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thnxforknowingme · 3 years ago

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In Orbit (30/?)

Pairing: Klaine

Rating: T-ish? Very low M?

Fic Summary: Blaine starts attending NYU, and he and Kurt weave in and out of each other’s lives - as friends, exes, friends with benefits, and harder-to-define labels - while they navigate college, relationships, and adulthood in New York.

Notes: Now that Klaine Advent and the holidays are over, I should be back to approximately-weekly updates of this fic!

Read on AO3 | All chapters

Da da da-da da daaaa.

Blaine clicked his tongue. Not quite. Da da da-da da da-daaa…? No, not right either.

He took his hands off of the electric keyboard balanced next to him on his bed and examined the notation paper in his lap. He inspected his handwritten notes, erased one, and then tried out the new chord on the keyboard. No, he decided, that was the worst one yet.

Sometimes writing music was like magic. He’d always had the passion, the ability to get lost in music, to pour his whole heart and soul into a song. As he’d gained more technical composing skills in college - learning the theory behind the notes and chords, understanding music not just as a feeling but as a physical reality - he’d learned how to approach songs as puzzles to be solved, things to be built with the tools at his disposal. Sometimes those things meshed well - he had the spark of an idea, a feeling he wanted to convey, a mood he wanted to create, and he could just do it, the knowledge he’d cultivated right there on the tip of his tongue, and a song could pour out of him in an afternoon. It was never perfect on the first try, but in those lucky moments it did sort of feel like he’d been struck with divine inspiration.

And then there were nights like this, when all of the notes just seemed wrong, and no matter how he tweaked it he couldn’t achieve the sound he was looking for.

He heard footsteps from the other side of his makeshift walls, and then Kurt’s soft voice. “Hey, Blaine?”

“Yeah,” Blaine replied, which was another way of saying come in.

Kurt understood, and pulled aside the curtain. He was wearing clothes for lounging around - a white henley, a worn cardigan, sweatpants that still managed to hug his thighs in a very appealing way. Blaine could see the slightest of dark circles under his eyes, but knew that he would never, ever mention them aloud to Kurt.

“Could you use headphones?” Kurt asked. “I just - I have an article due tomorrow and I cannot get my brain to work.”

Blaine flicked the power switch on the keyboard to OFF. “I’m having the same issue,” he replied. “As you could probably tell.”

Kurt smirked. “You have been playing the same couple measures over and over.”

Blaine set his pencil and sheet music on the bedside table, then opened his arms, an invitation. Kurt rolled his eyes, but stepped forward, settling on Blaine’s lap so he could wind his arms around him.

Blaine pressed his face into the crook of Kurt’s neck, breathing deeply. “Just two more days,” he said. “Then we’re on break.”

Blaine pulled back, Kurt’s arms resting on his shoulders, one hand toying with the hair at the back of his neck. “Two days,” Kurt repeated, “and we’re off to Ohio, for five blissful days without school.”

Thanksgiving break, and they were both going home. They’d brave the hell of LaGuardia over a holiday weekend and head west, for elaborate meals with family and probably an informal glee club reunion.

“We can survive two days,” Blaine said, and Kurt hummed an affirmative response.

Blaine pressed his lips to the underside of Kurt’s jaw, letting his teeth scrape against the slightest of stubble there. He felt Kurt shiver.

“Blaine,” he chastised. “I have to go finish writing. I don’t have time.”

“But Kurt,” Blaine whined overdramatically. “You taste so good.”

“I’ll taste the same after I finish my post.”

Blaine peppered a few kisses against the soft skin of Kurt’s neck. “If you say so.”

He loosened his grip around Kurt’s waist, but Kurt didn’t get up. Instead, his fingers brushed over the back of Blaine’s neck, slipping down to trace along the edge of his shirt collar.

“I thought you had to go write,” Blaine teased.

“Maybe I could use a break,” Kurt said, looking dark-eyed at Blaine. “Just a quick one.”

Blaine felt his whole body jolt with heat. “I’d be happy to give you a quick break.”

He leaned back onto the bed, pulling Kurt with him. Kurt hovered above him, his eyes raking over Blaine, and Blaine felt itchy with anticipation. Finally Kurt leaned in, breath ghosting over Blaine’s skin, and kissed him. His tongue swiped across Blaine’s lower lip, and Blaine eagerly opened his mouth, happy to taste Kurt deeper. He gripped Kurt’s waist, thumbs brushing against the bottom of his rib cage, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt.

Kurt pulled back and let out a breathy laugh. “God, how am I gonna keep my hands off you for five days?”

“What?” Blaine asked, trying to divert his thoughts from Kurt’s mouth and Kurt’s skin and Kurt’s hips.

Kurt moved his hand to brush his fingers over Blaine’s clavicle where it peeked above his shirt. “Over Thanksgiving. It’s gonna be so weird to be around you and not be able to touch you.”

Blaine felt suddenly like he’d been smacked, the pleasant haze of arousal quickly fading. “So, when we go home, you’re just going to act like we’re...nothing?”

Kurt’s eyebrows creased. “No,” he said, and Blaine felt a wash of relief before he added, “I mean, I’ll treat you like my friend. And roommate.”

Blaine propped himself up on his elbows, forcing Kurt to sit up as well. He stared at Kurt, his mouth slightly open, but didn’t know what to say.

“What, Blaine?” Kurt asked, looking confused and maybe annoyed. “You want to go home and announce to all our friends and family that we’re fucking?”

Blaine was by no means a prude, and generally found it quite hot when Kurt swore, but the way he’d said it then just seemed crass, and an uneasy feeling filled Blaine’s stomach. “No,” he replied. “But I also don’t want to pretend that we’re something we’re not. I don’t want this to be some...dirty secret, something to be ashamed of.”

Kurt sighed, sitting up straight and looking away. “It’s not like that, Blaine. You know I’m not ashamed of you. I just don’t want people to know about our private lives. You know it’ll be weird, it’ll just open up more questions and assumptions.”

Blaine blinked at him. “So you don’t want people to assume we’re dating.”

“No,” Kurt replied tersely, “because we’re not.”

He disentangled himself from Blaine, standing up. Blaine felt abruptly cold in his absence. “I know that,” Blaine said softly.

“Then act like it,” Kurt snapped, crossing his arms. “Of course we’re not going to tell people at home. Have you even told anyone?”

Blaine pulled his legs onto the bed, folding them against his chest. “Sho knows.” He still hadn’t told Effie about the change in his and Kurt’s relationship, but that was just because she’d always been a little judgmental about Kurt.

“And I’ve told Rachel,” Kurt replied. “That’s all. Because it would be weird to talk about my sex life to everyone.”

Blaine couldn’t argue with that logic, but on the other hand, it didn’t feel right. Because it wasn’t just sex - it wasn’t transactional like that, it wasn’t as though sometimes they were just normal roommates and sometimes they were people who had sex. Every aspect of their relationship was a part of the rest of their lives together. It was that they could flirt and compliment each other amid casual conversation. It was that they could communicate wordlessly because they knew each other so well, just sharing a glance or a gesture or an expression, whether it was across the apartment or when they were in bed together. It was that while they were having sex they could laugh at something they’d been talking about earlier over dinner. It was all tangled together, the whole of their relationship, the way they felt about each other.

“So then why aren’t we just together?” Blaine asked suddenly. “You’re my best friend, and we’re living together, and sleeping together. You haven’t been dating anyone, and neither have I - you can’t tell me you don’t have feelings for me, Kurt.”

Kurt looked at him, his expression unreadable. Finally he sighed, the line of his mouth hardening, and said, “Blaine, I can’t. I can’t be someone who - who breaks up with someone and then gets back together with them. It never works.” He paused before adding, “especially when the reason we broke up is because you cheated on me.”

Blaine scoffed, feeling anger rise under his skin. “Kurt, it’s been years since we were together. Do you not think we’ve both - grown? That we’re not ready for that? Do you really believe I would ever do that again? After what we’ve both been through?” When Kurt didn’t answer, Blaine desperately asked, “Are you saying that you don’t love me?”

“I never stopped loving you, Blaine!” Kurt’s voice erupted from his throat, his eyes bright and his cheekbones flushed with emotion. “That’s what was so goddamn scary. Even after you’d - betrayed my trust, treated me like I didn’t matter, done such a terrible thing to me...I still loved you so much, and I missed you so much.” He wiped at the tear that had fallen down his cheek, and when he spoke again his voice cracked. “And what the hell does that mean? What does that say about what I think about myself? What would I have let you get away with, and go on loving you? Don’t I deserve better than that? So yes, I love you. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.” He took a deep, wavering breath. “But I can’t just...forget what happened, or forget what that meant.”

When he finished speaking, the room was quiet except for their ragged breaths. Blaine couldn’t pinpoint how he felt. Like he’d been punched, maybe, or drenched in water. Like he’d been handed a precious thing and then seen it destroyed immediately. Like he was equally sad and angry, equally guilty and grieving. He stared at Kurt, who looked so broken, so undone with hurt, yet stubbornly standing his ground.

“This…” Blaine finally managed. “I just, I can’t do this anymore,” he said, not realizing until he spoke it aloud that it was true. Everything had seemed so perfect until just moments ago, when reality came crashing into the little paradise they’d created over the past several weeks. “I can’t do things halfway with you. If you want to - work through things, to talk about the past, to build our trust...if you still don’t trust me after all this time, then let’s fix that. I’m willing to work on that. But I can’t just have this - this bare minimum relationship with you. I want everything with you.”

Maybe he’d known this all along and had just been studiously ignoring that reality, but Blaine knew now that this was true. He loved being with Kurt, in every way - and he wanted to do it for real. He needed to, because the idea of going to Lima and acting like he and Kurt were just friends, that they didn’t feel all the things they really felt about each other, made him sick.

He watched Kurt, trying to gauge his emotions. They’d known each other so well, for so long, but he still couldn’t be sure what Kurt was going to do next.

Kurt blinked, more tears falling, and he looked away. “...I can’t, Blaine,” he breathed. “I can’t do that.”

And it was like something cracked inside Blaine, something about him suddenly wrong. It was like everything in the world tilted sideways, and he didn’t know how to catch his balance.

He stood and turned away from Kurt. He picked up the notation notebook on his bedside table, and grabbed his phone. He moved past Kurt so he could pick up his school bag and put his notebook inside. He knelt on the ground, looked under his bed, and pulled out the duffel bag he kept stored there. He stood back up and moved to his dresser, starting to pull out clothing.

“Blaine,” Kurt finally said, breaking the silence. “What are you doing?”

Blaine didn’t trust his voice, trying to focus on what clothing he would need. He opened another drawer to get pajamas. He’d need to grab his toothbrush, he realized.

“Blaine,” Kurt prompted again, his voice still thick.

“I’m going to spend the night at Sho’s,” Blaine replied mechanically. His clothing was going to be wrinkled with the way he was shoving it into the bag, but he didn’t care. He got his phone charger and then glanced around the room, pointedly ignoring Kurt, trying to think of anything else he’d need for class the next day.

“You don’t have to - “ Kurt began.

“I’m going,” Blaine cut him off, pushing past the curtain to exit his room.

Kurt watched him, but didn’t protest again as he got his toiletries from the bathroom, put on his shoes and coat, and left the loft. He texted Sho that he was on his way as he walked through the miserably cold air to the subway station. It was going to be a long ride into Manhattan.

#fic: in orbit #my fic #klaine fic #klaine fanfiction #this chapter is important to me but also i'm sorry

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trillian-anders · 5 years ago

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the assistant

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

warnings: violence, angst, fluff, smut && SPOILERS

word count: 6.8k

description: part 1 of 5. CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS, PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT WATCHED THE FILM. you’ve been working for the thrombeys for four years now, the last three years of your service being a glorified babysitter to the most annoying, self-absorbed, dickhead hugh ransom drysdale.

You wanted to smack that dumb smirk off his stupid dumb face.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale. The bane of your fucking existence. Standing there with that stupid fucking smirk on his face, he fucking loved this. Watching as you cleaned up his mess. A crying girl on his doorstep and you, his assistant (aka babysitter), trying to calm her down enough to get her to leave his house. This dumb contemporary floor to ceiling windowed, minimalist, empty souled house. The girl had been picked up at a bar last night. Charmed by his handsome face, the money he was careless to spend, the way he spoke to you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world.

It was a fucking joke. A trick. You’ve seen it a million times and you’d be willing you bet that you’d see it a million more.

The door blocked her view of him, your clear view of him from the side, sipping on a mug of coffee in his hands and fucking smirking.

“He won't even see me?” You hated when they cried. Like each of them had this idea that they’d go home with Ransom Drysdale and fuck him so good that he’d tie them to his bed and never let them leave or something.

You sighed heavily before replying, “Mr. Drysdale has business to attend to, he’s unavailable at the moment, but I can leave him a message if you’d like?” You did this maybe five or six times a week. In the early morning hours, after his sexual escapade and some rest, Ransom would wake early and leave for the gym. In that time you were supposed to ‘take out the trash’ as he described it. This morning, the girl left dazed and confused in the fog taking an uber back to her home, but returning an hour later trying to plead her case. It was giving you a migraine.

The girl stepped back from the porch, shoes crunching against the gravel as she searched the windows for his face. “FUCK YOU RANSOM.” She shouted, flipping the bird into the air. The man hiding to your right, choked on his coffee in laughter as you watched the girl get back into her car and disappear from sight.

“What's on the agenda today Ransom,” You shut the door quietly, turning to face him, “Because if I have to do that again tomorrow I’ll quit.” He scoffed in indignation.

“You’re not gonna quit,” He drained the rest of his mug, “You can’t even leave the house long as you got that.” He gestured towards your leg. Sitting firmly on your right ankle was a house arrest bracelet. One meant for him, but carefully bribed into being put on your own leg. The stupid son of a bitch got away with murder, after the death of his late Grandfather’s housekeeper by his own hand and the attempted murder of the girl that got the entire Thrombey fortune, he stayed the lucky son of a bitch he had been his entire life.

Evidence was mishandled, not enough proof. That whole, ‘beyond reasonable doubt’ thing. The rich asshole got fucking house arrest and court mandated therapy. Even after there were three fucking witnesses to him attempting to murder Marta Cabrera.

Money oiled the gears of the justice system, letting the trust fund baby slip through without consequence. That’s where you come in.

You worked for the Thrombey’s before. As a tutor to Meg when she began to fail her english class. For whatever reason, Lynda and Richard Drysdale liked you, assigned you a new task. Their sweet baby boy Hugh, called Ransom by everyone but the Help. You’ve worked for Ransom for three years now. The first year before the death of his Grandfather and Thrombey patriarch, and now two years after his death and wouldn’t you know it. Hugh Ransom Drysdale wrote a fucking bestseller.

Everyone wanted an insight into this family. Harlan Thrombey always said there was so much of him in Ransom. He wasn’t lying.

Ransom wrote the first of what you knew would be many new Thrombey family murder mystery novels. And he was reaping in the cash. He was two months away from his next big release. Something you’re sure would fly off the shelves just as quickly as the first.

“Don’t worry,” He said, “I’ve got a deadline to meet.” His coffee mug abandoned by the front door for you to clean up, he left you to officially start your day. He retreated into the study he created for himself to crank out the last four chapters he needed for his book, maybe.

Due to circumstances beyond your control, you were the one placed on house arrest. As long as no one was notified that Ransom left the perimeter of the house you were being paid well, and you being paid well meant your younger sister gets taken care of. You were able to send her money every month to help with the fact that she was staying with an estranged aunt. It hadn’t been easy once your mother died, but the Thrombey’s lighten the load so to say.

That’s why you were washing Ransom’s sheets that reeked of sex, picking up and disposing of torn panties and tossing used condoms the fucking dick couldn’t be bothered enough to toss two more feet into the trash can in his on-suite. You’d invested in rubber gloves.

On days that Ransom had to meet with his probation officer he would wear a dummy bracelet. It got him by and soon the fucker would be over and done with house arrest all together. You’d be able to move back home then. Hopefully.

“Ransom, you ever gonna eat today?” You knocked on the open door of his study, bringing his attention from his computer to you, who held a bowl of pasta in your one hand. He sighed, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes. There were multicolored post-its surrounding his computer. Your mind made the connection with how similar it was to his Grandfather’s own workspace. You gently placed the bowl on his desk, turning to pour him a tumbler of whiskey from the small bar in the corner of the room.

“I don’t know how the old bastard ever cranked out two books a year,” His neck cracked. “How is that even possible?” He took a large bite of the pasta, squinting at the screen. His eyes quickly shifted to yours, watching you set down the glass of whiskey in front of him. He grabbed your wrist. “Stay.” It was an order. “Sit.” You took your place in a chair across from him.

“Harlan wrote every day,” You told him, “You write whenever you’re not off sticking your dick into anything that breathes.” He laughed at that.

“Not everything that breathes,” He typed a few more words into the word document, “I haven’t fucked you yet.” Your core pulsed, he said yet.

Audibly you scoffed, “I would never willingly fuck you Ransom.” You pulled your legs up onto the chair to make yourself comfortable. He smirked at that, eyes not leaving the computer screen.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” That stupid smirk. You hated that fucking smirk. So condescending.

When you first met Ransom you were probably very much like the girls that you now pry out of his bed at 8 am. You had been tutoring Meg at the family home, sitting at the kitchen table going over Othello when he sauntered in, digging through the cabinets for snacks. You could feel Meg tense up next to you and that’s when he turned. He was so fucking pretty. Blue eyes, well kept hair, cashmere sweater, those broad fucking shoulders, and on his face, stretching that full bottom lip you wanted to tug between your teeth, was a smirk.

That pulsing throb between your thighs soon was quickly forgotten as he opened his mouth and began to speak, “How’s it going Meg, trouble reading? Or do they not teach you how to read when you’re a liberal? Lord knows you guys never fucking understand anything anyway.” Meg snapped back at him, but you were stunned. You could tell he said that on purpose, knowing it would make her go off on the tangent he was now, finding a sick pleasure in it. That was the first time you’d seen the smirk. You’d lost count of how many times you’ve seen it since then.

“I really hate you Ransom.” You sighed, sinking further into your chair. He had almost finished off the bowl of pasta by now, whiskey long since emptied. He thinks it’s funny, you hating him because he responds looking you in your eyes, maintaining his smirk,

“I know you do baby.” He liked to do that. Call you pet names. Once he had even pretended you were his wife when you accidentally walked in on him and a girl he had been balls deep in, bent over the back of the couch. He fucking LOVED that one. The girl had cried, embarrassed, apologizing as she picked her bra up from the floor and slunk out the front door behind you. That was a while ago. Pre-Murder. You should have seen it then. How insane he actually was.

Ransom was incredibly smart and was a quick thinker. It was part of the reason that he had gotten away with murder in the first place. You knew that. It showed in his novel. He would have you read chapters, give him your opinion, before writing and rewriting. Showing you again. He’d ask you if you could figure out who was the murderer, a sinister glint in his eyes, arms crossed, standing above you waiting. He could only be satisfied if you didn’t have a clue.

It was a gift, you supposed, the ease in which he wrote to make every character a possible suspect in completely new and incredible scenarios. He had three books in various states of completion that he was chipping away at, the one he was currently working on seemingly better than the previous published.

His Mother, the one who gave him the silver spoon and cursed him for having it his whole life, was suddenly proud of him. His Father, now divorced from his Mother, would come by weekly asking for money. Ransom loved that too. His Dad got nothing due to the prenup, leaving him penniless. The cushy job he had at Lynda’s real estate empire was gone, and now Dad was working at local agency scraping by on low commission. Last week his Father came to the door while Ransom was writing and muscled his way not too kindly past you into the house.

“Ransom!” He called, finding his way into his son’s study. You quietly shut the door, returning to folding laundry. The door shut tightly behind him and sounds had been muffled. It’s only when their voices went from calm to a screaming match did the door wretch open and Ransom followed his Dad out, both red faced.

“We’ve given you everything in your fucking life and you can’t even give one iota back.” Ransom opened the front door, gesturing to the porch.

“Get the fuck out, and don’t come back.” His voice stern and commanding.

“Fuck you Ransom.” With that he was gone. The silence that had settled over the house was thick, Ransom’s hand still resting against the closed door before he took a breath and, without taking a glance in your direction, returned to his study. Closing the door.

The echo of that argument sat in the house for the rest of the day, Ransom leaving soon after to find a body to lose himself in. If the murder trial did anything, it made Ransom into a bad boy and girls fucking loved it. He wasn’t, technically, guilty after all.

You attempted to clear the bowl in front of him, but was stopped by his hand. His eyes never left the screen as he brought your hand to his lips, placing a kiss in your palm, before dragging your arm to his other shoulder, hugging himself with it awkwardly until you gave in and wrapped your other arm around him, holding him tightly for a moment.

He was soft sometimes. His Mom never held him when he was a kid. He was left alone a lot while she was building her empire. Babysitters never stayed long, nannies came and went. Sometimes you truly felt bad for him, other times you remember that he was a dick and that he loved to play tricks and torment anyone and everyone that was supposed to take care of him, including you. The only difference was you weren’t able to leave.

He let you go soon after that, letting you clean up the mess from dinner and stoke the fire place warming the house that always seemed too cold. As you stood by the fire, arms wrapped around yourself you could feel him behind you, coming to wrap his arms around your waist, leaning his head on your shoulder as you stared into the flames. There was a moment or two of silence as you both stood there.

If this were any other situation, if Ransom loved you, if this was someone who loved you, if this someone cared enough to care about the things you care about, this would be kind of romantic. But it’s Ransom, and he didn’t care about anyone but himself, he definitely didn’t care about you, and he one hundred percent didn’t care about anything you care about. “I’m going out.”

His arms left your waist and his chest left your back leaving you cold. “For fucks sake Ransom, I don’t feel like throwing out a girl tomorrow morning.” You turned to watch him throwing his coat on. He smirked. He fucking smirked.

“I’ll give you a break and throw her out myself then.” And he was gone.

Hours later you’re woken by the sound of Ransom coming home, sure enough he wasn’t alone. Soft giggles and a bang, he’s shoved her against the wall beside your room. There were muffled groans as you assumed she found her knees right there in the hallway. He got off on this shit, you knew. Often stopping somewhere outside your door to start his sexual escapades. Knowing you were mere feet away, like some half-assed exhibitionism. It wasn’t long after that the girl squealed and there was more muffled talking before they moved to his bedroom. To which you shared a wall.

Your bedroom, before you were a live-in, housed a bunch of items you believed graced a teen boy’s bedroom walls at one point. And still, shoved in the corner, were playboy model cardboard cutouts, “They’re vintage, mint condition, and worth a lot.” Sure, Ransom, sure they are. Arcade games, framed patriots jerseys, a lacrosse set from his high school days. You were shoved in the middle of it all, a single bed shoved against the wall surrounded by what once was a room full of teenage boy memorabilia. A shrine to his youth.

The headboard soon came knocking and hope for sleep was lost. The girl’s moans escalating to shrieks. Either he was as good as he says, or these girls really care about his ego. Either could be true when there’s more than one comma in your bank account.

The kitchen was much quieter. A steady rocking still came from upstairs, but thankfully it was muffled by the floor. As you made a cup of tea you figured you would see if he had printed off a new chapter ready for you to read. You hope he wouldn’t have gone out without finishing it anyway.

You were not sure why you cared to be honest. You had this love/hate for Ransom. He was an annoying prick who did something really fucking horrible, but he also made it very clear to everyone involved that you had nothing to do with it. There was a scary moment there, after his arrest, when you were brought to the station for interrogation. You hadn’t known he had even gotten up to any of these crimes. He kept you completely in the dark and he was sure to let his arresting officers know that. You hadn’t even seen him since the night Harlan died when he left the party stranding you at the estate.

Money does crazy things to people. The threat of his steady income leaving was enough to push him to do something crazy. He was lucky enough that the recorded confession magically was erased. He was lucky for dirty cops. He was lucky that even though his mother despised his lifestyle she didn’t want him to go to prison. He was so lucky. Now with his first novel sitting highly on the bestseller list, he seemed even more lucky than he did before.

His study was on the opposite side of the house from his bedroom, muffling the sounds enough for you to flip through the packet left on top of his keyboard. Three chapters away from completion you were following the detective through paces where things felt more confusing than ever, the clues were unclear and there was not much to go on, but the tension between the eldest son of the victim and his ex-wife were mounting and it was hard to believe that maybe this guy had nothing to do with it despite what was described as an ‘air-tight’ alibi. You read through the chapter twice, scribbling your thoughts in red pen along the margins.

“What do you think?” You jumped in your chair, looking up to see Ransom in the doorway.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Your hand still clutching your chest. He had a glass of water in his hand, chest bare, solid navy pajama pants slung low on his hips. His chest hair always got you, just a little bit. He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth and pushed off the door jam to walk into the room, taking a seat in the chair you occupied hours ago. “It’s good,” you cleared your throat, “I’m not sure how much longer I can wait for you to finish to be honest.” He chuckled softly.

“Let me see.” You handed him the packet and his eyes scanned the margins, reading your comments. They were mostly reactions, that’s what he liked. He wanted to know how you reacted to everything he put in front of you, did you like the romance, the tension, the lust he was trying to write between the ex-husband and wife? Or was it too distracting from the plot? Is the detective too unbelievable? He’s a character for sure. Can you figure out whodunnit yet?

“What are you doing out of bed?” You asked, spinning the chair side to side, waiting for him to put the packet down.

“I told you I was going to kick her out.” He took another sip from his water. You scoffed,

“And you couldn’t start doing this sooner?” A smile stretched his lips,

“I like how much it bothers you.”

“It’s annoying,” you said, “Worst way to start my day.” He laughed.

“That’s the only reason?” He asked, throwing the packet back on the desk, leaning back in his chair. Smirking.

“You’re such an asshole, you know that?” You pushed back from the desk, moving to exit the room. He quickly grabbed your wrist, tugging you over to his side where he looked up at you,

“If you wanna take their place, just let me know.” Your other hand came up to smack him on his shoulder, causing him to laugh as he released you, letting you take your exit.

“Dick.”

You found him the next morning at his desk, looking as though he had very little sleep. “Babe could you get me some coffee?” You yawned in the doorway,

“Sure.” It didn’t take long before you were setting the cup in front of him. “Your therapist is coming by at one.” He nodded, not looking up from his computer. “I’ll come get you when it’s time for you to get ready.”

He was focused. You weren’t sure where this focus came from. It was every once in a while that he would find this stroke of inspiration and write for a whole day straight. Hopefully he will be finished his book before schedule and be able to get ahead for the next one.

Soon he was washed, dressed, and ready for the one person he dreads the most. He hated therapy sessions. There were only ten more he needed to do before the court mandate was over. Ten more weeks until you were able to get this lovely ankle bracelet off when you would hopefully be able to go back to the routine you had with him before. Where you’d sleep in your own shitty apartment and show up to work a 9 to 9 five days a week.

After sessions he was always moody, quiet, and tended to need his favorite single malt restocked the next day. Not exactly in line with how he should be tending to whatever revelation the therapist has been streamlining him to, but that wasn’t any of your business. You could say though that during the last 42 weeks of sessions this refractory period was shortening to less and less time, maybe tonight you won't be peeling him off the floor of the study and dragging him up to his room drunk off his ass.

While in the session you were trying not to listen in on, you were sunk heavily on the living room couch, drinking coffee and reading the latest chapter he had slapped into your hands before entering back into his study. The book was so close to being finished, the last two chapters leading you to the big reveal and aftermath. The climax was steady taking hold and you were more sure than ever that the eldest son had something to do with it. You didn’t know what he did, but it was something.

He looked mad enough to kill as the Doctor left. Slamming the door, barely missing the Doctor’s jacket sleeve as he made his hasty retreat. Ransom stood seething for a moment by the front door, a chill running down your spine. He had murdered someone before, something you try to forget seeing as you are forced to spend so much time with him. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. It felt like an hour before he moved.

“I’m going out.” The words spoken sternly as he stomped his way up the stairs like a petulant child, returning moments later, cleaned up, eyes blank, before grabbing his coat and slamming the door loud enough to make you jump.

Aside from Ransom’s Mother never being around and aside from his Father’s string of extramarital affairs and aside from his Grandfather’s need to push him in every direction but close, you wish you could say that Ransom had a good childhood. But he didn’t. When he was little the kids picked on him for being rich, and when he was bigger they only became friends with him because he was rich. He was such a bully. At least, that’s what his Mother told you once drunk off chardonnay at his birthday dinner last year.

Disappointment.

That was a clear sentiment for the small family get together, and by small family get together you meant the dinner you cooked and Ransom looking like he’d rather be in prison than listen to his parents bicker over his Father’s new (Not so new seeing as he’d been caught kissing her by a PI before Harlan’s death) girlfriend. She was smart enough not to come.

This night was looking a lot like that one. Ransom, after his parents left and you began to tidy up, began to scream at you.

“What gave you the fucking right you dumb bitch?” He was spitting, face red as you cleared the dishes. “You’re only here for the money. The fucking money. How much is she paying you huh?” The bottle of expensive whiskey he had been drinking throughout the night was in his hand, swinging it around and taking pulls straight from the bottle. “Not enough obviously because you would have let me fuck you a long time ago.”

Your face flushed red as your own anger began to rise. He continued, “Never, ever, fucking again will you allow my parents in this house, do you understand me?” His unoccupied hand grabbed your arm tight enough to bruise, turning you to face him. His eyes wild and unfocused. “I said do you understand me?” You not so gently wretched your arm from his.

“Don’t touch me.” He always fucking did this. Blamed you for things you had no control over. Lynda approached you about a dinner for Ransom’s birthday. It was her name in your paystubs. You can’t say no.

“How dare you-” He began, but was cut short.

“No Ransom. No.” Like scolding a fucking dog who put his paws on the table. You threw the bowl you currently had in your hands into the sink, turning to fully face him. “I am only here for the money and I am only here because your Mother pays me a lot to be here.” His jaw clenched. “But I’m also here because I’m the only fucking person who even remotely cares about your ungrateful prissy spoiled ass and if it wasn’t for me you’d be sitting in this fucking glass house, alone, with only your own self-righteous attitude to keep you company. So don’t you ever touch me like that again. Do you understand?”

He loudly clunked the bottle onto the kitchen island, stumbling in your direction as you backed yourself into the sink. His trial had just concluded two weeks ago, Fran’s murder fresh on your mind and you wondered if you just made a terrible mistake. Over the course of this rant, the alcohol was sinking into his bloodstream, it turned his anger into a crippling depression. One that resulted in his hands softly grasping your shoulders, and tugging you into his body. His face found your neck and slowly started to grow damp with what you realized were his tears.

Your heart broke a bit, too much empathy, even for this asshole. Your arms came to wrap around his shoulders, letting him cry it out.

That was the first and only time you saw Ransom cry over anything. If he hadn’t been as drunk as he was you knew that moment would never have happened. The sweet little moment that made your heart ache was quickly gone the next morning when Ransom made you coffee and thought it would be hilarious that after you thanked him for being so sweet he joked that he poisoned it. You could still recall the cackles of laughter as you spit your coffee into the sink.

That was the day he began writing his first novel.

He came home alone tonight which was strange. And far earlier than normal. You usually were in bed, or holed up in his study by the time he arrived him after a night out. Staying out of his way as he drug a bubbly hopeful girl up to his bed to satisfy his own needs for the night. He found you tonight, sitting outside, watching Netflix on your tablet by the firepit you had decided to light, a hot cup of tea sitting on the end table next to you. Cozy and wrapped in a blanket.

You could feel his eyes on you from the doorway. You tapped the screen, pausing your show and turned to look at him. His hair was slightly mussed, face flushed, and socked toes curling from the chill. He was looking at you strangely.

“You’re home early.” You placed the tablet down on the end table, turning to face him. He nodded, crossing his arms and leaning against the door jam.

“I just needed a drive.” There was a soft smile on his face, well that’s new.

“Is everything okay?” He never tells you anything, but the sentiment matters. He looked to his feet, nodding.

“I’m probably going to try to stay up and finish the book tonight.” He shifted himself back into the house, your voice calling out to him,

“Come sit out here for a bit. It’s calming, just take a break from thinking for a minute.” He sighed and looked at you again, debating something in his head.

“I need to be alone.” You tried anyway. He disappeared from sight. And that was that.

The next day Ransom began acting even more strangely. The book was finished, the last two chapters handed wordlessly to you as he left for the gym on what you’re assuming was no sleep. That wasn’t the strange part. The strange part was when he returned three hours later bearing a box of donuts from your favorite bakery and two lattes, on his face was a smile.

“What did you do?” You accused, “Did you poison this?” You gestured towards the latte he placed in your hand.

“No.” He laughed, sliding the box of donuts to you. You stared at him skeptically before taking a sip. Tastes normal.

“Are you sick?” Your wrist coming to lay across his forehead, temperature feels fine.

“No.” He laughed again, pulling your wrist from his forehead and kissing your palm before opening the box of donuts, pulling a cinnamon sugar donut to his lips. “You just told me the other day how you missed these and I figured since I passed the shop on the way back it wouldn’t hurt to go pick some up.” It was suspicious. You continued to look at him skeptically. He sighed, placing the donut on the counter, grabbing the latte from your hand he took a large sip of it. “I didn’t fucking poison you Y/N.”

Okay.

Okay. You examined the box of donuts, pulling out the bear claw that was begging to be eaten. Still warm. You moaned in delight as soon as the warm pastry hit your taste buds. You really had missed these. Opening your eyes, you saw Ransom staring blankly at you before his eyes shifted to the packet by your side.

“All finished?” You swallowed and nodded, sliding the packet marked with red over to him and as he began to study your notes you tried to think about what could have possibly gotten him in such a good mood. The Doctor’s visit was odd enough. Yes he was angry when the Doctor left, but then just a drive? Not a blackout drunk, bringing two girls home to pleasure himself with and accidentally falling into a line or two of coke night, but a drive?

Maybe therapy had been working? Maybe he had a breakthrough? He finished the novel. The eldest son had something to do with it, his airtight alibi just that, a cover for the crime having been committed at a different time than the coroner’s estimated time frame due to him freezing the body and allowing it to thaw in the house.

You had asked Harlan how he came up with such incredible stories once. He said they just popped into his head fully formed, his brain moving faster than his fingers. He kept a little notebook with good ideas and would simmer in them as long as it took for a stroke of inspiration. The rest was just typing.

He smirked at some of your comments, ‘what a fucking joke’ you wrote next to the eldest son’s monologue about being passed over, his whining, annoying, self centered crying about how life wasn’t fair.

“What’s the smirk for?” You asked, removing the lid of your latte and dipping part of the bear claw in it.

“The lack of sympathy for Greg.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“He’s a fucking loser.” Ransom’s eyes met yours, “I bet you see a lot of yourself in him.” That made him laugh.

“What? You don’t like spoiled rich men?” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest. You rolled your eyes, taking another sip from the milky sweet latte you didn’t know would feel like your life’s blood right now.

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“I think you find me endearing.” Ransom smirked. Your neck flushed.

“I find you annoying,” You admitted. “I only put up with you because of my paycheck.” He licked his lips.

“Sure,” He closed the packet, pushing it aside to take another bite of the donut, cinnamon sugar dusting his lips. “You put up with me because you’re secretly in love with me, but you know that I would never get with The Help.” This made you laugh.

“If you want me to be the Help I’ll gladly call you Hugh if it means you leave me alone.” He placed his paper cup on the counter, circling around to you.

“I like when you call me Hugh.” His hands came to rest on your upper arms, grinning.

“You’re disgusting.” He laughed at the clear displeasure on your face, spinning your stool around to him, and you leaned back, creating some distance as he came to stand between your legs.

“You don’t mean that do you baby?” His fingers toying with the ends of your hair. You could feel your nipples harden in excitement, body betraying you. A wet growing between your legs.

“Ransom what are you doing?” You said in exasperation. You weren’t blind. Ransom was gorgeous. You’d maybe, possibly, gotten off to the thought of him once or twice or maybe more than that in the four years you’ve known him. But he was also a scumbag who fucks and then throws girls out hours later. His moods were hot and cold. He had major Mommy issues and he’s not technically guilty of murder, but he’s a fucking murderer. But also… he’s been going to therapy and after that fight on his birthday last year he’s never laid a hand on you in anger again, there’s been some arguments sure, but he’s mostly nice to you. Caring even.

“Why don’t you love me Y/N?” His voice almost came out as a whine. He was playing with you.

“Ransom stop.” You pushed him away gently. He was fucking smirking.

“Usually there’s a ‘don’t’ in front of that.” Cocky bastard.

“You’re the worst person I know. And I hate that fucking smirk.” You picked at your now cold bear claw, trying to turn from him.

“Why don’t you wipe it off my face then?” Your eyes met his and you glared.

“What’s gotten into you today? Maybe you should go out early. Find some girl to satisfy whatever you’re going through right now.” His hands met your hips, spinning your stool back around to face him.

“What if I want you to satisfy whatever I’m going through right now.” His groin fit right up against your core and you could feel his throbbing heat between your legs. Fuck.

“Don’t make this mistake Ransom.” You placed one hand gently on his chest, attempting (but not really) to push him back. His forehead coming to rest against yours. “You don’t want this.”

“This is the only thing I’ve ever really wanted.” His breath mingled with yours, sweet, cinnamon and coffee.

“You’re not thinking straight.” His lips brushed against yours, tongue coming out to wet his lips, his eyes locked with yours. Why weren’t you pushing him away? Your breath hitched as his tongue accidentally grazed your bottom lip.

“The only clarity I’ve ever had in my life has been when I’m with you.”

His lips pressed heavily against yours, pushing you back against your bedroom door as his hand came to tangle in your hair. He was all consuming, body hot and heavy against yours. Your core was thrumming with want, moisture pooling in the crotch of your yoga pants. His hips were rolling into yours and you could feel the hard length of him against your belly. His lips quickly moved across your jaw to your neck and you could hear yourself moaning softly as he licked, sucked, and nibbled on the sensitive skin below your ear. Your hands clenching the soft material of the t-shirt by his hips, dipping your fingers slowly into the waistband of his shorts.

His lips parted from your neck, hand tilting your head back so he could look into your eyes before taking your mouth once more. His mouth moved down this time to the tops of your breasts, hands leaving to shift the thick wool cardigan off your shoulders and onto the floor before dropping the straps of your camisole and exposing them to the air, nipples already pebbled in excitement.

You hadn’t dated in a while, unable to because of your paid house arrest and before that the way Ransom had worked you to the bone picking up after him. And the touch from someone else always felt better than your own. His hands felt huge on you, protecting.

Your head met the door as he enveloped your right nipple in his mouth, rolling the sensitive bud on his tongue until he felt the left neglected, and switched, beginning to toy with your right nipple between his finger tips. Moans and heavy breaths were the only sounds in the hallway as Ransom made his way down your body, slipping your yoga pants and panties off your hips as he found his knees before you.

“Ransom-”

“Shhhhh,” He pressed his lips against your naval, working his way to your trembling core. His hand lifted your right thigh, draping it over his shoulder as his eyes focused in on your, what you knew must be soaking, wet pussy. His eyes met yours from his knees, your legs trembling with anticipation, eyes locked as his pink tongue came to meet your pussy for the first time, a shuddering breath being released from you urged him on further.

His thick fingers spread your lips open, exposing your clit to his gentle assault. A building pleasure in your core as his tongue began to skillfully work, pulling moans from your mouth. How was he so good at this? Experimenting with different strokes, different pressure, finding what you like.

“Just like that, oh my god.” He rolled his tongue against your clit, eyes finding yours once more, keeping pace. You could see the corner of his mouth pull up in a smirk as he began to work you up to climax. “You’re such a fucking asshole, I hate that fucking smirk.” Head hitting back against the door as he used his fingers to tease your opening. “Oh my god.” Your hips bucked against his face, causing him to use the arm currently wrapped around your thigh to splay open on your abdomen, holding your hips still. The wet noises and soft grunts from the man between your thighs only caused you to grow closer to your release.

“You taste so fucking good baby,” moaned between your thighs.

“Don’t fucking stop.” You scolded. So close. So fucking close. He obeyed, continuing his assault on your dripping pussy, fingers entering your tight channel to stroke against your sensitive walls. He buried his face further into your pussy, nose coming to rest in the soft curls there as he watched you come undone. Your moans escalating in volume as you felt your body tighten with pleasure, hips begging to buck against his face as he rode you through it. He continued to lick and suck on your clit until your hands found his head, pushing him away, legs shaking as you dropped against the door, knees coming to rest around his body.

That fucking smirk, “How was that?” He asked, face glistening with your cum.

“Fuck you Ransom.” And he fucking laughed the bastard. What a fucking dick. He brought his face back to yours, gently claiming your lips. The tang of your pussy ever present as you felt him consume you. Your heart was still racing as he picked you up from the floor, bringing you into his bedroom and ever so gently laying you down on the sheets you had just changed two hours ago.

His eyes were shifting between yours, a strange expression on his face.

“You can’t kick me out tomorrow Ransom,” Your breathing was heavy as he began to work at your neck, his hands going to remove his gym shorts. “I can’t leave.” He pressed his lips back to yours as you felt him rub the tip of his dick against your clit, your body shaking with over-stimulation. It felt so intimate. Before, his eyes on yours as he brought you over with his tongue and now as he slowly enters you, stretching your walls with his thick cock, eyes not breaking contact he sighs,

“I think you’re the only person I’ve ever loved.”

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #knives out #chris evans

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fountainpenguin · 3 years ago

Text

It’s an Update

Hello, Riddle here! I know I’ve been pretty quiet on Tumblr lately. Here’s an update on my situation:

I will definitely post more fanfic updates soon. I’ve picked at drafts, but haven’t posted anything lately. Here are the reasons why:

I got a new IRL job. It’s a good fit for me, but I have less free time than I used to, of course. It’s a job that involves writing lots of articles on a variety of topics, and I enjoy how every day is a little different

Most of my free time for the last year has gone towards my mod work at the Creature-Crossing ARPG, and to my personal CC writing. I’ve been working on new activities over there (my recent favorite being our seasonal familiar shows... I won first place in the summer show!) and I have a lot of plot plans that are coming together now. If you ever want to see my original characters and read my CC writing, you can find my character directory HERE and my Table of Contents HERE.

Once November 1st hits, I won’t be preparing for the release of any more CC activities or events. All future activity or event releases will be overseen by the other mods, and I’ll simply be someone they can ask for extra help if needed. This is a big change for a mod who spent the last 12 months working on new releases, and will give me back some of the free time my IRL job will eat

The Creature-Crossing admin (my boss) greenlit my request to bring an assistant on the mod team who will specifically help me with a lot of my behind-the-scenes work, such as data entry and organization. I’ve never had another mod who specifically helps me with the back end duties before, so that will be awesome. I will need to spend some time training them, but once they are official, that will take some of my workload off and allow me more free time for this blog and personal writing time.

===

Fanfic updates you can expect to see soon:

- Reedfilter Rules

- Frayed Knots

- Origin of the Pixies

- Debut of Factor It In, my Kid Math-centric “WordGirl” fanfic (Subtitled “Tales of a third-grade superhero in training”)... Yes I am still in love with this idiot boy, expect lots of doodle pages soon

- The 130 Prompts project is on a slow-burn writing schedule... I’ll write for it when I want to, but I mostly want to focus on Origin and Knots this year.

Further info below the cut. There is more info about non-Fairly OddParents ‘fics in here too (under “non-FOP fanfics”), so if you’re looking forward to Mario World or “WordGirl” ‘fics from me, give this a click so you know what’s coming!

So, what does this update mean for your fanfics?

They’ll be active again soon! I’ve been picking at them behind the scenes, trying to build up a buffer. In an ideal world, I would love to release a new chapter for SOMETHING every Friday. I doubt this will be possible, but it’s something I would love to work towards in the future. Realistically, you can probably expect some kind of fanfic update once every two Fridays (two updates per month).

There might be some Fridays where posting an update is not possible. Instead, I’ll make a post about what progress I made instead. In the past, I often overworked myself to get a chapter out in time for my old deadline. I will not be doing that anymore, but will instead hold myself to a goal of “Make progress on something every week.”

In the best ideal world, I would love to post one FOP fanfic update per week and one non-FOP fanfic update per week. This is not likely to happen for a long, long time, but that would be the dream.

Here are the things I most likely worked on if there is no fanfic update:

- A fanfic chapter draft that needs more time

- A sideblog profile

- A Toyhouse profile for personal characters

- IRL work or mod work may have kept me busy this week

- Creature-Crossing writing... I will try to prioritize my fanfics more, but my CC writing is still important to me and I will be working on it in a lot of my free time too. At the moment, I have a hard deadline of December 14th that I need to meet if I want to release huge plot drama on the day that it happens in canon. I’ve been building up to this for a long time, so I’m really excited about that.

I currently have summer or autumn 2022 planned as the “finale” for the majority of my plot to explode. I will be hosting a member-run event in Creature-Crossing that will last for two months, so a lot of my time from January until the event’s release will be spent doing event prep. Once the event ends, my story content will mostly be a “return to slice of life.” Stories will be more casual one-offs as characters grow, live their lives, and start their own families. Hitting seasonal deadlines for plot will no longer be so important. I’ll be giving Creature-Crossing work less attention after that, and much more attention to my fanfics.

- I may not have a fanfic chapter out each week, but I WILL post a note every Friday to let you know what I have been doing with my time. You’ll see me around. Feel free to send Asks and talk!

===

What non-FOP fanfics would you like to work on?

For literal years, I’ve been claiming I want to post Mario World fanfics. This is still something I want to do. I tag Mario World posts as “mushrooms and more.” I’ve already done a lot of worldbuilding, I have thousands of words of content written for this fandom... I just haven’t posted any of it. I hope to do this soon.

- “WordGirl” fanfics are prioritized over Mario World fanfics. After I finish my first “WordGirl” multi-chapter, I will probably be ready to post my Mario World ‘fics. I may possibly post some Mario World one-shots in between other fanfic updates. Might take another year or more before I touch Mario stuff unless there’s high interest in seeing it sooner?

I also really want to write some WordGirl ‘fics and get more involved with the fandom community. I’ve been building headcanons and lore for this show ever since I was a kid, and I have multiple ‘fics for this fandom that I want to write.

- “AlgoRhythm” is a ‘fic I have already posted on FFN and AO3, about WordGirl introducing Kid Math to the villains in town

- 28 Cities is a ‘fic I started about Rhyme and Reason before they arrived in Fair City. I put it on hiatus since it didn’t seem like anyone was interested, but I’m willing to post more for it if there is interest in it now that years have passed and I’ve gotten more followers who like WordGirl. I have a lot of worldbuilding and plot I never shared for it

- Factor It In is a ‘fic I’ve been working for a while that parallels the official show from the moment Kid Math arrives in town. It focuses on Rex’s struggle to adjust to this world as a child coming into his superpowers for the first time (Y’know, the whole “superheroes don’t have powers when they’re on their home planets” thing), his struggle to adapt to the social world of a non-logical planet, and Becky’s struggle to help him become accustomed to Earth and learn to share it with her as well. If the episode “Kid Math” was a full-length novel about Rex’s arrival and character development, that’s what this story is. This is the highest priority of all my non-FOP ‘fics... I’ve had a cover image made for 6 months and even though I tried setting it aside, I’ve always been super inspired to write for it. If I felt like it would be a good idea to commit to weekly updates alongside my FOP updates, I would, haha.

- I have two one-shot WIPs called “Squishy Feelings” and “A Little Ambiguity”, one of them focusing on Becky and Rex talking about the events of “Rhyme and Reason” and what it means for Rex’s secret identity, and the latter being a future ‘fic showing WordGirl and Kid Math dealing with life 10 to 15 years down the road. I’ll probably post the latter, not sure yet on the former.

- If desired, I may make a WordGirl specific sideblog where I post lore, answer Asks, post character profiles [smaller than my FOP sideblog ones], and mention fanfic updates. If you would be interested in this, feel free to send me an Ask requesting I do this. If there’s not interest, I’ll just keep my WordGirl stuff on the main blog.

- I’d like to get more involved in the WordGirl community, so I’ll probably post more content and reblog more art and headcanons

I also have a handful of miscellaneous ideas I might follow through with. I’d like to write at least one “TUFF Puppy” fanfic so I can say I did. In a perfect world I would like to finish the two “Danny Phantom” and “Bunsen Is a Beast” fanfics I started because... I just kind of want to dip my toe in each of the Hartman shows once since I already went through all the effort of worldbuilding for them to make them canon in a single Hartman show universe. “ChalkZone” is another show I adore and might touch someday (You may recall I have a full outline planned for an FOP/ChalkZone crossover ‘fic called “Dust to Dust”).

Will I write all of these things? Maybe not. I have no idea if I want to spend the next 10+ years writing fanfics, or if I’ll simply be done with all misc. fanfics immediately once I decide to be done with my main ‘fics. I definitely intend to write for a few more years and finish my main ‘fics, but I might not go through with some less popular side ‘fics if life is getting busy for me.

===

What is the posting schedule for FOP ‘fics?

Reedfilter Rules, Frayed Knots, Origin of the Pixies, the 130 Prompts project, and “Come What May” are all high priority FOP writings. I will swap between them depending on my mood that week.

Here are some other ‘fics I want to work on.

- If you like, you can send me Asks requesting I work on a specific story above the rest. I will try to prioritize whichever stories interest you guys most.

Snips and Snails is a ‘fic I started and posted the first chapter for years ago. I’m not sure when I will get back to it, as I ran into some writer’s block. It’s still on tentative hiatus for now..... Possibly forever, though I hope it isn’t forever since it’s only supposed to be, like, five more chapters.

Pink and Gray is on official hiatus. I actually have a lot written for it, but I know it’s a little weird to put so much time and energy into Gary and Betty content when... well, let’s be honest: they’re my niche favorites and most of you probably don’t care. So, I am lifting my usual “no spoilers” policy from my Ask Box. If you would like to ask about my Gary and Betty backstory headcanons, feel free. I will tag my replies as “ridwriting spoilers” for anyone who wants to blacklist the tag, and spoilers will be hidden under a Read More line.

I’d like to return to this story someday because there are tons of things I like about it (ranging from Betty’s secret tattoos to Gary’s plot drama with his mom to the background drama between Talon and Anti-Cosmo, but I always feel immense pressure to make it extra cool to make up for the fact these are weird side characters, so... it’s officially at the bottom of the priority pile. Once Talon shows up in Frayed Knots and readers understand who he is and why he exists, I’ll consider coming back to it.

Identity Theft is a story about Foop and his time in the alternate dimension he was flung into following the episode “Playdate of Doom.” To put it short, Foop was abused by alternate versions of his parents in this dimension and he witnessed some pretty intense stuff, including the death of the alt version of himself who existed in that reality. The trauma he experienced resulted in his alternate personality, Hiccup. Foop himself has very few memories of what happened, as Hiccup has all of those memories. This story is canon in my works, and it is regularly referred to during the 130 Prompts as part of Foop’s backstory. It’s my highest priority side story to work on.

Along the Cherry Lane is a 20-chapter work focusing on the lives of the main human cast from age 11 to age 30, with one chapter showing a snippet of their lives each year. You see Timmy raising Tommy and Tammy in this ‘fic, and it ends with them receiving godparents. Since the 130 Prompts don’t give humans much attention, this ‘fic does. You’ll probably see it debut two years from now, closer to when the 130 Prompts is ready to talk more about humans.

If this becomes a popular ‘fic of mine, I’ll probably write a sequel or continue it past Chapter 30 and write about Tammy and Tommy living with fairies, but I won’t if there’s no interest in that.

Little Imperfections is a Pixie AU ‘fic of mine about what life would be like in a universe where the Fairies are even more like insects than I play them as during my main works (where I already play them as semi-similar to insects). In this world, the Head Pixie is a figurehead whose duty is to reproduce for the sake of the colony and do nothing else, and he’s bored out of his mind until he befriends Sanderson, who introduces him to music. It’s extremely self-indulgent and silly because I like Pixies.

Francis is a multi-chapter ‘fic about bully Francis’s life getting yet another fairy godparent in a long string of memory wipes and godparents. It takes place during the canon series, and when you see an “orange fairy” mentioned in some of my writings, it’s usually referring to this fairy. His name is Rover and I occasionally post art of him. I feel like I can’t truly call myself an FOP fanfic writer until I actually write about a godkid and their godparents, haha...

Hawthorn Haven is a side ‘fic that will be posted towards the end of the 130 Prompts, as it veers off from the prompts in its own self-contained multi-chapter story. It will be approximately the length of “Baby, You’re a Rich Man.”

Acacia Arcadia is a far-past ‘fic detailing the fall of the ancient fae, the imprisonment of the nature spirits, the rise and fall of the chimera nation, the fall of the Martian genies, and the early days of the cloudlands. This is close to the bottom of the priority pile... It’s something I spend time on for personal reference to ensure accuracy in my other ‘fics, but it’s probably not what you guys came here to read.

AA has a bunch of characters in it that you might vaguely recognize, such as Ezekiel Whimsifinado, Evadne, Ione, Two Feathers, Rho, and Sablewood (If you’re astute, you might recall cloudland legends and landmarks in modern day that refer back to these characters). There are also a lot of characters who were reincarnated as Anti-Fairies, in accordance to traditional Anti-Fairy beliefs; Foop for example exists as a main character in one of his past lives, and you’ll see a hint dropped about each of his lives in the first chapter of Identity Theft. My tentative plan is to use Foop’s past lives as my central characters, following the events of each part of the timeline until he gets killed and reincarnates at a later point of the timeline.

I also keep some one-shots in a file I call Mixed Nuts and I may possibly post them someday (they’re mostly just one-shots of main cast characters I do to get a feel for their personalities, I have some Wanda and Cupid in here). @zachbrightside and I are also working on a collab ‘fic called Like a House On Fire that shows more of Timmy and Chloe’s lives during Season 10 (especially around the time of “Which Is Wish?”) No news on a release date for that yet.

As I’ve said before, once all my other FOP works are complete, I will write Devil’s Backbone, which is my far-future ‘fic and the finale of my FOP writing. I do not plan to write any more FOP content after that story is finished, as I expect to have all other FOP projects done by then.

- Devil’s Backbone is a finale 'fic, so all worldbuilding from all stories is fair game to blend together, and it’s highly recommended you read everything else first. This story has been outlined since 2016, and it might not be published for another 10 years... Who knows! But it’s something I always work towards as a concrete endgame goal.

- If something serious comes up in my life and I officially decide I don’t want to write this story, I will post the outline for it. The link to this draft is included with all the other Google Docs links I have in a far-future queued post unveiling my WIPs in case I unexpectedly die and you still want to know how my stories would have gone, so you’ll get access to this story eventually even if I die young. Yes, share access is turned on for them all and I do take extra careful measures to be sure that post doesn’t get posted early skldfj

===

What is the plan for the main blog?

Every Friday, I will post either a fanfic chapter or a progress update. You can blacklist the tag “ridlife” if you do not want to see the progress updates on your dashboard. Fanfic updates will not have the “ridlife” tag, so you will not be blocking them.

During the rest of the week, I might post doodles, reblogs, or general comments. Basically... you’ll see the blog become active again. Feel free to send in Asks about my worldbuilding and thoughts on fanfic characters.

@fountainpenguin is my personal blog, so you will see non-fandom things on here sometimes

@riddledeep is my FOP-exclusive sideblog. It contains all my lore notes and goes into a ton of depth, more than my fanfics give in one breath

===

What does this mean for the Riddledeep sideblog?

I really want to go back and edit those character profiles that were posted early by mistake. The reason they were queued is because if I turned them into drafts, they would have been buried all the way at the beginning of my draft collection, and I have many, many drafts saved. There are no page numbers to navigate quickly through the draft collection, so I would have to click through each page one by one if I ever wanted to look at them. I hated doing this, which is why I kept my posts queued.

I was regularly updating the queue deadlines, trying to keep things in the order I wanted to post them in, but Tumblr made a change to the way drafts are dated and it kept throwing off my system. My inability to remember when my queued things would post combined with my busy schedule led to some profiles being posted early and incomplete. I want to fix these.

Over a year ago, my good friend Vulpix150 helped me finalize my designs for the Aos Sí and Daoine Sith. I’ve been sitting on that art in secret for a while, and at some point I plan to post it on the sideblog and talk more about that lore.

Updating fanfics is my higher priority (and it was the priority my followers voted for when I asked you to send votes to my Ask Box a while back). So, I will usually spend my free time working on fanfics unless I need a break from them and want to work on sideblog profiles instead. Thank you for your patience!

===

TL;DR

I’m posting fanfics again soon. I’m going to take a more relaxed approach to posting them. I’m going to post more of what I want to post and what I feel motivated to post, not always a main ‘fic update. If I’m not “feeling it” when working on a draft, then I’ll set it aside for a while unless I know my followers and readers have high interest in the next chapter of that story. I always write for me first, but if I know there are other people who care a lot about a story, then of course I want to write it for you too!

I’m going to embrace my decade-long love for WordGirl and post more ‘fics and art or this fandom. I’ve always been a little shy about doing this, but I’m ready to make it an official fandom on my main blog (unless there are lots of requests for WordGirl things to be contained in their own sideblog). I will be posting the first chapter for a ‘fic called Factor It In very soon. Love my easily frustrated alien kiddos having a long day.

I am working on Creature-Crossing stuff too, and will be especially busy in November and December. Updates will be slow for a few months, but I hope to find my groove and a good pace soon.

Each Friday, I will post either a fanfic update or a mention of what I am working on. I will be checking in on Tumblr regularly. Feel free to talk! I much prefer you send messages to my Ask Box, not my private messenger, please <3

===

Is there a specific story of mine you like and want more updates for?

Asks and reviews help me know which ‘fics people are enjoying. I plan to keep writing ‘fics no matter what, but I definitely give more time to the ‘fics that get more attention (and I have been spending so much time writing for Creature-Crossing because that’s where the attention was coming from)

It’s easy to stay motivated and get the next part of a story out soon if I know that people like it. It’s always harder if you feel like people are silently judging you and ignoring your posts. So, let me know what you’re interested in. And if you only leave Likes or Favorites instead of asks and reviews, that’s okay too! Thank you for interacting anyway and enjoying my work.

Thanks for reading!

#WordGirl #Factor It In #Kid Math #FAIRIES!#ridlife #riddleverse mention #ridwriting #Mushrooms and more #Satirical vocab alien child show #Frayed Knots #130 Prompts #Origin of the Pixies #Pink and Gray #Acacia Arcadia #Devil's Backbone #Hawthorn Haven #Along the Cherry Lane

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iwillbeinmynest · 4 years ago

Text

Redcove Harvest - Bucky x Reader(f) Chapter 2

Author’s Notes: Thank you all for the kind and enthusiastic response to the first chapter. Here’s chapter two for ya’ll. I hope you like it. I have a feeling this series with hit at least ten chapters but that means high word counts so hopefully that isn’t an issue.

AU: Farmhand!AU and SingleMom!Reader

Word Count:

Notes/Warnings: (Notes are for the whole series) FLUFF, mentions of a past toxic relationship, a wild storm at the end, drama and a break-up, mentions of drinking, kids being adorable and ridiculous, kissing, romance and a tiny bit of angst if you look hard but nothing more than that of a Hallmark movie.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Bucky dropped Steve off at the store and then made his way to the address on the napkin. He turned off the highway onto a dirt road. He drove for about three miles or so down the tree lined drive. He took his final turn into an open but very busted gate. The fencing that lined the property was made of wood and was rotting in a few places. He figured that was probably on the list of things he might be doing.

He kept driving and saw that both of the fields on either side of him were overgrown. The fences were covered with saplings, vines and weeds. The fields beyond them were waist high with wheat colored grass and broom straw. He added that to his mental list. This dirt road ran for just over a mile and then he came into view of the house. It was a white two story with a wrap around porch. There was a large slab of old concrete that was being used to park cars. It held an orange tractor-mower, a Burgundy Ford and three electric kids cars. Two were pink and one looked like a little John Deer tractor.

Okay, so kids, that’s fun.

Bucky parked where he wouldn’t be in the way and got out of his truck. Two little girls, no older than ten, ran out of the front door laughing, each carrying their own basket. They didn’t even see Bucky and ran in the opposite direction, disappearing behind the house.

Bucky looked around the yard and saw a third field directly across from the front door. It was about forty yards from the porch but it was lush with greens and scattered bright colors. The field, that was also lined with a worn down fence, was a massive garden.

He could only pick out a few types of plants, though; tomatoes, cabbage, some kind of hanging gourd and (at his best guess) carrots.

A woman stood up from behind a thick patch of greens. Her hair was braided back and she had gardening gloves on. She was wearing a yellow tee-shirt, jeans and black rubber boots. She picked up a basket and started walking towards Bucky.

He slid his hands into his pockets and nodded his head her way. She waved briefly and closed the gate behind her.

Bucky could see her basket was full of freshly harvested radishes.

She reached a hand out, “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

Bucky shook it with another nod. “Bucky. Well, James. James Barnes but call me Bucky.” Bucky cursed in his head.

Y/N smiled. “Nice to meet you, Bucky.”

He froze at her smile. She was stunning. She had dirt on her cheek and a little sweat on her forehead but it only seemed to add to her beauty.

Her brow furrowed and she used a hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she looked out over her property. “So, I need all of the fields cut and the fence lines cleaned. That will all probably take you at least a week. Then I’ll need the front field bailed but I have to rent the machine. And I’m sure you’ve noticed the fences are busted in several spots, we used to have cows, and one of Gavin’s bulls took out a few posts in a fit. And-”

“Wait, I’m sorry.” Bucky jumped in as politely as he could. “So, I have the job?”

“Isn’t that why you came?” She looked a little confused.

“But you don’t even know me.” He said.

Y/N smiled. “You come highly recommended, Sergeant.” She leaned on one leg and rested her basket on her hip.

Bucky ticked his head to the side and then it dawned on him. “Steve called you.”

She nodded once. “He did.” She grinned.

Bucky could have melted from the softness of her smile.

“You can run a field mower, right?” She asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, great. I put the keys on the seat for you.” She said over her shoulder as she began to walk away. “I’ll be in the yellow barn for a bit but if you can’t find me there give me a ring.”

“Will do.” He said to himself as he watched her walk away for a minute. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. He cursed Steve under his breath.

* * * *

Bucky ran the mower for five hours. Somewhere in the middle Y/N called him back to the house for water and lunch but he insisted he only needed the water and that he’d take a bottle to-go if she had it, which she did.

Her property was huge, he guessed at least 250 acres. He didn’t even finish half of the first field. He pulled the Tractor back to where it was parked when he pulled up, then he tried to brush as much of the dust off of him as he could.

He could feel a sunburn on the back of his neck and decided that he’d either need a real hat or something to cover the skin above his collar.

He walked up the front steps and knocked on the door.

He heard little bare feet slapping on hardwood and running his way. The door opened and a little blonde baby was grinning up at him. “Hi!” She beamed.

“Hi,” He smiled back. “Is your mom around?”

“MOMMA!” She shouted.

A faint voice called back, “Comin’, baby!”

Bucky smiled.

The girl grabbed his hand. “I’m Lex. You should come inside. Momma doesn’t like it when the front door is left open.” She tugged on him and he conceded. Lex closed the door and then left him there.

Another girl walked past and when she noticed him her eyes grew wide. She very clearly had no idea who he was.

“Momma,” She started as she backed away.

Y/N appeared from around the corner and her gait faltered when she saw Bucky in the house. She put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders.

“Bucky, who let you in?”

Bucky had clearly crossed a line. He backed up, taking a step towards the door. “I’m sorry, Lex-”

Y/N rolled her eyes and sighed, relieved. “Of course, Lex.”

The daughter at Y/N’s side twisted and shouted as she disappeared, “Lex! You can’t just let people in the house!”

“But momma does it!” A faint Lex shouted back.

“Momma is the grown-up, she’s supposed to!”

“Gracie quit yellin’ at your sister!” Y/N turned back to Bucky. “I’m sorry. Kids.” She chuckled.

“I was just about to head out but wanted to know what time you’d like me tomorrow.” He confessed.

“Oh, umm.” She put her hands at her hips. “How about eight? I’ll pay you for a full day's work today but I’d figured that you could work eight to three for the most part. Weather pending, of course.”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Great. Oh! Will you come write down your information so I can pay you?” She waived him over and headed down the hall.

Bucky followed as she turned a corner and ended up in a massive kitchen that spilled into the family room.

“I’ll pay you weekly at twenty two an hour if that works?”

Bucky’s eyes went a bit wide. “Yes, ma’am that works for me.”

She looked over at him as she grabbed a pen and pad from a small basket on the counter. “Stop calling me ‘Ma’am’. Just Y/N is fine.”

He nodded as he wrote down his name and number and address. “Will I get to meet your husband?” he’d meant it innocently.

Y/N turned and said, “He passed a few years ago,” with no tone whatsoever.

Bucky jerked his head up. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

She held a hand up and plastered on that gentle smile. “It’s fine. Really.”

Bucky handed her the pad and pen back.

“So, will a check work?” She asked.

“Sure, that’s fine.” He smiled back. He felt bad for bringing up her dead husband. He also felt bad knowing she had kids. “I appreciate the work.”

“I appreciate the help.”

There was an awkward pause so Bucky tried to fill it, “I’m sorry for coming into the house when I shouldn’t have. I didn’t mean to scare your daughter.”

“Who, Gracie? Nah, she’s tough. She was probably trying to decide if she was gonna grab a bat.” Y/N chuckled. “Lexie, on the other hand, needs some work on her stranger danger skills. She’s only five but that girl is another kind of fearless.”

Bucky laughed. “Well, hopefully I fall out of the stranger category, now.”

Y/n nodded. “Steve vouched for you so, I’d say you’re good.”

“Did he really call you?”

“He did.”

Bucky shook his head. He made a note to punch Steve real hard.

“I’ve known Steve since before Gavin died. He’s a good man. He mentioned you a lot. I’m glad to finally meet you.”

Y/N met Bucky’s eyes and they stayed like that for a moment.

“Mom! Lex won’t give me my Legos back!” Gracie yelled from up stairs. A smaller scream followed little running footsteps.

Y/N sighed and put a hand to her head. “I should take care of that.”

Bucky jerked from his spot against the counter. “Yeah, yeah. Of course, sorry. I’ll let you get to it.”

“Yeah, thanks.” She followed him to the front door. “Feel free to use whatever you need in the morning. If it’s on the property you can use it or fix it. I’ll have a full list of everything I need done, too. You’re welcome to leave for lunch whenever you’d like or eat up here.”

“Thank you.” He smiled at her as he stepped through the door. “Have a good evening.”

“You, too. Good night, Bucky.”

He jogged down the steps and hopped in his truck. He suddenly got the feeling he was going to love his job.

* * * * * * * * * *

Forever Tags:

@cassiopeiassky @sgtbxckybxrnes

@itsanerdlife @beccaanne814

@tanelle83 @artemis521

@elaacreditava @feelmyroarrrr

@palaiasaurus64 @the-stuttering-kiwi

@destiel-artemis @sexyvixen7

@girl-next-door-writes @coolest-avenger

@xoxabs88xox @youclickedthislink

@also-fangirlinsweden @widowvinter

@daughterofthenight117 @drayshadow

@archy3001 @miraclesoflove

Redcove Tags:

@cavillanche @bi-bucky-barnes

@mylifeiscrazy0423 @dumblani

@thefridgeismybestie @csigeoblue

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky romance #bucky barnes fanfic #Redcove Harvest #my fic #iwillbeinmynest #Farmhand! AU #farmhand! Bucky

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the-hilda-librarians-wife · 4 years ago

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A Familiar Soul - Chapter Seven

Summary: Hilda decides to be completely honest with her mother, surprised when she seems to be a lot more in on magic than Hilda had expected her to be.

With her daughter’s association with witches, Johanna is forced to face some secrets of her own, bringing her back to feelings and people she’d rather have left behind

Dealing with insecurities and inner demons of her own, Kaisa finds herself face to face with the very issues that brought her to be so displeased with her own abilities

Or: the one where Johanna is Kaisa’s familiar

Notes: School is ✨kicking my butt✨, so I unfortunately won’t be able to keep posting weekly. I’ll try to do it every other week, but I really can’t promise anything Thank you for understanding <3

Read it on ao3: (chpt1) (chpt2) (chpt3) (chpt4) (chpt5) (chpt6) (chpt7)

The arrival of their midterms meant they spent more time in the library than outside of it. Luckily, they hadn’t allowed any subjects to pile up, so even if it was still tough work, it wasn’t awfully unnerving. Besides, they had each other’s presence and help, which undoubtedly made matters easier; Johanna had to admit revising was more pleasant when she knew her girlfriend would be down to go out for some coffee when they were finished.

“I feel as though we’re one step away from moving into the library, you know?” Johanna commented when she noticed Kaisa had closed her textbook. There were dark circles under her eyes, as keeping up with two separate educations, the normal one and the magical one, was taking its toll on her. Nevertheless, she smiled.

“I wouldn’t be averse to it, actually.” Running her eyes through the nearest bookshelf, wishing she could read one of those books instead of doing maths, she sighed. “It’s weird, but I kind of feel at home here. So much knowledge in one place, so much history… this feels more magical than any spell.”

Kaisa had closed her eyes to take a deep breath in, basking in the comforting scent of old parchment and wood. It did feel magical to be there. Centuries of stories that had both been stored there and taken place there. It felt sacred. As she knew the delicacy of the topic, Johanna kept her voice low.

“Is that what you want to work with?”

“No.” Suddenly reminded that she couldn’t thrive if all she did was enjoy the peace of places she was already comfortable with, the witch opened her eyes. It would be necessary to come out of her comfort zone if she wanted to do something worthwhile. “As a witch, I can always visit the library. I can practically live here if I want to. But I need to do what my mother couldn’t.”

The way Kaisa had clenched her fist was immediately noticed by Johanna, and she reached out to touch her hand, interlacing their fingers. She didn’t know much about what had happened to her mother, since the matter never failed to upset Kaisa and she hadn’t wanted to push her, but she knew how ascending to her mother’s former position meant the world to her. It was what she’d been training for her whole life, even if it was a shame that it apparently meant she couldn’t work with her books.

“Well, I’ll support you with everything.”

“I know you will.” Kaisa squeezed her hand. “Right now I need you to support me with physics, though.”

“Oh, not physics!” She groaned, making them both chuckle in equal measure amusement and desperation. It was cozy, she though as they both opened their textbooks, to know that regardless of the path they chose or the place they were, they would always have a home in each other.

_#_#_#_

Kaisa walked surprisingly fast for someone who wasn’t at all that tall, which made it almost impossible for Hilda to catch up with her, though to her credit Hilda wasn’t exactly tall either. When the girl arrived at the base of the staircase, Kaisa was no longer in the building’s entrance hall, and Hilda ran to the door to poke her head outside, looking both ways and catching a glimpse of Kaisa’s cape disappearing behind the right corner. Without thinking twice, she began to follow her.

She could have broken into a quicker run, or shouted after the librarian, but she had a feeling that that would only make Kaisa herself run, or at least do her best to avoid her. As she followed on Kaisa’s tail, watching her take a path that eventually Hilda realized was familiar to her, the girl kept looking behind herself every few minutes, to certify herself that her mother wasn’t following her. Whether Johanna realized she’d screwed up or simply didn’t think Hilda would be able to reach Kaisa, she didn’t know, but the fact was that the woman was nowhere to be seen.

Hilda realized she had been right about the librarian’s destination when the gates of Saint Guglow’s cemetery came into view. Right after Kaisa, she entered the cemetery and kept to the cobblestone path making as little noise as she could manage, wondering which ghost Kaisa wanted to wake up and why, and if she had an extra resurrection staff with her (which was frankly a disturbing thought: how many of those did one person need?). Instead of waking any of them up, however, the witch surprised Hilda by sitting between two graves and curling herself up into a ball on the ground.

Her shoulders were shaking even though Hilda couldn’t hear any sounds coming from her. She just stood there at a distance, thinking that if Kaisa really was crying than she should probably leave her alone. Even so, her curiosity kept her feet firmly planted on the ground, feeling unable to walk away from this mystery that seemed to surround two women she had previously thought had nothing to do with each other.

Why hadn’t her mother ever told her she’d known Kaisa when they were young, Hilda wondered, but then she realized: she didn’t really know anything about her mother’s youth. Had she ever even asked Johanna about her past, or had she contended herself to being annoyed when she’d tell little bits and pieces about her childhood in Trolberg? Before she could wallow in thoughts of being a terrible daughter, it came to her attention that the same went for Kaisa. When had she ever asked her about how she’d come to be Tildy’s student, or about how she became the librarian?

If she could barely remember any interaction with Kaisa that didn’t involve asking the witch to help clean up one of her messes, did she even have the right to be there and ask what the problem was? She didn’t have the opportunity to decide, because right at that moment Kaisa called out for her.

“I know you’re here.” She said even before lifting her head. “What do you want?”

There was no bite to her words, only a sting of hurt. HIlda highly doubted that she appreciated being seen in such a state. Her face looked redder than usual, and so did her eyes, but at least she didn’t look like she’d been full on sobbing. Walking closer, Hilda kneeled down in front of her.

“I want to know if you’re okay.” Though Hilda would have hugged anyone else in this situation, everything about Kaisa’s body language told her to stay away. “And what I can do to help. It is my fault after all.”

Kaisa made a dry sound, something between a scoff and a mirthless chuckle, looking away from the girl.

“Don’t beat yourself up for that. You were probably the one person in the room who wasn’t to blame.”

“I didn’t know my mother knew you.” Hilda tried to sound casual, but the curiosity didn’t stay out of her voice. Probably because she would rather not have, Kaisa thought. “Why does she hate you so much?”

The words hadn’t even finished leaving her mouth before Hilda cringed, realizing it was probably very rude of her to use the word ‘hate’, especially with Kaisa in such a state. Luckily for her, Kaisa didn’t look angry, only sad. She hugged her cape even tighter around herself.

“Part of me thinks I had this coming.” Kaisa sighed, making Hilda perk up. She hadn’t actually thought she’d be able to get the story out of her. “When we were young… not as young as you, we were barely adults… I let Johanna take the fall for something she hadn’t done. Her parents, your grandparents, how much do you know about them?”

“Not much.”

“They had good intentions.” Kaisa sighed. “But they were very strict. After I did that, Johanna wasn’t allowed to go outside for like, two months.”

“Two months?!” Hilda gasped, thinking about how upset her mother had been about grounding her for just a few days, and with a reason.She struggled to even imagine what that must have been like for her. “Why on earth did you do that?”

“I was angry.” She shrugged. Hilda might not forgive her for what she’d done, but she supposed every action had a consequence. What use was it to be forgiven by Hilda if Johanna hadn’t, anyway? Very little, especially since Kaisa wasn’t so sure that she’d come close to forgiving Johanna herself. “Said some harsh stuff, did some harsh stuff too. But that’s not my story to tell, so you won’t hear it from me.”

Hilda looked like she desperately wanted to ask more, but Kaisa just left it at that to indicate that that was the end of their conversation. Truth was, no matter how angry she still was with Johanna, she didn’t want to bad-mouth her to her daughter.

“Can I stay here with you?” Hilda asked after a long beat of silence, but Kaisa nodded negatively.

“Go back home, your mother will be waiting for you.”

“What about you? Won’t you go home?”

Touching the grave to her right, Kaisa felt the cold, smooth stone on her fingertips. “Home can mean many things. Don’t worry about me, the company here is better, anyways.”

#uuuugh im losing motivation to write this verse #i hope u guys arent losing motivation to read it though oitihyiotyu #fic: afs #my fic #sketchbook ship #sketchbook ship fanfic #kaisa hilda fanfic #johanna hilda fanfic

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mcwriting · 4 years ago

Text

The Marriage Project (2)

part 2 is already here! fun fact, I’ve actually written like 16 chapters and I probs won’t always be posting weekly but I really wanted to put out part 2 sooooo... yeah. The Tom Holland x reader high school AU continues

Story Masterlist

Warnings: mild language

Word Count: 2365 (shorter than before, I know)

% approximately 1st week of September %

The next week had been relatively uneventful. Mrs. Flynn gave you both an A on your budget for the first week.

She also drew the next weekly condition, which for you was a $300 doctor’s visit of one family member.

“Well that’s stupid. If this were real life, we wouldn’t even need to take our kids to the doctor as PA’s,” Tom argued.

“First off, it’s not real life, and secondly, what if the kid broke a bone? Who’s gonna cast it, genius?”

“Well we probably wouldn’t have to pay,” he grumbled

When Friday afternoon hit, you were almost disappointed to see Tom not in the stands for your game, but remembered that the team had to start all their pregame rituals a couple hours before kickoff.

After crushing the competition, you took a quick shower and put on the shirt every senior was supposed to wear and walked to the field, where some of your friends had already claimed a spot on the bleachers.

It was still a half hour before kickoff, so you talked as they helped put paint streaks on your cheeks and tie ribbons in your hair to show school spirit. You also watched the boys run drills until they were called to the sidelines for the national anthem.

The team captains met for the coin toss, and as Tom and his co captain headed back to the team huddle, Tom spotted you in the crowd and pointed directly at you.

You didn’t know what he was doing so you quickly flipped him off and went back to your conversation.

They ended up winning the game by a field goal, and true to his word, Tom had actually played pretty well, aside from getting sacked towards the end of the game.

You and the girls, not yet wanting to go home, hung out in the parking lot as families left.

“Hey, look. It’s your husband,” Alexis pointed out as Tom and a couple other players came limping down the lot with bags in tow. They were still wearing their football pants but had removed their jerseys, leaving on sleeveless compression shirts.

“Ugh. Don’t remind me. But I will say, his mom already loves me. We’re on a first name basis.”

She gave you a little low-five out of pride.

You couldn’t help but notice Tom pull the necklace out from under his shirt’s collar, the ring still attached.

Did he wear that the whole game?

He spotted you from a few yards away and yelled out,

“Hey hey hey. What did I tell you? Swooning yet?” he held his arms out as if to show he was right.

“Not quite, bub. But I’ll give you that touchdown pass. Don’t forget we have to work on the budget tomorrow!”

“Yeah yeah, see you then, princess.” He waved a hand as he continued on to his car.

Ugh. Princess.

Tom had been calling you that ever since the time freshman year you were the leading princess in a school play.

You had hated the role for many reasons.

For one, the character had no development and was basically dumb and defenseless (aka the exact opposite of you and everything you stood for). On top of that, the costumes were hideous, and what should have been a couple of pretty ballgowns and flowing skirts ended up being completely unflattering in color, shape, and style.

Everyone knew you hated it, and Tom loved to rub that in your face.

Eventually, you decided to retire home for the night since you had had such a taxing day.

You rang the Holland’s doorbell again, and this time it was opened by Tom’s youngest brother, Paddy. He was in the 5th grade, so you didn’t know him well.

A perfect opportunity to make a good impression.

“Hey there, Paddy. Is Tom around? We’re supposed to work on our project today.”

“I’m not sure where he is, but I’m sure I can find him. Come on in.”

“Oh thank you. So polite.”

He sheepishly looked down as his face reddened.

“I’ll be right back.”

He ran to the stairs and disappeared up them. A few minutes later an exhausted looking Tom appeared at the top of the stairs next to his brother.

“Come on up, I need to take a piss before we get started.” he called down, ever the charmer. He rubbed his eyes. He was only wearing a pair of sweats.

You followed his word and sat down on his bedroom floor, pulling up the documents on your computer as you waited. He came back wearing a shirt, a mug of coffee in hand.

“Want some? I made it fresh. I just woke up if you couldn’t tell.”

“No thanks. I don’t drink coffee, I find it disgusting. Caffeine addiction’s bad for you anyways.”

He looked down at the drink and back at you.

“Well we can’t all be perfect little princesses.”

You wanted to slap him, but just fired back with an insult and got to work. There wasn’t as much to do today other than reallocate the funds for the appointment and make up a story of what could have happened.

You both laid on your stomachs looking at the screen. As you typed, you heard heavy breathing and glanced over to see Tom had fallen back asleep.

Wow. He almost looks nice when he’s sleeping. What a disappointment.

You finished your paragraph and shook him awake.

“Ugh. sorry. I told you I’m a mess after game days.”

He went to push up to a sitting position when he winced, inhaling sharply. He put his head back on the ground.

“Woah there. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just pulled a muscle in my back last night. I think it’s from that sack.”

“Do you need me to get you something? LIke icy hot or some advil? I carry both at all times.”

“Icy hot would be perfect. I already took some painkillers.”

You shifted up and grabbed your backpack, pulling out the tube. You tossed it next to him to use.

“I hate to ask this, because you’re you, but could you put it on for me? I don’t think I can reach.”

You hesitated, but agreed since you knew what it felt like to be in pain like that.

“Okay. Give me a general idea of where it is and I’ll poke around to find it.”

“Just under my shoulder blades on the right.”

He pulled up his shirt and you went to touch his back lightly. He flinched when your fingers graced his skin.

“Oh yeah, my hands are cold by the way.”

“No shit.”

You put your hand back, pressing lightly until he winced again, then you put a small amount of the ointment on your hand, massaging it in.

You rhythmically rubbed your hand over the area in little circles, trying to loosen the tight muscle with your palm. You didn’t think much about it until he let out a moan, and you pulled your hand back like he was on fire.

“Oh my God I’m so sorry. It just felt so good on that spot and it just slipped out-”

“Let’s just agree to never mention this again. I’m gonna go wash my hands. And hopefully my brain while I’m at it. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Just across the hall. Can’t miss it.”

A little bit later and you were finally done for the day, so you helped Tom up and again packed your things.

“Sorry again about earlier. Thanks, though. It really helped.”

“Like I said, we don’t need to talk about it. Just never make that sound again, please. See you Monday.”

And with that you were out the door.

Another week, and Mrs. Flynn gave you another A and a budget condition.

Both you and Tom again won at your respective sporting events, and you again went to Tom’s.

Throughout the week, you and Tom had been on your usual game, firing shots. But at home it was like he was a different person. Sure you still jabbed at each other occasionally, but there was a more friendly aspect to it this week.

You were sitting on the floor when you felt a familiar pain in your lower abdomen.

You ignored it for a minute, but then it hit twice as strong. Immediately you shot up.

“I'm going to the bathroom,” you stated, speaking quickly.

“Uh. Okay?”

You rushed in and as you sat down pulled up your period tracker app.

You weren’t supposed to start for 4 more days.

Well that’s a lie you thought as you caught a streak of red upon wiping.

You dug through the under-sink cabinet, hoping and praying to find something, anything you could use. When that came up dry, you just stuffed up some toilet paper and resigned to getting a tampon from your backpack.

A sense of panic filled your chest, however, when you realized the little bag you kept with extra supplies was nowhere to be found. That’s when you remembered that you had taken it out to replenish and apparently never put it back.

“Oh no. Oh no no no!”

There wasn’t even a single liner at the bottom of the bag.

“What’s got you in a tiff, princess? Don’t we have everything we need already?”

You sighed. You weren’t one to announce when you were on your period, since guys liked to believe that all women become bitches when they bleed. But you were desperate.

“Look, I know you’re gonna make fun of me, but I just started my period and don’t have anything to deal with it and I don’t know what to do.”

“Can’t you just hold it?”

“Ha ha good one. Seriously though I don’t know what I’m gonna do. If I don’t figure out something fast, I’ll bleed through my pants.”

Tom looked at you confused.

“Wait a second,” you started. “You weren’t serious right then, right? Like you do know it’s something women can’t control?”

“WHAT?” he exclaimed. “You can’t?”

“You know, for someone who calls himself so smart you sure are a dumbass. How do you know nothing about periods? You play football, haven’t you had a girlfriend before?”

He got quiet.

“No. I’m too busy competing with you that when I do get free time, everyone gets really intimidated by you.”

“Oh... “ you didn’t know what to say, but then a cramp hit you like a ton of bricks and you doubled over. “Ugh. could you just go get your mom? I need to go back to the bathroom and try not to throw up.”

Eventually, Nikki came and left some midol, tampons, and a heating pad for you and you were able to go back to Tom’s room, finding him leaning against his bed. He sat up straight when you walked in.

“Are- are you okay? You seemed to be in a lot of pain earlier.”

You plugged in the heating pad and turned it on, laying down on your back so you could drape it across your stomach. The midol hadn’t yet kicked in.

“Yeah, I’m good. It was early this month and I just wasn’t prepared,” you said staring at the ceiling, but turned your head to look at him.

“Sorry if what I said was insensitive. I just figured you knew more about it than the average guy and I was so panicked that I wasn’t thinking straight. I’ve never had a boyfriend either. Same situation.”

“Hah, nerd.”

You rolled your eyes and threw a nearby pillow at him.

“Like you have room to talk. Now let’s just finish this so I can go home and take a nap.”

When you got to home ec Monday, you hadn’t spoken to Tom since leaving his house Saturday. Frankly, you were embarrassed about the situation still and figured he felt awkward too.

Then, of course, you learned that Mrs. Flynn had decided to throw the class a curveball to tie the marriage project into regular class assignments.

For a unit on sewing, she was making each couple work together to make a small “marriage quilt” approximately the size of a baby blanket. Partners would have to work together to choose the colors, make a design, and sew it together within 2 weeks in class.

So there you were, sitting in the back corner of the room discussing design options and drawing up a pattern with Tom.

Upon realizing you both loved blue, you decided to make a blue based quilt. There would be little teal and pink accents as well in a couple of the fabrics you chose.

You sat in silence as you both cut small squares of fabric and batting. Other groups were talking, but things still felt heavy.

“Hey, uh. About Saturday…” Tom began quietly from the right of you.

“Please don’t bring it up. Everything turned out fine so let’s just keep it that way. I don’t need you to embarrass me more.”

“No, it’s not that. I just… what you said got me thinking. I know about all kinds of stuff and I’d like to go into medicine one day, but I know nothing about women’s health. So, I spent a good portion of yesterday researching and honestly, I had no idea how much you all go through. We may hate each other, but I respect you a lot more than before.”

“Oh. Wow. You know, I’m sure you read about it yesterday, but it’s super different for everyone. I wouldn’t even consider mine nearly as bad to some peoples’. But that’s really nice of you. And just because we hate each other doesn’t mean I won’t offer to let you ask me questions whenever. Education is way more important than any rivalry.”

He smiled slightly and looked down at his desk, then back up, putting out his left fist.

“Is a fist bump a good enough agreement to let each other ask any kinds of questions like that, no malice intended?” he asked.

You smiled back and hit your right fist to his left one. Eventually you went back to your normal arguing, but you couldn’t stop replaying the scene in your head.

A/N: thanks for reading guys! I’m so so busy with school right now that it’s going to be hard to release chapters weekly but I am trying to keep a somewhat regular upload schedule! I’ve written about 16 chapters so I have a lot of content to share already and there’s still more before I finish. As always, I can’t reply to post replies but my messages and asks are always open!

Tag List: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06

#The Marriage Project #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #high school!tom holland #sam holland #Harry Holland #paddy holland

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ahiddenpath · 3 years ago

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Survey Results + Writing Plans/News

SURVEY IS IN! More on that and my writing plans beneath the cut- PLUS my (tentative) ideas for a (potential) Digiwrimo event during Nanowrimo in November!

So the results are as follows:

Tri: Integrity Lens: 5 votes

Chosen Minor Arcana: 4 votes

Koushiro/Tentomon/Taichi oneshot: 3 votes

Four Years Profiles and Book Binding After August: 1 vote each

Thank you all so much for your feedback and interest! I truly appreciate it.

I took the results and tried to figure out what to do, and my stunning conclusion is... That I’m a crazy person, lol! I can’t possibly keep all of these balls in the air, so here is what I’ve decided:

First priority: Finish the last Four Years chapter before the hiatus. It’s sexy, which means I’m struggling with it, but... Gotta finish that first.

Second: Write the Koushiro/Tentomon/Taichi oneshot for Odaiba Day, make any art/grab screen shots for it. I at least want to draw a cover image with Kou-chan and Tento-chan.

Third: Tri: Integrity Lens. I have 19,000 words for Ketsui, which means that, while I have a fair amount... I don’t even know if it’s halfway done. Probably about halfway? So I’ll have to decide, do I wait until I finish the whole thing, or do I post the “Mimi” half every other week, pause, then post the “Jyou” half?

I am seeing much more interest in the tarot/Minor Arcana than I expected, frankly! So I will get to that, but for now, it will just be in the “what exactly am I doing” stages. I might pick a single card for the twelve Chosen, I might make a post per character and talk about any/every Minor Arcana I think applies to their arc... I don’t think I can do the whole Minor Arcana (56 cards). Like, I just don’t think there’s a good match for every card. So the approach is more complex than the Major Arcana (pick one card per Chosen, essentially).

What I’m getting at here is that you might not see much new material from me until Odaiba Day, when I will post my oneshot (other than the FY chapter I’m working on now). July is going to be dedicated to the oneshot and working on TIL. Hopefully I finish the FY chapter before July- I’m not kidding when I say that sexy stuff is the hardest stuff.

I’ve been posting consistently since January 2021, but now I need to take a pause and sort out my next step. I can’t say I like it, lol, but it has to be done!

Digiwrimo

I will probably make another standalone post for this, since I’m sure a lot of my followers don’t follow my fics (which is perfectly understandable, no shade). BUT YOU BABES GET TO SEE IT FIRST, also please help me bounce ideas around, lol!

SO HERE’S THE THING.

I have always wanted to have Nanowrimo buddies, but joining Nanowrimo is a hard sell. Basically, entrants try to write 50,000 words in the 30 days of November, or 1,667 words/day. It’s brutal, and a lot of writers (reasonably) don’t want to touch it with a ten foot pole.

I would love to create with my fellow digimon fandom writers for a month, so I wondered... Would anyone be interested in a modified Nanowrimo, aka Digiwrimo? Here are my ideas:

Setting goals

Entrants are encouraged to set individual goals that fit their needs. Sample goals include:

-Word count: The traditional 50K, 30K, 20K, 10K, 5K written in the month of November (or whatever month we decide on, it actually... does not have to be November).

-Writing habit/session goals: Make a promise to yourself to write for 60 minutes a day, 30 minutes a day, 15 minutes a day every day in November. They say it takes about a month to establish a habit, so this could be a fun way to set up your daily writing habit!

-Project goals: Finish that oneshot you’ve been meaning to write in November! Write 1, 2, 3 chapters of your fic! Write that meta collection/drabble collection!

There are no prompts/rules/shipping restraints/season restraints/canon or au restraints for your projects. It just has to be digimon content of some kind.

If we work together, it’s much better!

-Discord for Digiwrimo with weekly write-ins

-Declare your project and share updates on the Discord

-A Digiwrimo blog to reblog all posts tagged with an agreed on tag

Share your work

-Digiwrimo entrants are encouraged to edit/complete their Digiwrimo manuscripts for a month or two. Then, anything posted on personal blogs with an agreed on tag will be reblogged on the Digiwrimo blog for signal boosting.

Those are my initial ideas! I have no idea if people would want to do this, I just... I’ve heard a lot of variations on, “I want to try Nanowrimo, but it’s just too much.” I thought this event might be helpful for people? But I’m also not sure if I’ll have time to run it and do my own Nanowrimo project, so I would need help, I think. (Or it could take place outside of November and Nanowrimo, so I don’t make myself crazy trying to do both). I also would love any ideas! For example, I’m not sure what one does at a virtual write-in on Discord.

Would anyone be interested in this? Or maybe there are just way too many events lately? Let me know :D

#writing news #digiwrimo #survey

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purity-town · 4 years ago

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Whoops, didn’t mean to post this so late. Time’s gotten away from me this week, haha. Anyways, a few ask replies are below the cut!

Aw, I’m glad you’re enjoying the comic! It’s the best feeling knowing that folks are liking what I’m putting out. ^^

And yep, bosses are being done in order! I’ll list them out below with how I’m handling each of them for simplicity’s sake:

King Slime -- Will be mentioned, but won’t appear. Probably defeated by a previous hero? I’m not sure, but Chris won’t be fighting it.

Eye of Cthulhu -- The first boss Chris fights.

Eater of Worlds -- Most likely an on-screen boss fight? I’m debating.

Brain of Cthulhu -- This is a Corruption world, so it’s not included.

Queen Bee -- Mentioned, though cut for time.

Skeletron -- Plot important boss battle!

Wall of Flesh -- Also plot important boss battle; actually one of the first scenes I had figured out for the comic, haha.

Mech Bosses/Plantera/Golem -- These most likely will be fought, but I’m not sure how I’ll be handling them. The Mechs at least are plot relevant, we’ll see about the other two.

Optional Hardmode Bosses -- Queen Slime, Duke Fishron, etc. will be cut for time.

Event Bosses -- Things like the Pumpkin/Frost Moon and so on won’t be included.

Other Events -- Solar eclipse, blood moon, etc.; may or may not be included depending on how the story flows with them.

Lunatic Cultist/Celestial Events/Moon Lord -- again, plot important.

Do keep in mind that the above is subject to some change depending on what I want to include, as well as just what I want to be on/off screen. I never really know how I’m going to handle something until I’m actually writing/drafting/sketching that chapter, save for a few scenes that I’ve had planned from the beginning, haha.

Firstly, 🎉🎉🎉 for 200 followers!!!

And as for the question -- it’s a really long story actually, haha. Hence why I’m putting this ask last.

So, I’ve owned a copy of Terraria on Steam since early 2016; I had bought another game and needed something cheap to finish off the gift card. Spent like five minutes on it, said no thanks, and went on. Opened it again a few years later, played for an hour and got frustrated at the controls/opening doors/not understanding tools and put it down again. I only got into it come 1.4 -- having access to journey mode meant I had a lot more freedom to do what I wanted, and since I had previously played a little, I was no longer totally confused by the game.

I went through my first playthrough pretty much blind, and had a lot of fun! I tend to make up little stories while playing open world games, and since I only started playing Terraria after the NPC happiness mechanic came out, I put a lot of effort into getting everyone little houses with their friends and such. I put in a few dozen hours, had a blast, and that was that.

Because it was my first playthrough, I was mostly relying on the Guide and a boss progression list I had pulled up on my phone to get through the game, though to figure out housing I ended up spending a while screwing around on the NPC pages, and realized...hey! Terraria doesn’t have *much* of a story, but it does have enough content to work with.

And then I spent an evening putting together a 20 page document about the game’s lore and characters because I wanted to share my latest fixation with my partner, but didn’t want to annoy them. I don’t recall if they ever did read it -- I think they did? -- but the point is that I had it, and started playing around with the idea of writing a little fanfic based off of it. I planned a few things out, but didn’t end up writing any of it, and then shelved the idea after a little bit.

After that I went through a phase of doing a lot of commissions to get some money for college shopping, then classes started and I was busy, then I got really into HLVRAI, etc. etc. Finally, someone I used to watch years and years ago on youtube posted a Frankenstein: A New Musical animatic. I said “cool!” and then Frankenstein was my latest fixation. I found someone on Tumblr (@/reanimationstation) who draws a lot of Frankenstein art, saw they were doing a cute little gothic lit slice of life comic, and said...hey, comics are pretty neat! What if I did one? I had been recently thinking about my Terraria story, that could be fun to mess with.

So, I drew a two-page comic with the Guide and Old Man talking about their curses, posted it to Reddit, and got tons of nice comments and PMs from people saying that they really liked it and hoped I did some more. I had mentioned it was part of an old fic of mine (I was still debating picking it back up and writing it at the time), and people interpreted that as there being more to the comic. There wasn’t, but I figured: eh, why not? I’ll go for ten pages, enough to squish in a whole first chapter if I keep it short, and if I don’t like it, I’ll stop. I’d always wanted to do a webcomic, after all. This could be fun.

And you know what? It has been fun! I need to get better at managing my time most certainly, since pages take so long, but it’s also serving as a way for me to actually be forced to improve, haha. I can already see how much my style has changed since the first chapter, just from the weekly drawings! Plus, I really do love the characters, haha. It’s been a good while since I’ve been so passionate about stuff like this, and while I don’t post them, I do pretty often write goofy ficlets about the characters just to work on their “voices” and all that. Mostly about Andrew and Chris, since they’ll have the most screen time, so to speak, but overall whatever my latest silly idea is.

So, yeah! Just a bunch of things coming together in such a way that I ended up doing a comic.

#pt asks #Purity Town #not an update

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karmotrinedreams91 · 4 years ago

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Nine Legacies: The Balefire Rekindled Masterpost

Prelude: Magic’s resurgence has changed almost every aspect of life. The “mundane” world cannot deny magic’s existence, and is both fearful and all too curious about its capabilities. Despite public and private pushback against the forces of Olde and Arcane, society must come to accept the presence of Fae and other magical phenomena as something “normal,” just as it did during the golden age of magic. But with the benefits of magic’s return comes the many horrors fueled by it: Vengeful dead have begun to rise, monsters stalk the lands, and legends of old reveal their long denied truths to the “modern” world. Luna Nova itself faces one these emboldened threats now, as a shadowy coven that has plagued the legacies left behind by The Nine Old Witches for centuries plots their destruction yet again. The New Nine and their companions stand firm against the darkness, but it will be the dare-devil firebrand Amanda O'Neill, and the reserved and calculating Constanze Amalie Von Braunschbank-Albrechtsberger who must first answer the call of Olde Legacies. When fate calls them to action, they waste no time in taking up the torch, and light Luna Nova’s way to a brighter tomorrow.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22429150/chapters/62068246

Author’s Note: Hello, and thank you, first off, for reading this post! I hope that I’ve piqued interest! To explain further though, Nine Legacies: The Balefire Rekindled, is the first installment in a series of fanfiction I plan to write, titled under the series name Nine Legacies, as one might expect. This fic, and all of the fics that follow it in the series, are/will be a deep expansion and exploration of the Little Witch Academia world. The main focus of the OG series/ovas was never world building. It was focused on Akko and her journey, and that’s amazing. The original series is possibly one of my favorite and most beloved pieces of media. But it leaves much for the viewer to ponder on, doesn’t it? Who were the Nine Olde Witches? As in, who were they as people? What were they like? What was life really like during the golden age of magic? Where do the Fae come from? How did magical societies organize themselves? How will they do so again now that magic is returned, and how will non-magical, or “mundane” society, as I call it, react to such a sudden paradigm shift? These questions and more are what drove me to write this fic/series. It’s not just an exercise in world building, of course. While that may be one of my great loves when it comes to writing, Nine Legacies is primarily a story about Found Families, love (for the self and others), and how those two things are tested by a world around us that, at times, feels wholly uncaring and apathetic to your very existence. It deals in the above themes as well as in political struggle, fighting for the right to live as you are, with trauma and how to overcome/live with trauma, and especially with the first installment, Balefire, with Vengeance.

It features some horror elements, lots of action, and cosmic horror elements (IE Lovecraftian horror elements; think Cthuluhu, if you’re not aware).

(Credit for above image goes to Alexis Kennedy, and all of the artists who worked on the Weather Factory game named: Cultist Simulator)

It’s not all gloom and doom though; I’m not here to write an unsatisfying story. It may be gritty and grim at times, but I try to balance that out with humor and fluff, both dark humor, and much more light hearted fair that you’d expect from LWA. And yes, it is VERY gay (I’m a trans lesbian woman, if this wasn’t extremely gay then I would have failed myself). This might sound like quite the departure from what you usually read for LWA, and it probably is, but I hope that this is an enjoying and stimulating experience! While it is very much my own canon, I’ve based just about everything I’ve done with the setting on the original series’ material, as well as materials adjacent to the canon, such as mangas, light novels, and the OVAS.

This series will be a four-five part installment of novel length fics. Nine Legacies: The Balefire rekindled, is currently, as of August second 8/2/2020, unfinished, as I write chapter 20 of what will like be 27-28 chapters in total, and it is already the third longest LWA fic on AO3 (archive of our own) at 442,068 words. I began properly writing this fic in full in January, for reference, and started planning out the whole story/what I wanted out of it in november of 2019. I try to update every other week, or every week if possible, and do weekly/two weekly updates on my progress, all posted to this tumblr.

Lastly, and most importantly, there are two things to note about Balefire, and about Nine Legacies as a whole: I give antagonists their own scenes and perspectives quite a bit. I feel it is imperative to my story that the antagonists all get screen time to help better flesh them out. And secondly, each installment in the series will focus on 2-3 of the “New Nine” witches (The New Nine in this case being Red, Green, and Blue teams. Chariot and Croix are NOT New Nine in this, but will play important roles for various characters throughout. Think of them more as mentors for the New Nine). Balefire specifically focuses on Constanze and Amanda, but it also sets up the plots and development for just about every other New Nine witch, and you can expect to see other OC characters in important side roles that will develop and enhance the story, as well as lesser used characters from LWA, such as Wangari making appearances as important side characters. I can’t say much more on the specifics, but I’ll leave this section off with something to entice you: ALL of the Nine Olde Witches (as written by my own canon, essentially) will be fleshed out in full. Their origin, who they were, why they were important, all of that is crucial to the story, hence the series title, Nine Legacies.

“Perhaps they, the new blood.... Perhaps they hold the strength to rekindle our flame.”

I hope all of this has you interested and ready to read! ITS FINISHED NOW! All the main chapters are done, but I intend to go back and do a FULL re-edit, with criticisms, suggestions, and corrections in mind from YOU GUYS, the readers. PLEASE: Never hesitate to send me asks, comment, leave kudos, etc. ALL of that stuff shows me whether or not I’ve done good work, and even if I haven't, telling me HOW I may have failed will always be helpful. I want to make this the best fic it possibly can be, but I can’t do that without reader participation.

Without further adieu: Nine Legacies: The Balefire Rekindled

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22429150/chapters/53589904

#lwa #Balefire LWA #Nine Legacies LWA #Little Witch Academia #fic #fanfic #au #read on ao3 #long reads

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splendidlyimperfect · 4 years ago

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critical hit - chapter 3 [they're taking the hobbits to isengard]

When Sting tells Natsu that one of his friends from school is going to be joining their weekly Dungeons & Dragons game, Natsu isn’t impressed - their table is already full. But while Natsu and Gray’s in-game characters clash completely, Natsu finds that real-life Gray might not be that bad after all.

Chapter Summary: D&D night gets unexpectedly cancelled, but Natsu wants to hang out with Gray anyway.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Pairings: Natsu/Gray, Sting/Rogue

Tags: Modern AU, Dungeons & Dragons, Role-Playing Games, Awkward Flirting, ADHD Natsu, Geek Gray

*i know i haven’t updated this in two whole years (my bad) but i finally got inspiration so thanks for your patience and enjoy <3*

*link to ao3 in the comments cause tumblr keeps fucking up my posts*

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“I’m stoked for this fight tonight!” Natsu grinned at Gray, who was curled up in the passenger seat of Natsu’s car, looking out the window at the slowly setting sun. “We’re gonna kick this thing’s ass.”

“I dunno about that,” Gray replied, fiddling with his necklace. Natsu couldn’t quite make out what the pendant was. “We’re all nearly dead and out of magic. We might be fucked.”

“Pfff,” Natsu scoffed, pulling out of the Starbucks parking lot and heading towards home. “Maybe with that attitude. Don’t worry, we’ll pull a win out of this. We always do! Did I tell you about the time we dropped a house on a dragon?”

Gray shook his head and Natsu launched into the story, complete with wild hand gestures and sound effects. He could feel Gray’s gaze on him as he listened intently, even when the retelling took several unexpected detours. It made something warm grow in Natsu’s chest. Most people in his life were used to his rambling, chalking it up to his ADHD and excitable nature. They usually tuned him out after a while, though, or nodded along while drifting off to something else.

Gray listened, though. He’d shifted in his seat to face Natsu, knee tucked under his leg, coffee held between both hands, and Natsu could feel the deliberate way he followed Natsu’s words. It made Natsu feel important.

He’d just wrapped up another story where they had accidentally created a super-intelligent zombie when both of their phones pinged.

“It’s Sting,” Gray said. “So sorry guys, I can’t make it tonight, work called me in last minute. Can we reschedule for next week?”

Natsu felt a flood of disappointment wash through him as he glanced over at Gray, whose brow was furrowed as he stared at his phone. He was so cute – he had gotten his eyebrow pierced at some point during the week, and it made him even more adorable.

“Well,” Natsu said, chewing on his lip. “That sucks.”

An awkward silence filled the car. Natsu really didn’t want to drive Gray home – he’d been waiting all week to see him, and when Natsu had picked him up, the shy smile Gray had given him had made Natsu feel breathless.

“Well, I don’t—did you wanna, uh…” Gray trailed off, tugging at a loose thread from the hole in his jeans. “I mean I don’t have any, uh, plans? Obviously, since we had—I mean, so maybe we, um, we could…”

“They put all the Lord of the Rings movies on Netflix,” Natsu said quickly, before he could chicken out. For once he was glad for the lack of filter between his brain and his mouth. “Wanna get takeout and watch one of them?”

Before the anxiety could set in, Gray glanced up and gave him a soft smile. “Yeah,” he said. “I’d like that.”

Gray’s favorite food turned out to be sushi.

“You’ve never had sashimi before?” he asked once they’d gotten back to Natsu’s place and unpacked the takeout onto the living room table.

“Is that the rice?” Natsu asked as he settled down cross-legged on the floor. “Or the fish?”

“The fish,” Gray said, pointing at the slices of raw salmon. “It’s good, I promise.”

Natsu gave him a dubious look, then frowned at the chopsticks that Gray handed him. “You’re gonna think I’m totally uncultured,” he said as he peeled off the wrapper, “but I’ve never used chopsticks.”

“It’s not hard,” Gray reassured him. Natsu fumbled with the wooden sticks, glaring at them as he tried to get them to move. “Here,” Gray said, moving closer to Natsu and reaching out for his hands. “Like this.”

Natsu’s breath caught in his throat when Gray’s fingers touched his, settling the chopsticks between them and showing him where his thumb should go. Gray’s hands were cold, and each small touch made Natsu’s heart jump. His cheeks flushed hot when he dropped the chopsticks again, and this time it had nothing to do with clumsiness.

“I, uh, might have to stick to forks,” Natsu said with a nervous laugh. Gray was close enough to him that he could smell his shampoo – something light and fruity that made Natsu want to lean in and run his fingers through Gray’s hair. It looked so soft.

As if reading Natsu’s thoughts, Gray pushed his hair out of his eyes and tucked it behind his ear. Natsu’s eyes followed the movement, and when Gray’s gaze met his, he quickly looked back down at the food, hoping the heat in his cheeks wasn’t visible.

“That’s okay,” Gray said, and it took Natsu a second to realize that he was talking about the chopsticks and not the staring. “You can eat the rolls with your fingers.” He pointed at the second container. “Those ones don’t have fish in them. Just yams.”

“I’ll try the fish,” Natsu said before he could stop himself. He was glad Sting wasn’t here to tell Gray that Natsu had sworn off seafood ten years ago after going fishing with their grandfather and crying when he’d had to gut the salmon they’d caught.

It ended up being better than he’d expected, despite the strange texture.

“I haven’t had sushi in a while,” Gray admitted once they were done the meal. “I ate it every day in Japan.”

“You lived in Japan?” Natsu asked as he stuffed the styrofoam containers back into the plastic bags.

Gray nodded. “Yeah, I was there for an exchange program for a year. I’m from Montréal originally, though.” The soft way he said the word let Natsu finally place the soft accent he’d noticed every once in a while. Of course Gray was bilingual. Was there anything about him that wasn’t perfect?

“That’s awesome,” Natsu said. “When did you move here?”

“Six months ago, for school.” Gray crossed his legs, tucking his feet underneath him as he shifted on the couch cushion. “It’s really different here.”

“I can imagine,” Natsu said. “Have you made it down to Gastown yet? Rogue likes sushi and he says there’s lots of good places down there.”

“Oh, no, I haven’t.” Gray smiled as Natsu’s cat Happy hopped up onto the couch and rubbed himself against Gray’s legs. “I, um… I haven’t really been out too much. By myself.” He ran his finger behind Happy’s ears, who purred happily. “I’m a little—I get kind of anxious. Sometimes. To go alone.”

“I could take you,” Natsu offered before he could stop himself. “There’s so many places here you’d love – Granville Island’s amazing, they’ve got markets and this awesome café, and you’d probably like the art gallery there too. And if you haven’t been to the beach – well, beaches, there’s so many of them, and if you go to Stanley Park you can walk or take a bike, and there’s a…” He trailed off at the overwhelmed expression on Gray’s face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“I’d like that,” Gray said, keeping his eyes fixed on Happy as a small smile crept across his face. “To go, I mean. With you.”

“Oh.” Natsu couldn’t hold in a grin. “Cool. It’s a date, then.”

Gray finally looked up at him and Natsu’s cheeks flushed when he realized what he’d said. Before Gray could reply, Natsu grabbed the remote from the table and thrust it into Gray’s hands.

“You can, uh, pick one. Of the movies,” he said as he pushed himself to his feet. “On Netflix. I’m gonna make popcorn.”

Natsu darted into the kitchen and exhaled, rubbing his face. His phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket.

holy pain in the ass: you’d better be on a date, loser

Natsu groaned – of course Sting had done this on purpose, the asshole.

pyro-manic: you’re a jackass and a liar

holy pain in the ass: i think you mean ‘you’re welcome’

Natsu glared at the screen for a minute, trying to come up with something witty but eventually just shoving his phone back in his pocket.

When he headed back into the living room with the popcorn, Gray was still petting Happy, who had curled up in his lap and was purring contentedly. He’d taken off his hoodie and had rolled the sleeves of his World of Warcraft shirt up just enough that Natsu could see the never tell me the odds tattoo that wound around his wrist.

Natsu tried not to stare. Everything about Gray made him feel like he was thirteen with his first crush all over again. He’d dated other people before, obviously, but none of them were quite like Gray. There was something about him – a shy but carefree enthusiasm for the things he loved that drew Natsu in. It didn’t matter what kind of pop culture references Natsu made, Gray picked up on all of them. He could finish the movie quotes Natsu had memorized, knew all the best cards in Magic, had seen every anime that Natsu loved, and didn’t even tease him about his taste in music.

Natsu’s phone buzzed in his pocket again, drawing him out of his thoughts, and he ignored what he was sure was another text from Sting.

“I hope you don’t mind the subtitles,” Natsu said to Gray, gesturing at the screen as he sat down next to – but not quite touching – Gray. “I always have them on. It’s like, a thing, with my ADHD – auditory processing something? It just makes it hard to catch everything sometimes, the subtitles help.”

Gray nodded, scratching behind Happy’s ears. “It doesn’t bother me,” he said. “I usually have them on, too. It helped me when I was learning English.”

“Awesome.” Natsu took the remote and hit ‘play,’ then settled back against the couch as ‘Fellowship of the Ring’ started to play.

Natsu was glad he’d seen the movie at least ten times, because the only thing he could focus on was Gray. He couldn’t stop thinking about Sting’s text, about the word date, about the fact that he hadn’t felt like this about anyone in years. Natsu’s life was full of people – he was outgoing by nature – but none of them made him feel like Gray did.

They finished the popcorn quickly and Natsu leaned forward to set the bowl on the coffee table. When he settled back into the couch, he was certain Gray leaned into him a little. He held his breath, shifting as if to get comfortable, and ended up right next to Gray with their shoulders pressed together. It sent a thrill through Natsu and he tried his best to ignore the part of him that insisted he was not a teenager anymore and it was silly to get worked up over this. He tried to focus on the movie instead.

“You have my sword,” Aragon said on screen.

“And you have my bow.”

“And my axe.”

“And my vuvuzela,” Gray murmured absently.

Natsu burst out laughing, immediately struck by the ridiculous video he hadn’t seen since in years. “Oh my god,” he said, nudging Gray’s shoulder with his as Gray’s cheeks turned pink. “You’re such a dork.” Before Gray could take offense, he added, “In a good way. I know exactly what you’re talking about and now I’m gonna have that song stuck in my head for the rest of the night.”

Gray laughed. “I just can’t take that scene seriously anymore,” he admitted. “My sister and I used to watch all of these movies on Christmas and quote along to it… it got pretty silly. And took forever ‘cause we’d watch all the extended editions in one sitting.” He played with his necklace as he talked, keeping his eyes on the screen.

Natsu was about to ask why they didn’t do it anymore but stopped himself when he remembered what Sting had mentioned when he’d first invited Gray to join D&D. Gray’s sister had died unexpectedly just before he’d moved here, and Gray didn’t like talking about it.

“We can watch them all if you want,” Natsu offered instead. Gray’s expression shifted and Natsu wasn’t quite sure what it meant – he was hard to read even when they weren’t talking about personal things. But then the corner of his lip curled up in a tiny smile and he nodded.

“If you can sit still that long,” he teased.

Natsu laughed. “Yeah, I might end up upside-down or something at some point. But that’s okay.”

Gray’s smile got a little wider. “I’d like that,” he said softly.

“Okay,” Natsu said. He tried his best to keep a huge grin from creeping across his face. “Cool. Yeah. Me too.”

Natsu managed to sit fairly still until about halfway through ‘The Two Towers.’ They’d had plenty of breaks – including one where they’d pulled up ‘They’re Taking the Hobbits to Isengard’ on Gray’s phone and sang along until they were both laughing hysterically – but it was getting difficult to not fidget. He was about to ask if they could take another quick break when Gray shifted and the back of his hand brushed Natsu’s.

Natsu immediately froze, all restless thoughts banished from his head as he focused on the sensation of Gray’s knuckles against his. They’d been moving closer and further apart all evening, bumping shoulders and knees, but this didn’t feel like an accidental touch. Something about it was deliberate, and this time Gray wasn’t moving away.

Heat sparked in Natsu’s stomach and he stared down at their hands, hoping to hell that he wasn’t misreading Gray’s intentions as he returned the touch. He heard Gray’s soft intake of breath, and several nearly unbearable seconds passed before Gray shifted closer and slid their fingers together. He was warm against Natsu’s side, and when he carefully tipped his head onto Natsu’s shoulder, Natsu was certain that Gray could hear the frantic slamming of his heart.

He exhaled as quietly as he could as he ran his thumb down the side of Gray’s hand, enjoying the soft noise that Gray made in response. His hair tickled Natsu’s cheek, soft and fine, and when Natsu rested his cheek against the top of Gray’s head, Gray hummed happily and cuddled closer.

The uncertainty that had been following Natsu around all night immediately vanished as he let himself relax against Gray, squeezing his hand gently as they pressed against each other. It felt so right. Natsu hadn’t realized how long it had been since he’d cuddled anyone until they were both comfortable and breathing in tandem. He felt more relaxed than he had in years.

The movie kept playing but Natsu barely paid attention. His brain, always in overdrive, immediately started to whether or not he should kiss Gray, if that was moving too fast, if he should maybe put his arm around Gray or whether or not that would be a cheesy high school romcom move. Gray solved the issue a few minutes later by stretching and nudging Natsu’s arm up, then curling up against him.

“I can hear you thinking,” Gray said quietly as the battle for Helm’s Deep raged on in the background. “Or panicking. I can’t tell.”

“I’m not panicking.” Natsu wasn’t sure if he was lying or not.

“Okay.” Gray rested his head against Natsu’s collarbone. “Good.”

The movie came to an end not long after that, but Gray didn’t move. He ran his fingers up Natsu’s arm instead, touching the scar that Natsu had gotten after a motorcycle mishap years ago. Gray traced patterns between Natsu’s freckles, then ran his hand back down and touched Natsu’s palm.

“Are we—”

“Is this—”

They both laughed as they talked at the same time, and Gray shifted until he was looking up at Natsu and they were nearly cheek-to-cheek. Warmth sparked in Natsu’s stomach and he leaned in, nudging Gray’s nose with his own. There was a moment of anticipation where neither of them moved, and then Gray closed the distance and pressed their lips together.

The heat in Natsu’s chest spread as Gray kissed him, rushing across his cheeks and down to his fingertips. He made a soft sound, tipping his head and pulling Gray closer until they were facing each other. Slowly, he reached out and brushed Gray’s hair out of his face, running his fingers through the silky strands. It was just as soft as it looked.

When Gray finally pulled back, his cheeks were flushed pink and he didn’t quite meet Natsu’s eyes.

“I, um…” He bit his lip uncertainly.

“I really like you,” Natsu said quickly before he could change his mind. “Like. A lot.”

“Oh.” A small smile worked its way across Gray’s face. “Good. I like you too. Also a lot.”

Natsu laughed, leaning back in and kissing Gray’s nose. “Sting did this on purpose,” he said, gesturing to his phone that was sitting on the coffee table. “He’s an idiot, but I’m kinda glad he did.”

“Me too.”

Natsu ran his fingers through Gray’s hair again, then pulled him in for another kiss. It was soft and sweet, but Natsu’s stomach still sparked with excitement at the touch. Gray was warm everywhere they pressed together, and Natsu never wanted to let go.

Gray pressed one more kiss to Natsu’s lips, then his cheek, then pressed their foreheads together. “I haven’t dated anyone in a long time,” he admitted, cheeks flushed pink. “I just… can we take it slow?”

“Of course,” Natsu said quickly. He kissed the tip of Gray’s nose. “I’m just happy to—I like spending time with you. And kissing. That’s good—great—too. Really great.”

Gray laughed, squeezing Natsu’s hand and kissing him again. Then he looked back at the TV screen where Netflix was suggesting ‘Return of the King’ as their next film.

“You wanna keep watching?” Natsu asked. “I promised you a marathon.” He looked at the clock, which already read 2:47 a.m.

“Yes? But I know you have to work tomorrow.”

“It’s okay,” Natsu reassured him, grinning. “I actually took tomorrow off because today was supposed to be our last D&D session and I thought it might take all night. Plus, I’m not tired.” He kissed Gray’s cheek again. “Maybe just a little distracted.”

“Just a little?” Gray ran his fingers through Natsu’s hair and surprised him by tugging on it gently.

“Maybe a lot,” Natsu admitted. He ran his hand down Gray’s side, then pulled him closer until he was almost in Natsu’s lap. “But I’m okay with it.”

They both fell asleep on the couch before ‘Return of the King’ was over. When they woke up the next morning in each other’s arms, Gray blushed furiously, but eagerly returned Natsu’s morning kisses.

“I guess I’d better get you home,” Natsu said as he ran his fingers through the tangles in Gray’s hair. “You’ve got class soon, hey?”

Gray nodded. “I’d rather stay here,” he admitted.

“Look, I’m happy to kiss you all day, but I’m also not gonna be the reason you fail your classes.”

Gray raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll have you know that I have a 4.0 GPA.”

“Guess I’m dating a genius then, huh?” Natsu paused. “Are we? Dating? I mean, is that what you wanna—”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Natsu grinned, kissing Gray’s nose, then nudged him off the couch. “C’mon,” he said as he sat up and stretched. “Let’s get you some coffee and get you home.”

Natsu’s pantry was nearly empty, so they stopped for coffee and bagels and ate quietly on the drive back to Gray’s place, holding hands across the console. When they pulled into the dorm parking lot, Natsu let go regretfully and leaned over for a kiss.

“See you on Sunday?” he asked, then shook his head. “No, that’s too long. How about Tuesday? I can take you to Gastown and show you around.”

Gray’s face lit up and he nodded. “Yeah,” he said, smiling shyly at Natsu and squeezing his fingers. “I’d like that.”

“Perfect.” Natsu kissed him again, tasting coffee on his lips. “It’s a date.”

#fairy tail #gratsu #natsu dragneel #gray fullbuster #fanfic #ft fanfic #d&d #dungeons & dragons #fluff #adhd natsu #geek gray #new chapter #update #my fic

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sunnydwrites · 4 years ago

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Making Goals for the New Year

Hey everyone, Abby here with another advice post! As 2020 comes to a close and we hop into the holiday season, we also start to look to the new opportunities we'll have in 2021. That's a whole new year of chances to create and achieve your goals! But setting a goal for an entire year can be... intimidating. Let's break it down.

Let's talk about scale.

How big should your goals be? What's too much, and what isn't enough? One of the biggest things to focus on when you're setting your goals for the year is yourself. You're the only person who knows what you're capable of, and you're the only person who can decide the magnitude of what you want to achieve.

Some examples:

I want to edit three chapters this year. The average chapter in books across most genres is between 2,500 and 5,000 words long. That's a max of 15,000 words that you want to edit... in a year? This goal is probably a bit too small, unless you want to edit three chapters of fifteen books over the course of the year.

I want to draft, edit, and publish two books this year. On the other side of the spectrum, this one might be a bit... much. (Unless you have the experience and know that you can produce quality work during this time.)

I know fully well what I can do in a year, and it's somewhere between two of these goals. What I'm expecting of myself matches that. In essence, what it comes down to is how much you're willing to push yourself. Think of what you know you're capable of doing in a year, then maybe add an extra bonus step.

How many goals should I set?

Again, it depends completely on what you want to do and what you think you're capable of. Keep in mind that goals can also be of different types; I know for me personally, I have writing goals, learning goals, physical goals, and a few more different types. It's important to give yourself some variety so that you can make progress on multiple important aspect of your life.

Here's my list and amount of categories this year:

4 learning / knowledge goals.

3 writing goals.

2 physical goals.

4 personal goals.

And they're all pretty hefty, but because of the variation I know I can achieve them. Because of how my mind and motivation work, the variety means I'll be able to switch my focus between these goals on any given day to achieve them.

Set time tables.

A year is a long time, which means it's a long time for you to procrastinate your goals. When you have a lot of hefty goals that you're looking to achieve, time tables become your friend. You can use quarterly, monthly, and weekly goals as stepping stones for you to get there. It could be helpful for you to buy a planner or a notebook to write out and break down these goals into more manageable steps.

Breaking down goals - just the concept - can even be daunting, so let's use an example. In 2021, a goal of mine is to completely the second draft (first round of edits) for my current main project. Right now, I'm not done with the first draft. So here's what I'm doing to make it a more manageable goal:

Put it into steps. What has to be done to achieve this goal by the end of the year?

Once these are determined, write out exactly what each step entails, down to even minute detail.

Set time estimations for each step, with some wiggle room. (Just in case.)

Consider your deadlines.

Put these steps and deadlines into context.

With that said, here's my previously mentioned goal put into context with deadlines:

January 31st - Finish the first draft.

March 15th - Complete the preliminary readthrough with notes taken.

April 30th - Apply changes into outline and highlight changes that need to be made. Put notes into first draft.

October 31st - Rewrite / edit draft to include all notes and changes.

You'll notice that my final deadline for this goal is a full two months before the end of the year. This is because I'm leaving myself some wiggle room; life happens and it gets in the way, and this should be accounted for. That's a full two months for me to recover any time I might lose, but with this timeline I can say that ideally I'll have one of my goals completed by Halloween 2021.

Other things to consider:

The completion of Goal #1 should not depend on the completion of Goal #2. If you find yourself in this situation, combine them into one whole, larger goal to work for.

You'll likely be pushing yourself, depending on the caliber of the goals you've set. Give yourself time to relax in between, and remember that achievement is not synonymous with burn-out.

You will be a different person by the end of 2021. You'll have experience an entire year, and the things you might experience can change your priorities. Sometimes your goals change, too, and this isn't something to blame yourself for.

At the same time, don't confuse demotivation with burn-out or a loss of interest. If you're setting a year-long goal, it will require commitment.

Best of luck, and happy early New Year!

#writeblr #new year #goals #setting goals #writing goals #writing tips #writing advice #2021

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amazingdriverfics · 4 years ago

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Crowned by the devil - ch. 11

Summary: the next part of the experiment has arrived and you still have to deal with your thoughts about Kylo.

Warnings: smut and mention to slavery

A/N: hey guys, hope you are all doing fine!

Once again I’m late to post a chapter and I am really sorry, I’m trying to post weekly, but life gets in the way, thank u all for being patient.

Hope you guys like it

My masterlist

Previous Chapter Following Chapter

Getting out of bed knowing that you would have to start preparing for the next phase of the damn experiment you had yourself into was already hard. But after spending all night having your inconscient fighting to decide how you felt towards Kylo, waking up felt like a punishment.

Unfortunately, you knew that staying in wasn’t an option. If you weren’t ready by the time Cardo got you for your meeting with Lieutenant Micata - Nitaka or whatever his name was -, he would drag your ass off of bed and force you to get ready as quick as possible and that didn’t really seem like a very pleasant idea as well.

And so you forced yourself off of the bed’s warm embrace to get ready for whatever was coming your way. As you showered, dressed yourself up in the same black clothes you always wore and brushed your hair and teeth, you did your absolute best to keep Kylo and your dreams in the back of your head, Ushar’s words still bothering you.

Luckly, you finished your routine just as Cardo opened the door, not even considering knocking before invading your personal space - as usual -.

“Ready’, troublemaker?” his lighted toned voice echoed through the room as you got out of the bathroom.

“Come on, Cardo, can’t you fucking knock? I could be naked, you know that?” you ignored his question purposely, trying to buy yourself some time, not really interested in meeting Shitake.

“Shit, that would definitely burn my eyes.” he started faking a thoughtful face “Better knock next time. Too bad I won’t” he faked a smile.

“You are an insufferable asshole” you threw your hands up in the air as a giving up gesture.

“Now that it’s all settled, get your ass moving, troublemaker” Cardo said before walking out the door, not waiting for you to follow him.

You followed the knight for the endless pristine and all the same halls, not really paying attention to anything, you had given up trying to understand the endless ship you had been living in for quite a while now. Eventually, he stopped in front of a meeting hall which seemed to be the same as every other room in the ship: monochromatic walls, floor and furniture.

Cardo left you behind with a pat on your shoulder as you entered the space taking a look around.

At the end of the gigantic black table you could see the man you would be spending the rest of your day with. He was an average sized man with dark hair and eyes and skin tone a little bit darker than Kylo’s. By his facial features, you could see that he was insecure and apprehensive with the meeting or with your presence, maybe both.

“Miss y/n” you heard his insecure voice tone as he got up trying to be respectful. That was already a change when compared with the other officers' attitudes - specially Hux’s - and that made you decide that you would like him.

“Just y/n, no need for formalities” you said doing the best you could to be kind to him “Lieutenant …” you kept quiet waiting for him to say the name you hadn’t bothered to learn.

——————————————————————————

You sipped on the caf cup as you listened to Mitaka describe what the two of you would be doing together for the next week. Apparently, the council of dicks which helped Kylo decide things about the First Order policies and actions wanted to see how the contestants to be Empress could develop a plan and talk about politics.

You were completely fucked, you thought to yourself as Mitaka spoke, clearly more comfortable with your presence now. You never had the time to care about politics, since you were too worried trying to survive all the things life had thrown your way. You were also pretty aware that you were far from being what they wanted their ruler to be.

“So I came up with some options for you to develop your politics plan about” Mitaka’s words brought your attention back to the room and you nod as a way to tell him to keep on talking. “There was a recent rebellion on Naboo and we could develop the reasons for why it happened and how to keep the planet under the First Order’s control. I also thought of doing something around the topic of what the Empire failed to accomplish and the reasons that ultimately caused its fall and how we can, as a whole, do better”.

As he spoke, you could see that he was passionate in what he worked with and that he really wanted the best for the Order.

You, on the other hand, didn’t know anything about both topics nor had any interest in them, they just didn’t speak to your soul, if you presented them, you would be presenting a lie and perhaps that might just be what the council would like to see, but you had never lied to please a bunch of disgusting men and you weren’t about to start now.

“Mitaka, I’m sorry to interrupt you.” you started trying to keep a sweet tone, not looking forward to hurting his feelings. “But these themes have nothing to do with me. I never went to a formal school nor did I have the time to learn and talk about politics. Sure I have my opinions, but I was too busy trying to stay alive, you know?”

He nodded and, on the contrary of what you had expected, there was no disappointment in his features, if anything, the young man seemed almost inspired by your words.

“I understand. Can we stop for an hour?” he asked you and before you could even say a ‘yes’ he was out the door.

——————————————————————————

You walked through the halls without having any idea where you were or where you were going, you just allowed your feet to walk in whatever direction they desired.

“Troublemaker” you heard Cardo calling you and your feet automatically stopped.

Turning around, you could see that he wasn’t alone, Trudgen was with him, eyes trained on you just like Cardo’s.

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in a meeting. Have you killed Mitaka?” he asked you, his tone showing that he was indeed worried that you might have killed the lieutenant.

“He needed a break to think about something he didn’t tell me about. So I’m just getting some exercise done” you answered, shrugging.

“Do you even know where you are?” Trudgen finally said something, his lips on a smirk. Stars, why was he so annoying?

“That’s classified information” the answer left your mouth causing Cardo to laugh.

“Come on, troublemaker, let’s get your ass back to the meeting room”.

“I don’t know why Kylo thought it was a good idea to drag my ass into this” you mumbled, head supported by both of your hands as you looked at the knights trying to get some explanation to their master’s act.

“Oh hottie, Master Ren doesn’t fit in this organization as well, neither do us” Trudgen started, for the first time since you met him, being serious. “We are all here because we know how to fight our way in and that’s why he chose you, because you fought your way out of slavery and into this experiment” he pointed his index finger at you.

As you looked to Cardo, you knew that it was true and, well, if Kylo got to the position of Supreme Leader being just the way he was, you could do whatever those stupid men expected you to.

“Guess I’ll find a way to do this stupid presentation” you whispered, still not that confident.

“That’s it, troublemaker, don’t give up just yet” Cardo tried to get your spirits up and it caused a slight smile to crack on your features.

The talk was interrupted by Mitaka, he walked into the meeting room with his arms filled with paper and archives and you got up to help the man, since it seemed like he was about to be buried by them all.

As you took half of the pile of his hands, his face finally became visible and you could see a thankful smile as he tried to reach the table. With the new amount of things now in your hands, you walked to the place you had been previously sat at.

“You can do this” Cardo said before walking at the door with his companion knight, leaving you, the endless pile of paper and Mitaka behind.

“Okay, Mitaka, what is this all about?” you asked, sitting on the chair once again and getting mentally ready for his new ideas.

“So I re-read your file trying to get a better insight on things that you could really relate to, when this brilliant idea came up to me. Are you ready?” Mitaka asked, his eyes glimmering with excitement as each word left his mouth and you nod, starting to feel excited for his presentation as well. “I was thinking to present about why the First Order should abbolish slavery in the planets we rule ''.

The words went straight to your heart and you had to do your best to avoid tears from falling, the idea hadn’t come to your mind because you had never thought that anyone with enough money and power could ever care about people like you. And the realization that you might be able to do something to change the reality of millions all around the Galaxy lighted a fire inside that you never knew existed.

——————————————————————————

You were in the tub chilling when you heard someone opening the door and, if it weren’t for the heavy footsteps you were now so used to, you would be probably frightened to death.

“Knights don’t know how to fucking knock?” you shouted, playing with the bubbles covering your body.

“This is my ship” he replied nonchalantly as he started to take off the incredible amount of layers covering his body.

“Okay, not in the mood” you whispered to yourself, already starting to make room for his enormous figure in the tub.

You watched as he got naked in all his glory, every inch of his perfect and toned body in display for you to admire.

In no time, he was in the tub with you, his thighs touching yours as you both stared into each other's eyes, silence winning in the end.

Slowly, his hand started to travel away from his body, touching your calf at first, his eyes never leaving yours. He massaged the skin before going up, calloused hands used to cause so much pain and death now gently pressing your skin, looking forward to giving you pleasure.

He kept his torturous pace while touching his way up your cunt, playing with your skin, tempting it with his small nails and thick fingers, building up the lust inside of you as his eyes showed you that he was enjoying it just as much as you.

You found it funny how much pleasure Kylo could find in giving you pleasure once you had associated selfishness with his image, never expecting that you would me defenceless to his touches.

He dragged the moment even further, testing your resilience, dying to know if you would give into your carnal needs and beg for his touch you were certain, but you were just as tough as the knight and you were not going to let him win this round.

Eventually, after teasing your inner thighs for what seemed like forever, Kylo gave up the unannounced battle going in between the two of you, exploring your folds with his index finger.

The attitude caused a silent moan to leave your mouth, which stayed open. You felt as he dragged the tip of his finger up and down, pressing your clit ever so lightly whenever it touched his finger and teasing your whole with the same strategy.

Despite his efforts, however, your eyes kept glued to his, watching the hunger and yet determination engraved in them as need started to fill up your brain and fog your will to win.

It took you by surprise when Ren finally gave your sore nub the deserved attention and a loud groan left your lips, echoing through the bathroom as if mocking just how bad you craved and was affected by his touch. You knew that it was a win to him as well and the smirk on his perfect face shouted loud and clear for you to listen.

Before you could recover, Kylo started to move his finger, rubbing your clit with the right amount of pressure, sending shivers down your spine and fire through your veins. Your inner walls clenched around nothing begging to be touched, reminding you how good it felt when he filled you up with his thick and big cock and it made you aware of just how easily he could win this battle over your body.

He continued with his pace, a pace that was enough to bring you some release, but not the ultimate release that you craved. Not to make you squirm and scream under his ministrations, not to make your legs tremble as you forgot your name. And it drove you mad, because he was making clear to you that it would never hit you if you didn’t beg for it.

You tried to stand your ground, focusing on your warrior side, but he knew your body too well and as you felt the rhythm become quicker, taking you too near the edge, you gave up. Your eyes left his, as your head fell back and the words left your mouth: “Enough, Kylo, you won”.

As soon as you declared your loss, he picked up the pace, trading his index finger for his thumb as two of his fingers met your whole, breaking the resistance it offered and quickly filling you up, massaging your walls that clenched as a thank you and lightly touching the inner spot that caused you to see stars.

You felt as they curled inside of you making you moan and as they left you, before being pushed into you once more, keeping up with the pace that his thumb dictated, making sure that you could experience and enjoy the sensations he gave you.

You knew what he was doing, he was showing you that he owned your body, he was making clear that you couldn’t fight him and the worst part was that, despite your brain shouting that you couldn’t give into it, your every cell betrayed you, telling it to shut up, because Kylo could please you and give you things that no one ever could.

It didn’t take too long for your body to explode in pleasure, his fingers teasing your cunt as his thumb teased your clit became too much too quickly and you did just what he wanted. You screamed his name, you trembled, you milked his fingers and spilled your release on them as you grabbed his arm trying to find support.

You were definitely fucked.

#crowned by the devil #kylo ren #kylo x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x reader #kylo x you #knights of ren #supreme leader kylo ren #star wars #cardo #trudgen #adam driver #first order

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imaginesbymk · 4 years ago

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PINK + WHITE.

—CHAPTER SEVEN ; FINN, ALL GROWN UP.

summary: teresa’s permanent resignation from the peaky blinders leads her to a whole new chapter of working in an art museum. but little did she know her best life would be butchered some time later when her former lover tommy shelby gives her no choice but to return to the peaky blinders after they make new enemies, with the leader, of all people, being the man teresa fell in love with one night after a wedding reception back in post world war; luca changretta.

pairing: luca changretta x OC x tommy shelby

tags in this chapter: swearing, smoking

[ chapter index / meet my oc / wattpad link ]

"Just remember, never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line." - The Princess Bride (1987)

"PENARTH ART GALLERY." Tommy cleared his throat before speaking to the operator on the telephone. He pulled a long drag off his cigarette as he waited, even though he knew his call would lead to no avail. He hasn't heard back from her in hours. It wasn't even that difficult of an instruction: reach back to him with her mind made up once she finished her errand in Camden town. Either Teresa forgot, was abducted, killed, or she never kept true to her word when she agreed to phone him. Tommy needed a response so desperately. It had been a while since the vendetta began, and he doubt he would be spared a second to take a deep breath before the Changretta mob comes in to take them out by surprise. He needed an answer now.

No response. He slams the receiver shut, almost nearly breaking the telephone, and sighs. If Tommy had to pick up and reach the operator, the same response of no communication on the other end of the line would come up once more. No point.

Groaning in exhaustion, Tommy rubs his nose bridge as Polly walks in, noticing him leaning back in his chair.

"I told you," she says. "she won't come back."

Tommy grunts. "She will. Just give it a few hours."

"We gave her a day, Tommy. Now we're giving her a few hours?" Polly slams Tommy's diary containing weekly schedules & anything important jotted in black ink, each were separated with a blank box. She flipped to the bookmarked page that highlighted one day of the week, a star coloured in the margins. She jabs a finger on it. "The boxing match. We're losing time."

"Yes, Pol. I'm aware," Tommy says, annoyed. It's not like he wasn't giving Aberama Gold's son a dream of being a boxing champion and possible boxing career in exchange for extra hands to have blood on them in a vendetta. "And what other things I'm aware of that you have to tell me?"

"Are you also aware that Teresa Griffith is no walk in the park—"

"Neither of us are, Polly."

"Are you aware that Teresa Griffith is no walk in the park," Polly repeated her sentence, sternly this time, "and that begging for her help is no use? We've got what we already need, why do you still need her? You miss her?"

"Teresa will reach out to Luca Changretta."

"For what? A fuck while he isn't looking?"

"I've dug deeper, Pol. He's scavenging for things to claim in all of Britain. If he'll start with Alfie Solomon's business, that means he's not shy to come after Teresa's. The Penarth art gallery will be signed under the Changretta name so she will try to withdraw the unjust negotiation, which will give us more time to reach out to Michael's updates before Bonnie and Goliath will face each other in the ring." Tommy slammed his diary, brushing off his wonder on how Polly was able to gain access to it in the first place when it's usually Lizzie who technically is only allowed to touch it.

Polly stared at him with a hint of dread.

"What is it?"

Frustrating as it is, Polly really didn't have the answer to pinpoint. "I read her tea leaves before she walked out on us. It said she'll lose what she loves the most."

"What or who?"

"I couldn't tell. But I imagine it being her new chapter. But now it makes much more sense. She'll lose the gallery, perhaps."

Tommy leans forward to look up closer to Aunt Polly. "So like I said, give it a few hours. I know she will come back. I doubt she keeps a handgun in her glove compartment anymore. I'll ensure her safety and keep the gallery up under her name. She needs us just as much as we need her."

Polly let out a small sigh, collecting the heavy-weighted diary to carry out with her through the same way she came in. Let's hope...

Returning to Penarth was a relief. Teresa was far away from the next person who could get on her last nerve, unless one of the tour guides or management decides to point out a small circumstance to the owner, but the Welsh woman found comfort and bliss when she looks up at a painting made by an iconic artist that speaks through their canvas.

"We should really put up more exit signs, Miss," one of the tour guides said to Teresa as they walked down the halls together. "some of the guests have been getting lost with the new corridors. And they were wondering about the empty room upstairs?"

"I've spoken to people from Nice. They loved what we did with the exhibition and they want to place up more paintings, so I saved some extra room."

"On... the second floor?"

"Why not?" Teresa shrugs. "We've set up enough for the main floor, second floor should be okay as well." And she walked down the opposite direction, hoping the tour guide wasn't gonna follow her and object the display plans.

"Miss Griffith," an exhausted employee rushes over to her, clearly out of breath from searching around the entire building for one woman. "Your office is being blown up with phone calls from Birmingham."

Teresa frowns. Did Mr. Shelby not take the hint already?

"Shall I leave a message?"

"Just ignore it. Probably someone looking to pest. We've no time for that," Teresa let out a sigh, continuing down the way she meant to go through, passing a couple of guests who read each art piece like a picture book. She had to frown again. The least she could do was answer one phone call from the man, say the word and he'd leave her be. Ignoring him would push him towards her even more.

Teresa rested her walking by standing in front of the painting. The painting, to emphasize—the one Luca pointed out to her when they first met. She hadn't looked at it in so long. Every time she passed that wall, she just had to avoid making eye contact. How ridiculous it is to look away from art, which is the opposite of the common reaction. But it was a painting only Teresa felt like a curse. Teresa doubted Luca even cared about what the painting was, since his excuse to reel her attention was to poke fun about what she loved. If only she could gain that much luck of approval to remove the piece off of that wall with her bare hands. Disrespectful and unprofessional, yes. But if she had the chance to, she would do it.

Now his voice spoke just as loud as the form of the oil painting. You were just another woman.

Teresa shook her head. It was indeed an awkward encounter, and if she had to describe it; maybe it was a heartbreak about another.

It doesn't matter anymore. Luca is here on business, to kill the man whose phone calls you're ignoring, but that is okay. You're not a Peaky Blinder. It's time to turn around and move on...

She did turn around actually, just to be greeted with another familiar face.

"Finn?"

SHE had to chuckle in disbelief. Seeing Finn holding a cigarette in his hand so casually just proves that he was no stranger to the addicting habit. He was the youngest of the family and Teresa used to chase him around the streets in a game of tag. He was much shorter than she was, voice higher, and after watching them, he mimicked the little things his older brothers did, even though it was dangerous for a young boy like him to fully understand.

"Do they know that you're here?" Teresa took a puff out of hers.

"Arthur sent me," Finn replied.

Teresa rolls her eyes. "Right," she mutters under her breath. She kicked a few rocks on the large paved steps that laid out as the entrance of her gallery. "Don't tell me. You're here to scold me for ignoring Tommy. It's not like I don't get migraines from my telephone ringing so fucking much."

"Why are you avoiding him, Teresa? Even when you were at the Garrison, agreeing to let Tommy fill you in on what needs to be done. He would of thought you got shot, otherwise."

"I went to Camden and then came back here."

"Without giving him a final decision?"

"He should get the hint by now. Is that bastard so desperate for a decoy? I doubt the Italians would fall for another trap." That was another thing she was informed about. Polly and Tommy's plan was a semi-success, however Luca Changretta is still alive, and his blood must be boiling because of how much time he had wasted sparing Michael's life when he had the chance to shoot him in cold blood.

"Luca Changretta will come after Alfie Solomons' business, as he will yours," Finn says. "He will come here and make you hand it over to his family or he will kill you. Whether he does that before or after killing us all, it will happen sooner or later."

Typical Luca. If he really thought she was just another woman, he would definitely threaten her over her business. "Did Tommy tell you to say all of that?" she chuckled.

Finn shrugs. "Maybe. But it's good that you know now. So, that gives you a valid reason to help?"

Teresa grinned. "The last time I saw you, you wore tiny suspenders, even your shoes were tiny. I could of lifted you like a doll from a toy store. Look at yourself, Finn."

"I can't, that's physically impossible."

"Finn, all grown up!" Teresa teases, using her hand to pinch together his rosy cheeks.

Finn groans in annoyance, rubbing his cheek to sooth the stinging pain after shoving her hand off him. "Fuck's sake, Teresa! We need you! You were big help when you were last with us, and you can still be the big help. Seriously, you're all our last bet."

"Tell Tommy I need more time to think about it."

"Teresa, there isn't any more time. We're out of it. We need a solid answer now."

"You guys did fine without me. Am I still being used a distraction? What if Tommy wants me as a mole?"

"He won't. That's not something we do often, most of the time it doesn't end up working out."

"Finn..." Teresa shook her head, taking him seriously this time. "I can't help kill Luca Changretta. I thought about it but I promised to never get involved with the Peaky Blinders, or anything that would paint me as a criminal. If things didn't happen the way it did, I would of said yes without a second thought."

Finn furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about?"

She let out a soft sigh, hoping the pain would burn out like the end of her cigarette. "Because I knew Luca. He and I were once lovers."

+ basically,,,,, teresa wants to help but at the same time she doesn't want to help lmfaoo.

#pink+white #tommy shelby #luca changretta #luca changretta x oc #luca changretta fanfiction #luca changretta fanfic #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x oc #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders #oc

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alright--okay · 4 years ago

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you ever been to a basement show? pt. 2

tsukishima kei x reader

summary: Tsukishima sees you everywhere, and for a big school thats weird. And it’s not like he’s gonna do anything, that’d be even weirder, but one day in your shared lecture he sees you wearing a shirt with some small band’s name. A band he know. And well, now he has to know who you are.

word count: ~2.1 k

a/n: the first five chapters are already on ao3 so imma post them here real quick, hope anyone reading enjoys!

read on ao3!

pt. 2 Fine, Great - Modern Baseball

When you had first brought up a “basement show,” he had no idea what you were talking about. Tsukishima didn’t go to concerts, let alone ones held in sketchy, leaky, low-ceilinged basements with bands comprised of angsty college kids.

But it seemed fun.

You had lit up with the mention of them, so there must be something to them and he wasn’t about to ruin his attempt at friendship before it even started and spend the rest of the semester awkwardly running into you (which, as established, happened often).

After replying that no, he had never been to a basement show (or knew of their existence but you didn’t need to know that), you quickly whipped out your phone.

“Okay so there’s this huge group chat where the local bands post their shows, I can add you.” you handed over your phone, letting him type in his number. “If I manage to convince my roommate to come with me, I’ll be at the show on Saturday at the Pigpen,” you continued to ramble about the bands that were supposed to be there but Tsukishima was quickly getting lost.

“Pigpen?” Tsukishima questioned. What kind of place in the middle of Tokyo was called the Pigpen?

You let out a small laugh, “I know, some of the places that hold these things come up with some weird names. But don’t worry, no pigs will be present. It’d be cool to see you there.”

“Oh already desperate to see me again? I haven’t even left yet, l/n.” Tsukishima gave you a smirk, returning your phone.

“With that wonderful smile, how could I not be?” you said, fanning yourself, “It just won’t leave my mind and your lanky body in those loose sweatshirts? My god! I can’t take it!” You smiled up at him, as you both fell into step with each other, making your way out of the lecture hall.

“I’m glad you can admit it.” You laughed again, and okay Tsukishima was glad he sat next to you.

“So, do you think you’re gonna come?”

“I’ll … have to see. I might already have plans.” That was a lie. Tsukishima definitely did not have plans but he wasn’t about to admit that too you. At most he would spend the weekend watching movies with Yamaguchi or avoiding Kuroo and Bokuto. Yeah, it as nice to live with people he knew from high school, Kenma and Akaashi were quiet, good roommates, but dealing with the visiting pair on an almost weekly basis could be a lot, to say the least.

“Well, if you decide you want to go, let me know. I can give you the address and it’s always nice to know someone among a crowd of strangers.”

Tsukishima kept a neutral face as the two of you continued walking, but he couldn’t help but agree.

~~~~~~

“Yachi, please! I swear no one will murder you, I’ll be with you the whole time, promise!” You had been begging your roommate for the last few days to come to this show with you, and in the last few hours, you were hoping she’d finally agree.

“But what if-”

“Nope! You have already told me every scenario. And I am telling you,” you gently grabbed her shoulders, “it will be fine, I will not let anyone kidnap or mug you.” You released her, gaining hope by her almost calmed expression. “Besides, I think a guy from one of my classes is gonna come so we’ll have even more back up.”

Tsukishima had texted this morning, apparently whatever plans he had fell through, leaving his night open for the show. You couldn’t lie to yourself, you were kinda happy about that. Tsukishima seemed cool, and despite trying to go to shows often, you didn’t know that many people in the scene. Having a more reliable concert buddy than Yachi was definitely a good idea, especially someone who could scare away any creeps like the intimidatingly tall blonde.

“Alright, I’ll go.” Yachi finally conceded. She was obviously still anxious but had calmed down considerably since you had first brought it up, “But you’re cleaning the bathroom for the next month.”

“YES, okay that’s fine. Really, don’t worry, we’re gonna stick together. Come on, let’s get ready.”

~~~~~~

“Hey, hey! Where you going Tsukki?” Kuroo called from his position on the couch, Kenma lazily draped across him, switch in hand. Tsukishima was lucky only Kuroo decided to stop by this week, he didn’t know how he’d leave if the rambunctious duo were both questioning him.

“Out.”

“Huh? Where? Your only friends are right here.” Kuroo continued to question, smirk firmly in place.

“Where did you get the idea that we were friends?”

“Tsukki~” Kuroo drew out his name, “We all know I am your best friend-”

“Not true.”

“And so,” he continued, “I just want to know where my dear BFF is going on a Saturday night.”

“Again, not your BFF. And again, out. I should be back later tonight.” Tsukishima really didn’t need this right now. Who knows how long and in-depth Kuroo’s questioning would get? You said the music started at nine and it was already approaching 8:30, and he still had to make the ten-minute walk to the address you had sent him.

Tsukishima knew you were probably just being nice to him. He had made it clear in your first meeting that he didn’t get to talk about music often so you were probably just giving him the in. You got him in the group chat, maybe you’d see each other at other shows on the weekend and in class during the week, and that was it. You could wipe your hands clean of Tsukishima Kei and continue as you were. He hoped he was wrong.

“Wait, Tsukki-” before Kuroo could continue, Tsukishima shout a quick goodbye into the apartment and closed the door behind him, letting out a sigh as he did so.

He was getting to this basement show.

~~~

As he approached the address you had given him, Tsukishima couldn’t help but pay attention to his surroundings. Instead of the larger apartment buildings that were closer to campus, he was now in a more residential area. Rundown houses lining the streets, some with slightly overgrown lawns. Most probably being rented by other college kids who wanted a cheaper rent.

Tsukishima didn’t venture this far from campus often but while reaching his destination he was met with two guys around his age standing at the edge of the driveway.

“You here for the show?” One of them asked. Tsukishima gave them a curt not, handing over a small pile of yen to his outstretched hand. “Okay just get marked and then you can head in through the door in the back.” Tsukishima gave another nod as the other grabbed his hand, marking the back with a black smiley face and letting him pass.

As Tsukishima slowly walked to the back of the house, the chatter of college students leaking from the opened basement door, he looked down at the smiling face on the back of his hand. He couldn’t stop his own small smile from creeping its way onto his face.

Getting to the basement required a lot more ducking than Tsukishima would have liked, and even now in the more open space, he had to watch where the rafters and pipes on the ceiling were.

“Tsukishima!” Turning his head to the voice, he looked over to see you, bathed in the cheap red glow of the LED lights lining the walls. You were smiling at him (good sign) and gave him a small wave as he continued to approach (also a good sign).

“Tsukki!?”

Tsukishima turned his gaze downward, met with the sight of his former volleyball manager. “Yachi? What are you doing here?”

“You guys know each other?” You questioned, looking between the two.

Yachi turned to you with a smile, “Yeah! Me and Tsukki went to high school together. He was on the volleyball team when I was a manager. Him and Yamaguchi came to Tokyo but I haven’t seen either of them in a while.” Your mouth forming a small ‘o’ as Yachi went on.

You turned back to look at him, “So you know Yamaguchi? Yachi talks about him sometimes.”

It took Tsukishima a second to respond, still processing the fact that you knew Yachi, were roommates with Yachi. And you had heard of Yamaguchi (but not him which was fine). What is happening right now? “Um, yeah. We’ve been friends since elementary school, we’re roommates actually.”

The three of you continued with light conversation as the band finished setting up their instruments.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?” The band was meant with light cheers from the crowd, “I want to thank everyone for coming. Shoutout to the Pigpen for having us. We’re Destroy Boys and this is I Threw Glass at My Friend’s Eyes and Now I’m on Probation.” Immediately Tsukishima was met with the intense guitar and thumping drums, heart pounding in time with the bass being blasted through the speakers dispersed throughout the basement.

Beside him, Yachi was bopping her head, much calmer now with you and Tsukishima with her, and you were dancing while straining your neck to look at the band near the back of the basement, mostly blocked from the crowd in front of them.

Tsukishima focused on the wild crowd, it honestly couldn’t be considered a “crowd” anymore, that was a mosh pit. He has never been to a concert before, but he recognized the push of a circle and the bodies jumping into each other.

The first song came to an end, met with loud screaming from the temporary calm mosh pit.

“Whose moshing?” You asked him and Yachi, a borderline wild look in your eyes.

“Not happening,” Tsukishima replied at the same time as Yachi’s panicked no.

“Alright fine, but you guys stick together and stay here, I can’t lose the only people I know here. I’ll come back after a song or two.” You said, handing your coat to Yachi’s waiting hands and giving them a smile before rushing into the pit as the next song came back just as strong as the first.

“Is she always like this?” Tsukishima asked Yachi, ducking down towards her ear so she could hear him over the music.

“If it’s just me and her, she chills in the back with me, but I guess with you here she feels okay letting me just watch while she goes a bit … wild.” The two looked back at the pit where you were, jumping and laughing and bumping into people as you screamed the occasional lyric.

Yeah, he was gonna start coming to these things more often.

~~~

“I can’t believe you would say Remo Drive’s second album is better than their first!” You ranted. The three of you were making your way home from the show to your respective apartments, which turned out to be only a block from each other.

“I can’t believe you are disrespecting the growth of supposedly one of your favorite bands.” Tsukishima was having fun; from the talks between sets at the basement show to now the walk home, you and him had been debating bands, albums, songs, everything with Yachi often chiming in or laughing at the two of you.

“I would never, first of all, and second, you can’t tell me there was a complete vibe change after Sam left.” You continued, “Greatest Hits was a fun, emo album and they completely changed their style after that!”

Tsukishima remained quiet. You had a point. The second album was pretty different and you weren’t the only person who had shared similar remarks on it.

At his silence, you replied, “That’s what I thought you complete imbecile.”

“Imbecile? Who are you?”

“Not an imbecile, that’s for sure.”

“Can you spell imbecile for me?”

“This is not the argument we were having and I refuse to partake in your attempt at slander-”

“Alright, what about necessary?”

“I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

“How can you not spell a stupidly common word?”

“I really don’t need this harassment in these trying times, okay?” Beside the two of you, Yachi broke out into giggles, “Yachi,” You dragged out her name, “please stop laughing at me.”

“I swear it isn’t at you, y/n, I’m laughing with you.”

“It’s okay Yachi, you can say it, I’m laughing at her too.” Tsukishima said with a smirk and small chuckle.

You and Yachi slowed down, reaching the entrance of your building, “Well that’s enough y/n-hating for today, assholes, I’ll see you in class on Monday, Tsukishima.”

“Bye Tsukki! Tell Yamaguchi I say hi.” Tsukishima raised his hand to say goodbye as the two of you entered your building, smiles still on your faces, and looking at your retreating figure definitely did not make his heart beat just a tad faster (he swears).

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukki x reader

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