn’t notice your hand descending his body until it’s at the waistband of his underwear.

Your eyes flick up to his, asking for permission; the way your pupils are dilated makes his heart skip a beat. There’s no denying he’d love your hand on his cock, but he still says, “Wait.”

You slide your hand away and to his waist. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing’s wrong,” he says breathlessly. “I’m enjoying this. But I realize there’s a sort of… societal expectation for women to…”

“Put out?” you offer.

He wrinkles his nose. “I hate that phrase. But yes.” He pushes a strand of hair out of your face. “I just want to tell you that it’s okay if you don’t want to, you know… go all the way right now.”

“Oh, I want to,” you answer right away. Your nails dig into his side a little. “You have no idea how much I’ve been fantasizing about you lately.”

Spencer inhales sharply. “Christ, (Y/N).”

“But likewise,” you continue, as if you didn’t just cause his brain to explode with one sentence. “If you don’t want to do this right now, we can wait.”

He doesn’t answer with words; instead, he pulls you back down into a passionate kiss.

“I’ll take that as a yes to me touching your cock,” you murmur against his lips.

“God, yes,” he corrects.

He had taken off his pants to sleep last night, so you have easy access to his dick. You push his briefs down his hips and take him in your hand. He can’t stop the groan that leaves his mouth. You take a moment to glance down and run your hand every which way across it, getting familiar with it.

“Your cock looks even better than I imagined,” you mutter as you begin to jerk him off.

Spencer throws his head back against the pillows. “Well, I definitely feel a lot less guilty for jacking off to thoughts of you now.”

You smile. “You got yourself off thinking of me?”

“More often than I’d like to say,” he admits. “But from the sound of it, I wasn’t the only one.”

“No, not at all. What would you think about?”

It’s then that he notices you grinding down on the heel of your foot. He’s had a hand on your ass, and slides it forward now, replacing your heel with his hand. “I thought about doing this,” he says, rubbing his hand up and down over your clothed pussy. “More than this, too.”

“Tell me. No, wait,” you correct. “Show me.”

He doesn’t oblige right away; instead he latches his lips to the skin right above your collarbone and sucks hard enough to leave a mark. The corners of his mouth turn up when he feels you squirm against his hand. “I’d love to,” he finally says.

Deftly, his hand moves past the waistband of your panties, past fabric, skin and hair. “Lovely,” he murmurs when he feels the wetness gathering at your entrance. The pace you’re rubbing his cock at falters a bit when he slides a finger inside. A second finger quickly follows, then he matches your movements, thrusting his fingers into you when your hand moves down his cock; pulling them out when you stroke up. He relishes in the moan you let out when he crooks his fingers to hit that spot.

“Oh, fuck, that’s so good,” you breathe out.

With his free hand, he pulls down your panties so he can watch his fingers glide in and out of you. “Contrary to what my coworkers think, I have done this before,” he murmurs.

“Doesn’t surprise me at all.” You pause in your strokes to play with the head of his cock, prompting a moan of his own. “You’re so pretty. I’m surprised more people don’t throw themselves at you.”

He shrugs. “It’s the social ineptitude, I believe.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re—oh shit,” you gasp. He’s just adjusted so the heel of his hand is grinding against your clit on each thrust of his fingers into you.

This goes on for a few more minutes, the room filled with the sound of heavy breathing, gasps, and moans. Suddenly, you stop stroking his cock. He pulls back from kissing you and looks at you questioningly.

“I want you,” you whisper.

Spencer frowns a little. “You have me? My fingers are literally inside of you.”

“I meant I want your cock,” you laugh. “I’d really like to fuck you.”

He didn’t think it was possible for his dick to get any harder, and yet…. “I’d really like that, too.”

He removes his fingers from you rather reluctantly. You cup his face in your hands, giving him a passionate kiss before moving away from him, and he wonders briefly what to do with himself as you root around in the bedside table, but the answer quickly occurs to him. When you turn back to him with a condom in hand, he’s popped his fingers into his mouth and is sucking on them.

“Oh, Jesus,” you murmur. He just smiles around his fingers, holding out his other hand for the condom. But he does, unfortunately, need two hands to open it. After taking his underwear off all the way, he uses his wet fingers to stroke his cock a few times, then rolls the condom on.

He’s about to ask what position you’d prefer, but you answer it for him, moving to straddle his hips after tossing your panties aside. You pull his shirt off of him, then take off your own. He immediately fixates on your breasts again, placing his hands on your waist and tugging your closer so he can take one into his mouth.

“You really like my boobs, huh?” you ask.

He hums an agreement against your skin. “I mean, I really like all of you. But I’m particularly fond of these.”

He keeps at it until you let out a little whine, rolling your hips against his erection. “Spencer, please.”

“Alright, alright,” he relents. He places one kiss on each breast, then leans back.

You smile in excitement, wiggling your hips a little. You take his cock in your hand and run the tip through your folds. “You ready?”

He nods. “I’m ready.”

You line him up, then sink down onto him. He’s done a good job getting you ready; his cock slides in easily. You both let out sighs of relief and pleasure when he’s fully inside you. You lean forward slightly, gripping the headboard. “God, you feel so good,” you say breathlessly.

All he can do is make an affirmative noise, overcome with the pleasure of being inside of you. You feel perfect. “Y—yeah, you… you too,” he manages to get out.

It makes you laugh. “And they say romance is dead.”

After some deliberation, he settles on putting his hands on your hips. “Who says that?”

“It’s just a figure of speech.” You press a few soft kisses on his lips, then begin to move. You take it slow at first, lifting yourself up, then dropping back down. It takes him a moment to get accustomed to it, but when he does, he adjusts his legs so he can lift his hips up to meet yours on each stroke.

“I realize I didn’t express my thoughts very well,” he says, pulling your chest down against his so he can whisper into your ear. “So just to be clear, your pussy feels fucking amazing.”

“Fuck,” you gasp. You press your forehead against his and he follows your gaze to between your legs. The sight of his cock sliding in and out of you makes him groan.

“Yeah,” you agree. “It’s a good view.”

Some of your hair has fallen into his face; his pushes it to the side so he can see better. It’s an intoxicating sight, even more so when he starts fucking up into you faster.

You brace yourself with a hand on his chest. “Your cock… it feels like it was made just for me,” you pant.

“Mmhmm,” he agrees. “It’s… oh, I’m close.”

The side of your mouth turns up. “Already?” you tease.

“It’s the first time I’ve fucked you,” he protests. “I’ve been thinking about this for months. Of course I’m not going to last as long as usual.”

He may be feeling his orgasm approach, but Spencer hasn’t forgotten about you. He slides a hand down to where your bodies are joined, gathers some of the wetness there, and uses it to rub your clit.

“Oh, Spencer, yes,” you praise, and start bouncing on his dick faster.

In general, Spencer prefers for his partner to come before he does, but he doesn’t think he’s going to make it this time. Your skin is covered in a light sweat and your hair is messy, and it’s so… charming. Naked on top of him, he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked more beautiful.

“I’m gonna cum, baby.” The pet name slips out of his mouth on its own.

Your hand finds its way to his hair—you tug—and he’s gone. He thrusts up into you sloppily as he cums, moaning your name loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

“Your ‘o’ face is so hot,” you say when he’s come down and is able to look into your eyes again.

“My what?”

“The ‘o face’ refers to the expression someone has when they orgasm,” you explain. “Yours is really hot.” Then your bottom lip drops out in a little pout, a clear contrast to your words. You grind down on him just a little and it clicks into place. His thumb had stopped moving on your clit when he came, and now you’re left without release.

He goes back to it rubbing your clit immediately, so suddenly that it startles you. “Spencer!” you yelp.

His free hand slides up the expanse of your back. “I’ve got you. Gonna make sure you cum, too.”

“Please,” you whimper. His dick is still inside you, and the little rocking movements you’re making cause a little overstimulation, but the condom helps and the way you clench around him every few seconds… he couldn’t pull out even if he wanted to.

Your hand grasps his; you move his fingers around a little, showing him exactly how you like it. And when he gets it right--

“Oh, shit. That’s it, Spence. That’s it. Don’t stop.”

He kisses your neck as he does just what you say—he doesn’t stop.

Shortly you’re gasping out against the skin of his shoulder. “I’m gonna—I’m gonna--”

You throw your head back as you cum. The rhythmic contractions of your pussy around his cock makes it twitch inside of you. If he wasn’t still in his refractory period, that alone could make him hard.

“There you go,” he murmurs. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

You settle down completely against him, chest to chest, and he listens as you catch your breath. “Thank you. Not everyone… well, every man, will do that.”

“I’ll always finish you off,” he promises, and presses a kiss to your cheek.

You lay there together for five blissful minutes, running fingers across each other’s bodies and whispering sweet nothings. But then you push yourself up with a huff. Naturally, Spencer immediately protests. “Where are you going?”

“Gotta go pee,” you say with a shrug. “The chance of a UTI trumps cuddling with you right now. Sorry.”

“Well. Understandable,” he concedes. He watches his now-soft dick slide out of you as you get up; it’s rather captivating. He starts cleaning himself up as you walk off towards the bathroom, carefully rolling the condom off and tying it off.

“Spencer.”

He looks up. You’re standing in the bathroom doorway. “Yes?”

“You know how earlier I said I had been trying to get you into my bed for weeks?” you ask. “And I said that I didn’t mean it that way?”

“I do.”

“Well, that was only half true.”

The side of his mouth turns up. “Clearly.”

Your little bashful smile makes his heart flutter. But then you say, “You should thank your psychiatrist the next time you see her. You know, for prescribing you a medication that made you fall asleep, and subsequently led to you getting laid.”

Heat rises to his cheeks. He clears his throat before speaking. “You know, I think I’ll keep that to myself.”

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

tell me what you thought here!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #smut #my fic #not sfw #minors dni #the 'no glove no love' is a joke i actually do not like how condoms feel personally #but seriously practice safe sex y'all

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callemreine · 3 years

Text

Heart-Shaped

I should warn you that this was not proofread at all but I just had to post it cuz I said I was gonna do it but then I got distracted by a million other things so it took a long time and there's this au august by @/tsshipmonth2020 next month and I wanna do a few of the prompts there so have this poorly written oneshot that was based on this post by @aplethoraofquotes

Ship: Prinxiety(I mean what else do you expect from me) and a little bit of implied logicality

Word Count: 2017

cw: caps / mention of something on fire / tentacles mention / swearing (just one)

“WHAT IS UP EVERYBODY?” Thomas exclaims for the video intro.

“FINALLY!” Roman angrily but excitedly shouts after. The two other light sides pop up to also complain about the lack of videos in production in the past year, all the while attempting to calm down the royal side.

“Ok, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m doing it now, ok?” Thomas shouts over the complaining sides to divert the issue at hand. “It hasn’t been particularly easy. You know that guys, right?” He continues as he glances at the empty spot at the bottom of the stairs. They all silenced with a guilty look on their faces aside from the logical side, as he has been the one trying to compose the internal panic Thomas continuously endures within the past year. “Okaaaay! Let’s lighten things up a bit! I’m so glad you guys are here because we are having another Q&A!” Thomas excitedly announces to the three sides present.

"Not to put your siren to sleep but, you can't just repeat an episode, Thomas," Roman interrupted.

"I do concede with Roman's opinion here, Thomas. Haven't we talked about the originality of your videos before? Continuously repeating concepts not only bore viewers but also lessens the probability of their engagement to any or all of your future content," Logan discusses.

"I don't think 'all' would be possible, Logan. But, Thomas, isn't there anything else we could do today, maybe? We have been gone for a while, kiddo, so maybe there's other stuff we could do?" Patton adds.

"Calm down, guys. You're all starting to sound like Virgil. But, let me explain first. We're doing a Q&A because, as you said, it's been a long time since the last video AND even longer since the last Q&A, and so much has changed since then," All the sides present appear to be content with the explanation provided.

"Plus," Thomas adds. "This one has a twist," he says directly to the side to his right. Logan slightly nods in approval but remains skeptical. "And, what might that be?" asked Roman.

"The questions will be provided by each of us," Thomas states with pride seen on his face. Roman and Logan met eye to eye with worry and slight fear in their eyes. "I'm sorry. Can you elaborate more on that, Thomas?" Patton worriedly asks.

"Well, we have to think of a question that we want everyone to answer. For example, I think of a question and each of you has to answer it,"

Now, all three sides share glances with worry seen in their faces. "Why do you all seem worried?" Thomas asks with a nervous chuckle. "Roman has been bothering me with this idea for a few months now, I thought you all would be okay with it," All eyes were on the royal side. "I didn't think of that idea…" He trails off.

Realization falls to the four after a few seconds. "Ahh. I forgot. I'm not your only 'imagine dragon'," Roman confirms their suspicions.

~*~*~

"Which one of us scares you the most?" Thomas asks the four sides present.

They all agreed to the concept Thomas has presented and seem to be convinced that 'playing wouldn't hurt.' They eventually got the anxious side to play as well after a few minutes of convincing(and bribing).

"I used to be scared of Janus' scales before but I'm fine with it now. Hmm... Oh! Remus' tentacles really creep me out," Patton answers and shivers a little with the mention of tentacles.

"I'm offended you're asking me! I AM A PRINCE! I have nothing to fear. And none of you can do actual harm to me as far as I'm concerned," The four give the royal side a 'refuse to take that answer' look. "Fine," he sighs in defeat. "Remus," he says with an unexplainable expression on his face. They all agreed before that they're allowed to not explain their answer if they aren't comfortable with it. So far, until the current question, only the anxious side's answers remained without explanation.

It's now Virgil's turn to answer and they wait for it even though they already seemed to know. "Roman," he stated. All the sides were taken aback but refused to ask him to elaborate. Roman's expression was unexplainable and distracted for the duration of the entire game.

~*~*~

After a few, they were now on the last question, and it was Patton's turn. He suggested that it should be a little personal but not too much, and they were still allowed to refuse to explain their answer. They were all skeptical, so they agreed that if the question Patton thought of was too personal for them, they'll just rethink another question and edit out that section for the final cut of the video.

"Okay, what was your worst romantic gesture?" Patton asked. They all nod to signal that they were all comfortable answering the question.

"Well, I am the romantic side so I don't think I even HAVE a bad romantic gesture..." Roman answers but continues to think of an incident. "Oh. One time, I had a crush on someone and I didn't know how to handle it, so I filled their room with heart-shaped confetti…" Roman answered while rubbing the back of his neck from embarrassment.

Virgil's head shot up to look at the royal side. "That was YOU?" He didn't mean it to be that loud. He immediately covered his mouth with his hand and lowered his head back down, avoiding the others' glances.

Roman blushed and froze in place. He forgot that Virgil was right next to him.

Thomas made a mental note to cut the video from after Roman's answer to before Virgil's answer.

"I left them flowers but I never told them it was from me" Virgil tried to make his answer as vague as possible to prevent any more mishaps. Thomas and the other two sides could almost hear the cogs turning inside Roman's head as they heard Virgil's answer.

~*~*~

After their recording session was finished, the four sides sank down to return to the mind palace. They all rose up in their living room except for Virgil as he is the only one allowed to rise up anywhere directly from the real world. An ability Logan plans to learn about soon when Virgil allows him to. Roman retreats to his room, still processing Virgil's answer earlier. While Patton asks Logan to help him prepare their dinner, he also processes Logan's answer to the last question of their game earlier.

*time skip brought to you by Roman's band references*

Virgil was, no surprise, wide awake in the middle of the night, still reading the little notes written on the "confetti." Apparently, Roman thinks that tons of pieces of paper, three inches in size, are considered confetti. Some of them have lines from song lyrics. Some with lines from poems. While some were just plain feelings. How Roman described Virgil's eyes and how beautiful he looked in his makeup that day in small letters written on the piece of paper (front and back) almost made him melt. And how Roman apologized for how he treated Virgil before made him regret not putting a note or not giving the flowers to Roman personally instead of leaving them on the royal side's bedside table.

*flashback brought to you by my hopeless romantic ass*

Virgil just finished his shoot with Thomas for his "80s-Glam-Virgil" look. At first, he wouldn't stop complaining about why he gets to have a glam look while Logan and Patton got the casual look. Eventually, he let it go cuz' he slowly was starting to like the look. After the shoot, he was so exhausted that he couldn't bring himself to rise up in his room directly so he rose up in the mind palace living room and dragged his limp body to his room.

As he opened his door, pieces of paper flooded a small portion of the hallway in front of his room. He looked inside and saw that his entire room was flooded too. He went inside and snapped his finger to close the door and to get the papers outside back into his room. He was too tired to deal with the suspected "prank" at hand so he snapped his finger once again to gather all of the papers into a giant box to keep in his closet for the time being.

The box remained untouched for months.

*end of flashback*

Roman sat on his bed, staring at the red roses he kept in a vase on his dresser. It was made of red heart-shaped pieces of paper glued together to the shape of a rose. Something about it seemed familiar yet mysterious. Roman could sense it was made with the magic from the imagination, but it wasn’t his. And, it definitely wasn’t Remus’, for obvious reasons. There was a bit of dark but endearing and comfortable aura. Roman laid his back on the bed in defeat. Covering his face with his hands as he blushes and groans at the same time. He tried to get some sleep but couldn’t keep his suspicions off his mind.

His knuckles hover on the purple door for a few moments before fully knocking, knowing the side behind it was also wide awake. He heard some paper shuffling and a sliding door closing after, presumably a closet door. A few moments pass before the door opens just enough for a part of Virgil’s face to peer out. “Please tell me this is as important as something burning on fire or I am slamming this door on your face,”

“Uh… Not really but-” Virgil resumes to close the door only for Roman to grab the door frame at the last second. “Ah, shit!” Roman whisper-shouted.

Virgil returned to his bed, leaving Roman in his current state, not even bothering to close the door anymore. Eventually, Roman let himself in, clutching his hand. He sat down on the beanbag in the corner, glaring at the other, while Virgil stayed on his bed with a blank expression. Virgil, then, gestured to Roman expectantly as if to let him continue what he was going to say.

Roman, then, slowly lowered his hand but continued to glare at Virgil. “Was it me that you gave the flowers to?” Roman asked skeptically. Virgil seems to have lost his confidence and slowly lowered his head, unable to look at Roman. “I'm gonna take that as a yes. You know, you could have easily gotten away with giving me flowers if you told me that you also gave the others flowers, seeing that it was Valentines that day,” Roman, amused, grinned smugly.

“Still not as sappy as your stunt,” Virgil snickered, glancing at his closet door. “Yeah, about that… I’m actually glad you didn’t bring it up anymore cuz’ it was actually a spur in-moment kind of thing,” Roman confessed, averting the other’s gaze. Virgil admitted it was actually kind of sweet and that he hasn’t finished reading each of the notes.

“Sooo…” The anxious side trailed off. The tension was so thick that both of the sides were staring at the floor as if it was a fireworks display. “Sooo…? You like me too…?” Roman started. “I mean, I thought I made that pretty clear when I answered the question about our worst romantic gesture,” Virgil chuckled and blushed as he attempted to catch the other’s eye. “Well, I like you too,” Roman blushed, and the two fell in comfortable silence before Virgil patted the spot beside him to invite Roman to sit with him.

Virgil’s smile fell suddenly as he looked at the taller side next to him and asked “So, what now?” Roman looked back at him with a small smile and gently reached for the other’s hand, “You tell me. I’m down with anything you’re comfortable with,” Virgil laid his head on the other’s shoulder with a sad smile, “Can you just stay here for a while?”

“I can do that, Mr. Darkside,” Roman replied with a quiet voice.

Yeah sorry this has "written at 2 am" vibes. Cuz half of it is. Also I just found out that I don't know how to write dialogue by Patton or from his perspective at least. And I am very proud of the band references my 2 am brain thought of

Also thank you to @thethreeunity for the last-minute comments before my sorry ass posts this without giving it a second thought XD love you lots Trin <3

Bonus:

“What is it with you and your band references today?”

“I was hoping you’d notice,” Roman answered with a chuckle.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #prinxiety #prinxiety fic #ts virgil #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #ts prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #implied logicality #em writes

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korissideblog · 3 years

Text

soooo alot of people really liked my Takao Talking ideas, so i decided to make a fake little fan transcript <3

this is really really short, but it's my first time really going into philosophy without a prompt, so maybe I'll get better as time goes on <3

{hiya!!! I’m @spaceACE✩! (=^-ω-^=)~ }

{I luv luv luv Takao Talking!!! And while Taka has CCs on his videos, I just thought it would be fun to do a transcript for some of my fav videos!!! (=´∇｀=)~ }

{soooo here it is!!! ฅ/ᐠ ‧̫‧ ᐟ\ฅ please like, comment, and enjoy!!!!

(๑✪ᆺ✪๑)~ }

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

aki put my camera up really high and now i have to turn it on and off with a broom handle. let’s talk about optimism in the bad times.

[Takao looks directly up at the camera, the camera being at a very very high angle. Takao is a fit, tallish person with lightly tanned skin, curly brown hair, and shiny yellow eyes. He has two sets of horns, one set that holds closely to his skull and goes up at the very end, and another set that does straight out, again going up at the very end. She is wearing a simple black choker, an oversized white t-shirt that says “Of Course I Cum Fast; I Have Fish To Catch!” With an outline of a bass jumping out of a body of water on it, and black biker shorts, as well as black slides. He is holding a broom in his right hand.]

Takao: Ah, alright. I think it’s on now.

Takao: so! I was supposed to be posting a video that had my buddy Aki in it, but apparently someone was “being a nuisance” and someone else would “rather look at me than a camera lens” or whatever.

Takao: he was just being pissy and he put my camera up really high. And hey, that was cool when we were hanging out, sure. We made lunch together and ate it. It was a fun time all around. Problems arise when he leaves my place, and “forgets” to give me my camera back. I have to turn it on and off with this. [Takao swings the broom around a bit]

Takao: So if this video goes out, it means I’ve either grown a few inches, or I’ve invested in a step ladder. Both of these events are equally possible.

Takao: And if this video doesn’t go out, then you know what happened. Except that you don’t know, because this video obviously won’t be out. You guys are smart. Out of all my friends, I’m sure you could guess which one would fuck up my recordings.

Takao: anywho! Since I'm here, forced to keep my chin up, let’s talk about optimism in the bad times.

[Takao drags a settee into frame with a great amount of struggle. Cut to him carrying a small end table over and putting it next to the settee. Cut to him placing a plate of sliced apples on the table, as well as a glass of (sparkling?) water]

Takao: [lounging across the settee] it was Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz who believed that we live in the best of all possible worlds. He based most of his ideas off of the assumed existence of capital ‘g’ God, so that isn’t exactly the most popular idea about optimism that’s currently going around, but it’s what I'm gonna use for today’s video.

Takao: If we live in the best of all possible worlds, how can one explain the mass suffering that we face? One could possibly say that without knowing suffering we wouldn’t know joy, I personally agree with that, but one could also say that suffering is a consequence of the joy that we have. If there is no joy without suffering, then there is no suffering without joy.

Takao: I’ve personally gone through suffering, in many parts of my life, but I’ve also experienced joy. And given the ability to start it all over again, i think i would still suffer unnecessarily in order to be joyful unnecessarily.

Takao: But optimism in the bad times is different. It’s going through suffering and somehow finding something to appreciate, it’s, cutting your finger with a knife, but being alright with it because you can wear your buddy’s merch now. [Takao holds up his hand, and on it is a bandage. It’s a bit blurry, but it looks similar to merchandise that is currently out for pro hero Smokestack]

Takao: it’s not finding joy in suffering, that’s masochism, it’s joy in spite of suffering.

Takao: But I'm sure all of us know how hard it can be to find joy while suffering, so we kinda can skip over that part sometimes. I didn’t find joy in the fact that I could see my reflection in the knife that cut me, but I did find joy in the healing aspect. My suffering was mostly over by the time I got the bandage, but I still put it on because I needed something good to come out of the experience. I was working on healing myself, and that’s where I found joy. [Takao takes one of the apple slices and eats it. She lifts the glass of water, but pauses before he drinks it]

Takao: and hey, I wouldn’t have had the same joy if this bandage wasn’t my buddy’s merch. Maybe I wouldn’t have even put it on! Maybe there’s a timeline where I never met Jetsam, but I still got the same cut, and it got infected and I lost my finger. [Takao takes a sip of the water, and puts it back down] Obviously this is an exaggerated example, but you get my point. There’s a timeline where I didn’t make the friends I have today, and I suffered more because of it.

Takao: It’s hard being your own therapist. [Jiji, an old black cat, walks into frame] That’s why your therapist exists. Humans are social creatures, and will always suffer from loneliness. [Jiji paces in front of the settee till Takao picks him up and puts him on her lap] no matter how uncomfortable it can make us, we need other people. Other people may not be able to stop our suffering, but they can help us get through it, and help us heal afterwards.

Takao: [looking into the lens of the camera] I originally made this channel when I was… you know I was kinda messed up

Takao: Real sick in the head.

Takao: But you know what?

Takao: Van Gogh painted the Starry Night while in drug rehab

Takao: So maybe I’m onto something here

Takao: Maybe good things don’t come from bad things,

Takao: …

Takao; Maybe good things come from healing after bad things.

[The frame fades to black]

[A quick cut back to Takao as he holds the broom, trying and failing to reach the camera without standing up from his settee]

[A quick and startling cut to Takao’s feet as she quickly walks to another room]

[Takao is now wearing different shoes, black boots, and is closing her front door. The dull click of her boots is heard softly]

[Cut to more walking, this time down a sidewalk. The click of his boots more pronounced now]

[Takao’s feet sway side to side as he sits on a subway]

[Takao records a woman in a tight pink dress. The woman is attractive, tall and blonde, but the camera is focused on her bag, large and a matching shade of pink. Out of the bag pops out a tan chihuahua with a pink spiked collar. The subway speaker talks indistinctly]

[More walking down a sidewalk, but at a quickened pace]

[Takao points the camera at a mirror in an elevator, his head is not shown, posing cutely with her leg up and a peace sign]

[More walking down a hallway as Takao finds a door]

[Takao flips through a strangely large ring of keys. Once he finds one with ‘BC’ crudely carved into it, she sticks it into the lock and turns it]

[He opens the door and walks into a living room. A man sitting on a couch looks up. This man is Aki Hiroharu. Hiroharu seems to be watching the news while eating something out of a bowl. Hiroharu looks shocked to see Takao, and may be about to speak, but immediately stops as he goes to cover his face with his arm]

[The camera shakes as Takao throws a step ladder at Hiroharu]

Takao: BITCH ASS-

[There’s a short few shots of the two fighting, clearly playfully, but neither seem willing to lose]

[Someone puts the camera down gently, walking back to the couch and resting their legs onto the open stepladder. The person is a fusion of Haruhiro and Takao, commonly known as Akito by fans. Akito continues to eat as they watch the news.]

[End]

#wow this is alot shorter than it looked on the google doc #slowly feeling less and less confident about this #aito takao #aki hiroharu #bnha oc comeback #Takao Talking #Kori stories

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monsterlovinghours · 4 years

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Okay. You asked for robofizz prompts and I think I have something. Character (reader or OC, totally up to you) works at Loo Loo Land as a maintenance worker for the rides and games. Their day is busy as hell because, let’s be honest, shit breaks down a lot there. But, out of the blue, management makes them robofizz’s new mechanic because he killed the last one. This is the first time they’re meeting the deranged clown and things get pretty, you know, when character tries to fix his sparking wires. 👀👀👀👀👀

oh fuck here we go y’all sluts better buckle up

Ducking behind a row of rigged carnival games, you let your work bag fall to the ground as you took a breather, wiping sweat and what looked like engine oil (but could be anything from burnt sugar to cremation ash) off your forehead. Taking a job as a ride mechanic had seemed like a good idea at the time; get into the park for free, discounts on funnel cake, access to all the shows. All you had to do was tighten a few bolts and make sure nobody got electrocuted too severely.

But here, like the rest of Hell, imps like you were disposable grunt workers and nobody gave two and a half shits if you were overworked or exhausted. Everything was broken or breaking. You were shocked (metaphorically and literally) your first day when you saw that behind the novelty prizes and shiny veneers, the park was just a rat’s nest of rusted metal, sharp edges, and exposed wiring. Mechanics were routinely crushed or mangled or fried, and within a day another had taken their place. So far, you’d managed to avoid the various death traps and make it a solid month, which made you one of the more senior employees.

Today was especially busy; there was some important fuck and his daughter at the park today, and orders were to keep the place running as smoothly as possible, though “smooth” was a relative term. It had seen you running like a maniac from one end of the park to the other, your uniform shirt coming untucked from your grease-stained pants as you jogged from one disaster to the next. Predictably, as soon as you had a second to take a breath, your phone went off, the splintering chitter of its message alert drilling into your ears.

Another mechanic was down, this one working to repair one of the main acts. You groaned, big machines you were fine with, but intricate wiring and robotics? Not your strong suit. And this was the top-billed show, the most loved (or most feared) performer the park had to offer. Fizzarolli himself. You hadn’t seen the show yet, and his ominous circus tent was one of the only places you hadn’t yet been called to to fix something, but since you were currently the most senior mechanic on staff at the moment, and seeing how RoboFizz had just crushed his last mechanic, the job fell unfortuitously to you.

Fantastic.

You sighed and slung your tool bag over your shoulder, walking briskly through the crowds to hastily erected circus tent, which had been cleared of people for the time being. You took a deep breath before ducking inside, blinking a bit as your eyes adjusted from the bright light of midday to the dim green glow that filled the tent. Some benches were knocked over, a few still had blood spatter on them, but you'd straighten that up later. At the moment, your focus was on the shadowed figure bent in unnatural angles slumped on the stage. His eyes and grinning mouth were lit with the same dull green, and they narrowed to slits when they saw you.

"Its about ti-time you got here, toots!" He laughed, the sound skipping like a damaged record. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you knelt behind Fizz to access his mainframe; at least the rides didn't talk.

"Yeah yeah, its busy work keeping this shithole operating, sue me." A few twists with a screwdriver, and the panel popped free, exposing the tangled wires and hydraulics, and you groaned inwardly. This kind of detailed work was way beyond your level of experience.

"Ya waiting for a formal invitation ba-ba-back there, tinker? Get moving, I've got an audience waiting!"

"Hell's sake, keep your bells on. I'm not exactly a robotics expert." Clamping a small flashlight in your teeth, you started to poke around inside the hydraulics, looking for any leaks or broken connections. Not seeing anything right away, you probed deeper, focused on finding the problem in the less than adequate lighting. Had you been more experienced in dealing with robots, you would have perhaps remembered to inspect the outer body for any exposed wiring. As it happens, you did not, and your inexperience led you to brush against an exposed set of wires that threw sparks and burned a dark, circular mark on the back of your hand. The pain made you jerk back on instinct, yelping and cursing. It took you a moment to notice that the posture of the clown had changed, straightening from his slumped position with his head cocked sharply to the side. With the soft ratchet of moving machinery, Fizz turned his head 180 degrees to look at you, and you noticed more quickly now that his stare had changed as well. Before, it felt derisive, a touch irritated behind the ever present smile he'd been programmed with. But now there was more intent inside the green, more interest...almost as if he were leering at you.

"Ohhh," he rasped, "so its gonna be that kind of show?"

You were confused, until you noticed a dot of red within the green, a new light in the mainframe, with tiny lettering indicating what new function your little spasm had switched on.

18+ Mode On

Your eyes widened as the reality of your little mistake finally began to sink in. It was a well known fact that Fizz had an “adult” mode, mainly for private shows where wads of cash exchanged hands behind closed doors. Sometimes, the crowds at night were bigger than the crowds during the day. Sure, on a lonely night or two, you’d wondered just what a sex-capable robot clown could do and if shelling out a small fortune would be worth it. Now, it seemed, you were about to get an accidental freebie.

“Fuck.”

“That’s the idea, sweetcheeks.” Fizz got to his feet with a whir and a shower of yellowish sparks, his body jerking so that the back panel slammed shut, hiding his exposed mechanics and thwarting any attempt you might have made to switch his mode. From somewhere within the tent, jaunty calliope music began to play, the pitch slow and wavering at first, like playing a record on the wrong speed. “So what’s your ple-pleasure, sweet stuff? Your ol’ pal Fizzarolli can do it all-upstairs, downstairs, butt stuff, you name it.”

“I...uh…” Your entire body felt numb, frozen, unable to do much more than stare as he advanced toward you, looming over you with that malevolent, leering grin still on his fanged mouth. “I’m not...I mean, I don’t…”

Fizz paused, his head once more cocking sharply to the side as he regarded you, then he let out a laugh, the bells on his hat jingling as his head did a complete roll on his shoulders. “Aww, looks like someone’s sh-shy! Don’t worry, tinker,” he growled in a smug, condescending tone, reaching down to pat you on the head. “I’ll take the reins on this one. You just sit back and enjo-jo-joy the show!”

With a sinister chuckle, he lunged for you, wrapping his entire body around you like an electronic boa constrictor, that laugh still buzzing in your ear as he coiled tight, then unwound himself, flinging your body towards the ceiling of the tent. There was barely any time for you to pull breath into your lungs to scream, and then suddenly, you weren’t falling anymore. Something else was wrapped around you, something cold and biting as steel. Around each wrist, each ankle, your waist, and your neck, whiplike appendages were wound, thin and covered in shifting metal plates. You were being held in midair, suspended like a puppet; if the advertisements you’d seen plastered around the park were any clue, you would guess that you were getting a taste of the “real tentacle action” Fizz boasted. Indeed, from within the loose panel on his back was where the appendages seemed to originate.

As he stalked closer, you gulped, the sickly green glow of his eyes bathing your face and throwing your shadow in harsh relief against the canvas wall. Fizz wasted no time, and with only a deranged giggle as a warning, he shoved his hand beneath the untucked hem of your shirt to slide into your pants, cold hand cupped firmly between your legs. Barely a sound had left you, everything happening so fast you could barely process, let alone react, but a moan left you now, the silk of his glove and the ruffle around his wrist feeling so strange and yet so good as they brushed against your most sensitive parts. Fizz chuckled, or at least, he attempted to, the sound glitching into a series of strange beeps in response to your apparent openness to his touch.

"Boy, hardly touched at all and you're already moaning? You must need it ba-bad, impling." He leaned closer, eyes narrowing, and you shied away from those sharp teeth, so close to your face. Without warning, that hand between your legs began to vibrate, and you yelped, wriggling in your bonds.

"Ohhh...oh fuck…!"

"Like I said," he crooned. "That's the idea-ea-ea." The vibrations cranked up a notch, and you could no longer keep still, your breath coming faster, tail thrashing behind you out of sheer pleasure. Truthfully, it had been a long time; when you were fighting to keep a roof over your head and passing out from near exhaustion the second you returned home at night, there wasn't much time to try and get laid. It was lonely and it sucked, but that's life. Now, touched for the first time in what could have been centuries for all you knew, your toes curled inside your work boots, tears forming in your eyes as your hips bucked against his hand. It was so good, so fucking good, and with every increase in speed, your moans and cries got louder, more desperate, until-

"Ah-ah-ah, tinker, no you don't!" Suddenly that hand was gone, all stimulation withdrawn, and you whimpered. The tentacles around your extremities tightened in response. "You thought I was just gonna let you co-come so soon? Poor, dumb little imp-slut, it ain't gonna be that easy."

You swore, your teeth bared in an impotent snarl, but the clown only laughed, more carnival-striped tentacles unfurling and wrapping around you, the metal cold against your overheated skin. Now fully immobile, you were lifted higher, splayed out, shaking and wanting. The new appendages began to nudge and press around your body, seemingly exploring your form while the clown stepped between your spread legs, hands groping at your trembling thighs. His smirk was near evil, merciless, piercing as a laser as he watched his tentacles divest you of every stitch of clothing, torn and tossed aside without care. The tips of his jester hat brushed along your legs as he leaned closer to your core, mouth opening to graze the tips of his sharp teeth along your inner thighs, chuckling when you writhed, uncertain if you were trying to pull away or get closer. “Please,” you whimpered, not quite knowing what you were begging for, your body reduced to firing synapses and electric pulses of pure need.

Again, that mocking giggle issued from somewhere behind his sharp teeth. “Begging now, slut? You really want it tha-a-at bad, huh?” His open mouth neared your center, and you noticed now that there was heat coming from him, like the brush of warm breath, and saw a faint reddish glow shining from somewhere within his maw. “Want Ol’ Fizz to make you come again and a-again like the greedy little tramp you are?”

“Yes,” you choked out, so far past caring how desperate you sounded. “Yes, please, please, please!”

A soft whir was your only warning before something long, warm, and slippery was sliding between your legs; your body spasmed, jerking against the restraining appendages, your head lifting to see his striped tongue pressing against you, coated in shiny lubricant. He licked experimentally at you, seeing how much pressure you liked and where you were most sensitive, continuing his brutal teasing as the needle-sharp tips of his fingers raked down your thighs, nearly drawing blood. Then that mouth opened impossibly wide, eyes narrowed to knowing slits as that tongue probed at your entrance, nudging against it before shoving inside with no warning. Gasps and choked half-words fell from your lips at the delicious stretch of being suddenly, violently filled, his tongue twisting and pushing, the stripes not just for decoration but denoting a raised, almost ribbed texture.

When it began to vibrate inside you, you couldn’t help but scream.

He cooed filth up at you, still able to talk despite his mouth being wrapped around you, voice distorted from the vibrations. Yellowish sparks would issue from his limbs as he fought to keep you still, burning against your skin like vicious little kisses. You weren’t coaxed to the edge so much as dragged toward it, your orgasm slamming into you with near physical force. The clench and thrashing of your body didn’t slow him; if anything, the vibrations intensified, more tentacles issuing from him to stroke and tease other erogenous zones, your entire body his to play with, helpless against his ruthless pursuit of your ruin. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he ripped your pleasure from your body with no care to be gentle, teeth and hands leaving marks in their wake. You were his slut, his eager imp-whore, his pretty little toy; at least, you didn’t deny it when he growled these claims up at you. As long as he didn’t stop, you would be anything he wanted.

But while he couldn’t grow tired or drained, you certainly could, and through a veil of tears you begged him to stop, half afraid that he wouldn’t. Fizz paused, then slowly unwound himself from around your violently shaking form, tentacles disappearing back inside the panel they had come from. He regarded you curiously, still grinning as you collapsed in a boneless, shaking heap, unable to do much except pant for breath. Finally, you looked up at him with hazy eyes, your sweaty hair falling limply in your face.

“Didn’t you have a show to do?”

Fizz threw back his head and laughed, the bells on his hat jingling merrily, a stark contrast to the cold, malicious sound of his glee. “Not the sharpest t-t-tool in the shed, huh, tinker? Look around; you a-are the show.”

To your horror, you could see dozens of yellow eyes pinned to your naked form, imps of all shapes and sizes, eyeing you hungrily. The light of day outside the tent was gone, and the depraved crowds that only came around at night had filtered in while you were...preoccupied. Ruby skin turned a mortified burgundy as you scrambled to cover yourself with any scraps of your clothing you could find, but Fizz wrapped his arms around you and hauled you to your feet, his arm secure around your waist as he bowed to his audience-your audience. They began to applaud, some whistling, others throwing out lewd comments. Fizz pulled you into his side, the hand on your waist slipping just a little lower.

“Seems like we make a pretty good duo, dollface,” he rasped, showing off his pointed teeth in a lascivious grin that at your already weak knees nearly buckling. “Whaddya say we gi-gi-give them an encore?”

#helluva boss #robofizz #honk honk buzz buzz welcome to robot clown hell

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bi-bard · 4 years

Text

I’m Not a Party Kind of Person- Malcolm Bright Imagine (Prodigal Son)

Title: I’m Not a Party Kind of Person

Pairing: Malcolm Bright X Reader

Requested: Nope

Word Count: 1,298 words

Warning(s): violence within the show’s canon

Summary: (Season 1, Episode 13) (Y/n) was intrigued by Malcolm Bright as soon as he started working with Gil’s team. They were basically best friends within a few days. However, during a new case, Malcolm isn’t blind to the danger that (Y/n) seems to jump into for him... and that makes him aware of so much more.

Author’s Note: I’m back to writing about Malcolm Bright too much.

Please consider supporting my Ko-fi account. It would mean a lot to me. If I know there are people interested in it, I’ll get the monthly donation part set up.

Support my work? https://ko-fi.com/khoward0

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

I put my hand over my mouth when I saw Malcolm step out of Gil’s car in an all-white suit. He looked at me before pointing at me.

“Not a word,” he said quietly as we all started walking.

“I was just gonna ask... Aziraphale, where’s Crowley,” I asked, chuckling at the look he gave me. “You can’t tell me that you weren’t expecting a Good Omens reference.”

“Miami Vice,” J.T shouted as he caught up with us.

“J.T, be nice,” Dani said.

“Thank you,” Malcolm nodded.

“So, were you able to kill James Bond or...,” she trailed off.

“I am definitely happy that I brought you along today,” Gil said with a smirk.

We all walked into the crime scene. The body was lying in the middle of the room, an old gun sitting on the ground next to him.

“Hello Edrisa,” Malcolm greeted.

“Hi Malcolm... sorry, Colonel,” she saluted at him. “I love your chicken.”

I gave her a high five as Malcolm examined the body and crime scene. I walked around the room, careful to avoid evidence, and looking for anything that could help me. Malcolm rambled about the Count of Monte Cristo and how this murder was exactly like the book.

“Wait, what’s this-”

We all heard the click when Edrisa lifted the body.

“Edrisa,” Malcolm yelled, jumping over the desk and putting his hand on the bomb. I ran over and pulled Edrisa back, pretty much hugging her.

Tensions only went higher when there was another click.

“The bomb activated,” Malcolm explained. “As soon as I move my hand, it’s going to explode.”

“Bright, don’t move,” Gil said as a vest was slipped over Malcolm’s chest.

“Good thing I don’t have a hand tremor,” Malcolm sassed.

“Are you making jokes,” Gil snapped back.

I sighed before kneeling down across from Malcolm. He looked at me with wide eyes as I reached over and placed my hands over his.

“What are you doing,” he said.

“You have a hand tremor, but with the increased weight, I can hold onto it even when your hand shakes,” I replied.

“You do realize that this is absolutely insane, right? It might not even work.”

I just looked at him for a moment before looking down at our hands. He stayed silent for a minute, studying me before rambling instructions off to the others in the room.

“Please go,” he begged quietly as everyone started leaving the room. I shook my head. “(Y/n)-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I snapped. Malcolm nodded. “Now, what do we do?”

“I never said I had a plan-”

Malcolm was cut off by his phone ringing. He used one hand to grab it and answered it when he saw the caller ID.

“Are you serious,” I asked. He just gave me a shrug before talking. I tried to ignore the conversation for a while. “Is that your dad?”

“Who’s that,” I barely heard through the speaker. “Is that (Y/n)? They stayed with you while you were holding an explosive? They sound more amazing than you-”

“Bye,” Malcolm hung quickly.

“So... that plan that you didn’t have,” I asked.

“Do you trust me?”

“Absolutely.”

“You really shouldn’t,” he replied.

Before I could respond, Malcolm grabbed the gun, picked his hand up, and wrapped an arm around my waist so I would stand up with him. He shot the window out and dragged both of us out. I curled up, hoping my back would absorb most of the shock. I barely registered the explosive going off as we both landed on our backs on the top of a car... Gil’s car.

“Told you that you shouldn’t trust me,” Malcolm said after a few moments of shock. I looked over at him in silence for a moment before letting out a chuckle.

“I think that proved the exact opposite,” I replied just as medics got over to us. Malcolm smiled at me. One of those post “I almost got myself killed but I still lived” smiles that I had grown accustomed to... but still wish I didn’t see so often.

--Time Skip--

“So... you’re just going to sneak into a wedding that your mom’s invited to when she thinks you’re on vacation and accuse someone of murder,” I said. Malcolm nodded. “Wait, I’ll make it better... you’re accusing a woman that’s been presumed dead for years.”

“Yeah,” he nodded again.

“Oh my god,” I chuckled.

We were waiting in a department store, waiting for Dani to put on a dress. They were going to the wedding to catch the killer. I was just moral support. I was seeing them off and then I was going home or back to the station.

“Go get changed,” he nodded back towards the changing rooms.

“What?”

“Go get changed.”

“I’m not going.”

“Since when?”

“When was that the plan?”

“The whole time,” he said. “Go get changed.”

“I-”

“Go get changed,” he repeated, pushing me towards the dressing room, looking at the women in the shop. “Will you please help (Y/n) find something?”

“Sure,” she nodded before guiding me back. I glared at Malcolm over my shoulder. He waved at me and winked. I turned around, now blushing and nervous.

--Time Skip--

“You didn’t have to walk with me,” Malcolm said as we got closer to his apartment.

“I’m only a little bit further down the road,” I shrugged. “I could use the fresh air anyway... especially after tonight.”

He chuckled, nodding at me, “I guess so.”

He stopped in front of his door, looking up and taking a deep breath. I stood next to him.

“You did a good job today,” I said. “I’m sorry I questioned your theory.”

“You were smart to,” he chuckled. “I suggested a dead person killed someone.”

“But you were right, like usual,” I replied. “I am just so happy to be done.”

“Hey, for what it’s worth, you look amazing,” Malcolm said. I looked down.

“Barely,” I mumbled.

“What? You look great,” he insisted. There was a moment of silence. “Why did you stay with me?”

“Hmm?”

“At the first crime scene,” he explained. “Why did you stay with me when I found the explosive?”

“I... I don’t know.”

“But you do.”

“Malcolm,” I sighed.

“You don’t just decide to do something like that,” he said. “So why?”

“I just... I like you. A lot.”

I felt like I was in middle school.

He just looked at me in silence for a few moments, “I like you too.”

“But what about Dani,” I asked. He furrowed his eyebrows. “What about your feelings for Dani?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Malcolm said. “I really like you. I think you’re amazing.”

“Oh,” I mumbled. He chuckled. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” Malcolm shook his head.

I just looked down for a moment before smiling at him. He stepped forward and cupped the side of my face. I felt my heart speeding up as I watch him move. He slowly got closer to me but stopped with only a few inches between us. I leaned forward, closing the space and kissing him gently.

I pulled back a few moments later, smiling and chuckling quietly as our foreheads touched. Malcolm chuckled with me.

“I should get home,” I said softly.

“Okay,” he replied before I stepped back. “Can we meet for breakfast tomorrow? My treat.”

“That sounds great.”

“Good,” he nodded, looking down nervously. “I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

Malcolm turned around to head into his apartment and I headed down the street. I had never felt so awake that late at night. Everything that had just happened had given me a whole new rush of adrenaline. I was buzzing. Absolutely buzzing... and it was the best feeling in the world.

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jflemings · 4 years

Text

Rudolph ; oliver wood

warnings: light swearing, not proof read

authors note: first fic posted! i originally had a fred fic lined up but could’t get this idea out of my head. reader is in Gryffindor!

It was approaching christmas time and as per usual Hogwarts was all decked out with decor of all kinds, christmas songs playing, rich scents of cinnamon and fire and of course the snow that covered the campus every year.

It was utterly magical.

You had been on the Gryffindor quidditch team since your second year as a chaser and since then you had made it your mission for your team to dress christmas theme for your last game of the season before break. This year was no different.

The bag of charmed headbands swayed in your grip as you walked through the cold halls to find your teammates. Donned in your gryffindor quidditch sweater, school skirt and casual shoes you were practically skipping down the corridor while looking out to the snow covered courtyard. With your head in the clouds and your mind on the festivities coming up you were blissfully unaware of the pair of Weasleys that were currently barreling toward you before it was too late.

Frantic hands made their way to grip your shoulders with anticipation before a female voice was booming down the stone halls, echoing directly to your direction.

“y/n! please! you have to help us. We swear we didn’t mean it!” George’s voice filled your ears while he continued to duck behind you

“yeah honest! we had no clue that angie was walking our way!” fred flailed before hiding behind his twin who was hiding behind you. Before you had time to properly retaliate a fuming Angelina was heading straight for you and the boys.

“You two have done it this time! do you know how long it takes me to wash my hair let alone style it exactly how i want it!? ugh! and we have a match this afternoon I’m not going to have enough time!” Angelina launched herself over your shoulder in an attempt to grab their shirts

You were always somehow caught in the middle of the twins an angle’s antics. Moments before disaster struck the chasers wrists were caught in your hands.

“angie! go find hermione, she surely knows a spell to fix your hair. she has a spell for quite literally everything!” your face was soft as you spoke in an attempt to sooth evergrowing temper. She took a deep breath in and out and nodded to you, giving you the okay to let her go the twins still making the effort to stay behind you where they thought they were safe.

Once Angelina had stalked off to go and find the young witch you turned around to face the pair of freckled faced fifth years with your hands on your hips, silently waiting for an explanation.

George was the first to break.

“y/n we swear on our own graves that the slimey slugs were’t meant for her! we swear!” the younger twin pleaded

“please don’t tell Mcgonagall! or wood! oh for the love of merlin and mum’s apple pie please don’t tell Oli anything”

at this point the pair of them were practically on their knees which is a sight your personally don't see too often but unfortunately all good things must come to an end.

“truthfully boys as much as i would love to stand here and have you beg on your knees for my forgiveness I have things to do today, starting off by giving you two the prop for this year’s last game!” the enthusiasm practically seething off you as you rummage through the bag to find the two matching headbands you had organised for the boys.

“like every other year, identical and charmed to stay on all game: just how you liked it.”

the pair beamed at you and gratefully took them from your hands

“you two would’t have to know where golden boy is, do you? i want to give him his now before he gets too in ‘in the mode’ for this afternoon”

the twins looked at each other thoughtfully “we saw him in the great hall before running into you. he was alone and kind of just minding his own business so you should get to that asap” Fred answered, proping his arm up on his other half’s shoulders.

George was trying to get a peak inside the bag you were still holding, probably to try to see which headpiece you had picked to sit on top of your captain’s head for the game.

“Say, y/n, what do you have dear ol’ oliver wearing this year? trying to see who’s the favourite”

Fred lightly scoffed “C’mon Georgie, you and I both know who the favourite is”

Although he wore a playful smirk and his tone was half joking he was right. The twins, along with literally everyone else, knew exactly who your favourite was but it’s not like you made any proper effort to hide it. As you got older, the less care you had about exposing your own feelings to the whole school. You had become shamelessly flirtatious with your captain with him often returning the comments; despite this you never did truly understand where exactly you stood with oliver. you knew he liked you but you did’t know the extent of it or if he only had eyes for you.

you went along with fred nonetheless.

“yeah sorry, G you know who’s first place in my book” you said confidently while pulling out a set of antlers and a bright red nose. The twins stood dumbfounded before snickering.

“he won’t wear that” fred said flat out

“hmm not too sure about that my dear brother”

“you have more of a chance of Georgie here landing a date with Angelina than you do getting wood to actually wear that on the pitch against Slytherin”

you smirked wickedly and turned on your heel “you, my dear friend, are going to be proven wrong”

*****

okay so Fred wasn’t that wrong.

“Oli pleasee, we do it every year” you dramatically drew out

currently, you were sat straddling the seat whilst looking at oliver infront of you who was running over the drills out in front of him. He looked up from his parchment at you and tilted his head

“l/n I’m not wearing antlers and a bright red nose to a quidditch game! i probably won’t be able to play”

you huffed but refused to give up the fight.

“they’re charmed to stay on through the whole game so you can play AND they will bring you extra good luck while we’re out there” you exclaimed as you picked up the red nose from the table and began fiddling with it. Oliver looked from your hands to your face and sighed.

“what do you mean ‘good luck’” he raised an eyebrow at you with curiosity laced in his words, almost like he wanted to believe you. You grinned.

“Because your favourite chaser is giving you them of course!” the grin etched upon your face somehow widened at the sight of a slight tinge of rose pink dusting the keeper’s cheeks.

This prompted an eyeroll and a sigh escaping his lips. “just because you’re the favourite doesn’t mean I’m wearing a nose” your ears perked at the unexpected response you just got and you leaned in closer to his face.

“So i am the favourite, huh?” the smirk gracing your lips was cocky yet it flattered when he turned to look at you.

His honey coloured eyes drifted from your eyes to your mouth and back to your eyes “you know damn well you’re the favourite”

You felt as though a whole zoo had been let lose in your stomach and the soft smile that then graced your lips was the only tell sign of that. You did know, of course. Everyone did. But it’s not like he’d ever said it out loud and if he had it certainly wasn’t to you or while you were around.

“But you aren’t getting me in that headband and nose”

your head dropped before throwing it back dramatically “Oliver wood you are going to look like a fool if you’re the only one on the team without a costume”

“then i’ll look like a fool, darling” the smug smile off his face never left until he watched you get up and walk out of the great hall to go and find the remainder of your team, leaving behind the costume for him on the table. He smiled softly to no one but himself before returning back to what he was doing.

*****

Lunch time had rolled around and you were sat with Lee and the twins discussing the match you were set to play in less than few hours with wood nowhere to be found. You found yourself pushing your food around your plate with your fork in an effort to think of another way to get oliver to wear the stupid antlers. It was only one match for crying out loud! you were all going to look like idiots anyway so why not join in.

Your train of thought was broken when Lee Jordan had directed the topic of coversation away from the match and onto you and oliver.

“y/n would so make the first move are you kidding? I love wood as much as the next guy but all the quidditch going on in his head has surely been a distraction from his plan about how he’s gonna plant one on y/n” Lee was confident in his answer and Fred agreed

you looked up from the miserable plate of food infront of you to hear george speak

“oliver is as dense as a doorknob when it comes to his feelings for y/n. if they were gonna kiss he would just do it as a spur of the moment kind of thing, no think just do and hope for the best.” he shrugged as he spoke through potatoes while waving his fork about, angelina and katie agreeing by his side. Then they all turned to you.

“We haven’t kissed, if that’s what you are silently asking” you dropped your fork with a clank “but since we’re talking about it, I would be the one to make the first move, no questions asked” the smirk on your face was triumphant and Fred and Lee high five you from over the table.

“Let’s make a bet then” George piped up “five galleons to me if Wood makes the first move or five galleons to Lee if y/n makes the first move”. He scanned your group looking for a sign of protest before shaking on it with lee

“Don’t lose me those five galleons, y/n” Lee complained.

you shifted in your seat and gave him a thumbs up and the best smile you could muster while eating food. All you had to do was think of how you could get wood to wear that darn costume and then give him a big ol’ kiss, no worries at all.

*****

It was go time.

The whole team was ready to fly, charmed headbands and new plays were ready to go but your fearless captain was no where to be seen.

Anyone who knew oliver knew that he lived and breathed all things qudditch and now with such an important game about to start he was no where to be found. nonetheless, the team was lined up with angelina filling in as captain for now because it seemed you didn’t have one at the minute.

this made you unbelievably nervous, so much so that you felt like you were about to pass out and if it wasn’t for the twins and their antics you might’ve been on a one way trip to the hospital wing right now.

“do ya reckon oli is dead? because I mean why else would he be late to a match against Slytherin?” fred deadpanned while george stood behind him snickering to no one in particular.

you had momentarily thought about fred’s statement simply because you really couldn’t think of any other reason why oliver wouldn’t be here 2 minutes before you were set to fly. Your hands were now starting to lightly cramp around your broom and you were beginning to nervous sweat despite winter being right around the corner; internally you were an absolute shitshow. volcanoes were erupting in the depths of your stomach and your heart was hammering against your ribcage and the only thing that was on your mind was where the hell was oli?.

As if the gods above had heard your question one frantic keeper donned in red and gold came barrelling through the change rooms and you swear on your own grave you had never felt so much relief in your life.

“sorry I’m so late! I lost track of the time and was trying to find something important” oliver apologised

walking through your team his hand found your shoulder and he leant into your ear “can’t have all my reindeers losing their way because they don’t have a Rudolph”

looking up at him, he sent you a cheeky wink while putting the nose and antlers on his head before returning to his rightful place in the front and centre.

“You guys know what to do, let’s stomp on some snakes” the confidence oozing from his voice was indescribable. the way he spoke was powerful and reckless yet when he turned to look at you over his shoulder the facade dropped when he began to speak softly “Hope my favourite chaser is ready to win”

a warm smile graced your lips “always, captain”

*****

The sheer determination and house pride coming from the stands was overbearing. the screams, cheers, house war cries and encouragement made the desire to win even stronger than before. You, Angelina and Alicia were flying laps around Slytherin; your teamwork unmatched as you continued to set up and score goals for your friends. Fred and George were on their A-game. their aim had improved tremendously since last season with them becoming more coordinated to make sure you and the girls were able to score all you needed. Oliver was so focused on the opposing team and their chasers that you were certain he was unaware of the close score right now. It was 100-110 with Gryffindor taking the lead. all harry had to do was catch the snitch.

He had spotted it and now was neck and neck with malfoy. they were flying dangerously close to the stands where screaming students were situated. this was going to be the closest game you had had in a while.

Just as Alicia had set up a goal for you to score harry caught the snitch and your whole team hollered at the outcome of the game.

“YES! GET IN HARRY!” George had yelled at the top of his lunch while Fred and Alicia laughed in delight at the sight of George almost falling off his broom.

You flew over to an exhausted looking Angleina and did your best to pull her into a hug mid air

“You were amazing Angie! absolutely brilliant! the hard work payed off!” you praised your close friend and the two of you made your way to the ground where students had begun piling off the stands but there was only one person you wanted to see down there.

The sound of your broom hitting the grass could be heard by the people around you when you caught sight of oliver hopping off of his broom. You ran to him and flung your tired arms around his neck with him instantly returning the favour as his arms held a tight grip on your waist.

“Oli we did it! everything that you drilled into us payed off, all the early morning training, that staying up into the early hours of the morning, all of it! every single bit!” you exclaimed and pulled away to get the first proper look at him that whole afternoon. His smile was splitting his face in half and for the first time in a while it felt like the two of you were the only ones in the world.

One of his hands moved from your waist and up your back to grip your shoulder from behind before he dipped you and gave you the most passionate kiss you had ever gotten.

it felt like the twins had let a bunch of fireworks loose in your stomach, his neck felt hot under the touch of your calloused hands and his lips melted perfectly with yours. The both of you pulled away for breath, still not breaking eye contact.

“If I get this lucky every time I wear these stupid antlers I might as well glue them to my head” he half heartedly laughed at himself while continuously ignoring everyone around you who had now decided to pay attention.

Lee’s voice rang out over the microphone.

“Y/N! I thought i told you to not lose me those five galleons” he groaned while George grinned in triumph

Oliver, who still had you dipped but was now looking up at lee, looked back down at you “you placed a bet on our kiss?” he quizzed you while an eyebrow raised.

all you could do was laugh and feel your heart swell in your chest

“sorry, love. but i was fairly confident that our first kiss was going to be my doing” you smirked and grabbed his face pulling him in for yet another kiss.

Christmas had certainly come early this year.

tags: @castieltrash1

#oliver wood #harry potter #hp imagine #oliver wood x reader #x reader #hp fic #pegswrites

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herewithmeharry · 4 years

Text

Worthwhile

Request: Hi love! Could you please write something where you have met Harry in the past (maybe 2013) and now you see each other again somewhere?? That would be amazing 🥺

Part 2

July 2013

The hotel gym was still as she pulled open the door after swiping her room card. She hadn’t expected anyone to be there, the clock on the wall indicating that it was ten minutes past midnight. She felt a surge of excitement knowing she had the room to herself and made her way towards one of the few racks of weights. After a full day of driving, she had a surprising amount of energy to burn before she could even think about going to bed. She placed her headphones over her ears, hitting shuffle on her workout playlist and beginning to stretch. With the music on full volume, she focused on counting her reps, mouthing along to the lyrics in between sets.

As she moved onto a mat on the floor, she didn’t notice him enter the room. Harry had a preference for working out late at night, finding that gyms were usually far less crowded or only occupied by business men, if at all busy. His gaze fell upon her, noticing her steady breathing and the beads of sweat running from her forehead. He headed to one of the treadmills in the corner of the room for a warmup, trying not to make his staring too obvious. The last thing he wanted was to be the guy in the gym that made her want to leave. Beginning to jog, Harry smiled to himself as he heard one of his songs coming from her side of the room. She still hadn’t seemed to acknowledge his presence.

She finished up her floor circuit, reaching for the towel she had borrowed when coming in and wiped the sweat off of her face. She took a deep breath before standing up and adjusting the waistband of her leggings, tossing the towel on the floor next to her water bottle. Shimmying along to her music, she turned to face the wall of mirrors overlooking the room. She caught Harry’s eye in the reflection, pausing momentarily as the reality of the situation set in. He offered her a smile in the mirror and she returned it shyly. His hair was held out of his face by a thin headband, black hoody covering his torso. She suddenly became aware of the song playing in her headphones and looked around for her phone, finding it in the floor pile of her belongings, lowering the volume and quickly skipping ahead to the next song. She didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable.

She glanced at the clock once more, realizing she had been there for an hour and deciding to call it quits for the night, stopping her music. She picked up the water bottle that she had emptied half way through her workout and sauntered to the water cooler. The treadmill beeped indicating the end of Harry’s warmup and he stepped off, debating whether or not to approach her. As she filled her water bottle, he mustered up the courage needed to talk to her and walked on over.

“You, uh, you didn’t have to turn down your music just because of me.” He spoke, immediately regretting his choice of opening. She turned towards him, caught off guard by the sound of his voice. He reached past her to grab a paper cup from the dispenser and fill it with water as she twisted the top back onto her bottle.

“Oh no! No, it’s fine. I just thought I was alone. Didn’t think anyone else would be here.” She admitted, sharing a reassuring smile that made Harry grin.

“It is quite late to be training, huh?” He recognized, soft chuckles leaving both their lips.

“Yeah, I just had so much energy that I needed to burn before trying to go to bed.” She explained and Harry nodded in agreement.

“What brings you to Denver?” He took a sip of his water, watching as her fingers tugged on her shirt. She considered not sharing the real origin of her travels and blaming it on a family trip, but ultimately chose to be honest with him.

“You, actually. Well, your concert.” She corrected herself, eyes falling on her shoes. Harry smiled, hands fiddling with his cup.

“I hope we make your trip worthwhile.” He quipped, eliciting a laugh from her.

“I’m sure you will.” She reassured, looking back up into his eyes and smiling timidly. Silence fell upon the both of them, Harry’s hand scratching the back of his head as he tried to find a way to keep the conversation going. Something about her drew him in. “I should probably let you get back to your workout.” He would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a twinge of disappointment as she spoke.

“Oh, right.” He nodded slowly, remembering why he had gone down to the gym.

“It was really nice meeting you, though.” She went to grab the rest of her things, pulling on her hair tie as she made her way towards the door.

“Could, um, could I possibly get your phone number?” Harry choked out, prompting her to turn back around. Her eyebrows were slightly creased, but her lips were turned upwards. “It’s just sometimes we have extra tickets, maybe I could upgrade your seats?” Harry had to resist the urge to slap his palm on his forehead as he spoke.

“You really don’t have to.” She promised, shifting her feet.

“It’s nothing, really.” He attempted to persuade her, hoping she would accept his excuse.

“Alright.” She bit her lip as she took a few steps back to him, taking his phone into her hands and filling out her contact information.

“I’ll text you later, then.” Harry offered once she finished and she beamed in response.

“Okay, yeah! That’d be great.” She tried not to smile too widely as she waved goodbye, hearing a soft ‘good night’ on her way out.

February 2016

“Hi.” Harry spoke softly, taking her into his arms as she crossed the threshold of his home. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her eyes closed and breathing in his familiar scent. Her fingers played with the curls at the base of his neck and she felt his breath against her skin as he pulled her closer. They both knew what was coming. “Missed you.”

She nodded in agreement, pulling back to look him in the eyes. Her right hand moved to cup his cheek, thumb brushing over his cheekbone.

“I missed you too.” She smiled sadly, trying to savor their last moments together. He pressed a kiss to her lips, fingers gripping the belt loops of her jeans. She withdrew after a few seconds, knowing she never would if she didn’t stop now. Harry let out a low breath, resting his forehead against hers momentarily.

“How was your flight?” He questioned, hand grasping hers lazily as he led her towards the kitchen.

“Long, actually. Couldn’t really sleep and I had to pee for half of it, but the woman next to me was sleeping and I didn’t want to wake her up.” She participated in his small talk, taking a seat on one of the barstools at the island and watching as he grabbed a glass from one of the cabinets.

“That’s what you get for always picking the window seat.” He teased, filling the glass with water and sliding it towards her.

“You know it makes me feel less sick.” She defended, hands grasping the cold drink. He laughed at her retort and leaned against the counter top, head resting in his palms. He watched her index finger swirl around the rim of the glass, her stare fixated on the cup. He noticed that she was still wearing the ring he had gifted her on their 2nd anniversary just a few months prior. He found himself thinking that maybe there was still a chance for the both of them.

“What’d you do today?” She asked, finally looking up. Harry shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, lips pursed.

“Not much, really. Slept in, tidied up a bit.” She bobbed her head, indicating that she had heard him. His answer to that question had been more or less the same for the past two months. She knew he’d been struggling since going on break. His life had been hectic and planned down to the minute for the past five years. Now, he was free to do what he wanted and he had no idea where to begin.

“Harry,” she broke their silence, voice shaking slightly. Harry rubbed his hands over his face when he heard her speak, pushing his hair out of his face.

“I know...” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

He knew it wasn’t fair to her. He knew she deserved a lot more than what he was capable of giving her at the moment.

“Don’t apologize, okay? I get it.” She rose from her chair, rounding the counter to stand next to him. “I think being alone right now will be really good for you.” Her eyes were glossy as she accepted the inevitability of their situation.

“I just wish I could figure this all out with you.” He admitted, keeping his eyes down. Her heart ached for him. She knew that he wasn’t happy.

“I know and I do too, but if we stay like this, if something doesn’t change, I don’t think you’re ever really gonna be happy.” Her words were soft as she let a tear roll down her cheek. “You’re lost, baby.”

Harry finally looked up, meeting her gaze. His eyes were red and he sniffed to stop his nose from running.

“I love you.” He whispered, letting her embrace him for what would most likely be the last time. She let herself cry with him, face nuzzled against his shoulder and hands rubbing the small of his back.

“This’ll be good for you, yeah? You can try new things and decide what you want to do next and you won’t even have to worry about finding the time to call your girlfriend.” Her remark elicited a small chuckle from Harry as she wiped at his tears.

“You’re not supposed to make me laugh right now.” He pouted. His hand found hers and their fingers intertwined. They remained quiet, basking in the little time they had left together.

“I should probably go.” She said quietly, still holding Harry’s hand.

“Can I walk you out?” He asked, clearing his throat.

“I’ll be alright.” He nodded in understanding, puffy eyes closing as she pressed one last kiss to his cheek.

“Bye.” She smiled softly, fingers untangling from his as she walked away with a small wave.

August 2018

“Hun, you need a night off.” Julian remarked as he plopped down in the chair next to her desk. She rolled her eyes at her coworker’s comment, flipping through some of the paperwork on her desk.

“You know this needs to be done by Monday, right?” She reminded, getting up from her seat and moving to the filing cabinet in the corner of her office.

“You’ve been doing overtime all week, darling.” He stated matter-of-factly, playing with one of the many stray pencils littering her workspace.

“And what exactly have you been doing all week?” She teased, sitting back down.

“You know what? It’s my friend Sarah’s birthday and we’re having a little shindig for her tonight. You,” he paused, pointing the pencil at her, “should come.”

“I don’t know,” she hesitated, looking at all of the work she still had to do. “I really need to finish this tonight.”

“How about this? If you come with me tonight, I will come in tomorrow and help you out with the rest of this. It’ll go twice as fast.” She considered his offer, realizing he did have a point. She had been spending three or four extra hours at work every night that week in order to meet her current deadline. She finally threw her hands up in defeat, accepting his proposal.

“Fine, but I expect you to be here by nine.” She bargained, starting to organize and put away the piles of papers covering the table in front of her.

“And I expect you to be ready by eight.” Julian countered, dropping the pencil before heading out of her office.

“We need to get a drink in you.” Dragging her to the crowded kitchen, Julian grabbed a red cup and filled it with the contents of multiple bottles littering the counter. She scanned the room, right hand holding onto the elbow of her opposite arm in an effort to comfort herself. She realized very quickly that she didn’t know anyone else at the party. “C’mon, drink up.”

“What did you even put in this?” She interrogated, swirling the dark mixture in her cup.

“Just trust me.” He persisted, taking a swallow of his drink as if to prove to her that it was safe to consume. She complied, taking a small sip as Julian spotted a group of friends across the room. He led her over and greeted the birthday girl with a hug before introducing his newest friend to the group.

“Happy birthday! Sorry, I feel like I’m crashing your party.” She admitted as Sarah brought her into her arms.

“Oh, nonsense! The more the merrier, as I always say.” She reassured her with a warm smile. “You look quite familiar, actually. Have we met before?”

She took a moment to really look at Sarah, her features unrecognizable to her.

“Not that I can recall.” She admitted, hoping she hadn’t completely forgotten the woman standing in front of her. Sarah simply shrugged with a giggle.

“Must be thinking of someone else.”

The group quickly fell into conversation, discussing her recent move to London for work and Sarah’s latest travels. She found herself thinking back on the times she spent traveling with Harry when she had been on break from uni, visiting a new city almost every day. Sarah’s last few months seemed to have been as fast-paced and lively as his time in the band.

Then, as if on cue, Harry entered the room. Her gaze fell on him, hair shorter than the last time she’d seem him. He was grinning as he was welcomed by other party attendees, taking the time to greet them. Like she had done when she had first arrived an hour earlier, he looked around the room. His eyes locked with hers, breath catching in his throat. She was the last person he expected to see that night. She quickly looked away, turning to Julian.

“Could you hold this for me, please?” She asked, handing him her drink. She didn’t wait for his answer before excusing herself and slipping through the crowd towards the front door. She stepped outside into the cool, late summer air and took a deep breath. She didn’t know why she had felt the need to leave when she saw him, considering their relationship had ended on a fairly good note. She had done her best over the last two years to move on, saying yes to a few dates and letting some of her friends set her up. However, she always found herself comparing potential relationships to the one she had with Harry and they never seemed to hold a candle. If she was being honest with herself, she was scared that he was always going to be the one that got away, that whoever she decided to make a life with she would only be settling for. She would keep up with him in the media, genuinely happy that he had been able to find himself after they parted ways, but it was slightly bittersweet to see such a confident version of him, knowing it stemmed from their breakup.

“Y/N?” Harry’s voice brought her out of her thoughts, urging her to turn around slowly. He was standing at the top of the steps leading to the front door, signature crooked smile stretching across his lips as he saw her.

“Hi.” She spoke softly, offering a small smile in return. He stepped down to meet her on the walkway, arms opening to embrace her. She let him wrap his arms around her like he had done so many times before, hand rubbing her back. He still smelt the same.

“What are you doing here?” He questioned as she pulled back, arms crossing in front of her chest.

“A friend invited me to come along with him.” She explained, thumb pointing towards the house as if to prove that he was inside. Harry nodded, smile never faltering.

“How long are you in town for?” She remembered that she hadn’t informed him of her move to the city and wondered why they hadn’t spoken since their split.

“I actually moved here a few months back for work.” His smile widened into a grin as he listened to her response. She tried to catch him up on the last couple of years, answering any and all questions he had as they sat on the front steps. Harry felt calmed by her familiar voice and regretted not reaching out to her earlier. They spoke of her work and then of his, the tour he had just finished up overseas and her graduation from university. She was surprised at how easy everything still was with him and recognized how ridiculous her running away earlier had been. She couldn’t tell you how long they had been sitting outside when Julian finally came looking for her.

“There you are! Been looking all over for you.” They both shifted to look at him, somewhat startled by the unknown voice. “Thought you might be ready to go.”

She quickly glanced at Harry as he pushed back his hair. She bobbed her head, forcing herself up from her seat. “Can I meet you at the car?” She was hoping he would understand that she needed another minute with Harry. Julian’s stare moved from her to Harry then back to her, slowly nodding in response.

“I’ll go grab our things.” He flashed her a smirk accompanied by a wink and retreated into the house. She rolled her eyes, chuckle leaving her lips as she turned back to Harry.

“It was really nice to see you again.” She spoke honestly, finding herself not wanting to say goodbye.

“Yeah, missed talking to you.” He admitted with a timid smile. As he glanced at his feet, she saw a glimpse of the 19-year-old boy she had met so many years ago.

“Me too.” She confirmed, brief silence falling between them. “Well, I should probably go. Gotta work tomorrow.”

“Right, yeah.” Harry took her into another hug, squeezing her frame closer. She didn’t pull back as quickly this time, enjoying being close to him again. She finally withdrew herself from his arms and took a few steps back along the walkway. “I’ll see you later?”

“I would love that.” She beamed, giving a little wave before turning away from Harry and continuing down the path.

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