#me and my friends were struck by inspiration literally last night | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ntoraplayschoices · 1 year ago

Text

Well! I finally finished that Valax fanfic I was writing. YAY!

Did my interes t in Valax start as a bit of a joke? Yes. Kind of. A little. No.

Is it a joke anymore? You guess. (Nah )

The idea actually was inspired by a tiktok from @/book0bsessedd !

Here it is on ao3. (Not the tiktok, just my fanfic. That wasn' t so funny sorry )

Remember to drink some water, have some food and stay safe and well! <3

Thank you so much for indulging me and my little fanfic ! Hope you enjoy!

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

It was another one of those nights they had lately. Tired -in every possible way- but restless once they finally laid their body on some makeshift bed or the cold, hard ground. So, instead of tossing and turning (and listening to their friends’ sleepy mumbles and snoring) they decided to head up this relatively low cliff above them.

Traveling like this had some perks despite the stressful situation they were in. It was a wonderful opportunity to explore parts of the world they hadn’t seen yet- well, that was most parts of the world but still.

They sat at the edge, their legs hanging and moving back and forth lazily. Their bored, almost pouty expression, switched to a huge amused grin as their eyes widened and their back straightened when they looked up to confirm- yes!

Huge, bright and beautiful lines ripped the night sky. They let out a soft, excited giggle. It has been years since they have seen a meteor shower. The last one was when Kade and they were but young kids, barely the age of ten. Their expression turned wistful and bittersweet.

Kade. Sweet, sweet Kade.

What was he up to? Did he think of them as much as they thought about him? Did he miss them as much, too?

Memories flooded their head- memories of Kade and them as kids, getting up to all sorts of trouble. Them as teenagers and adults- doing exactly the same.

They smiled, and it was one of the rare genuinely carefree smiles they had since they returned from the shadow realm.

They focused on the constellations Kade made out for them when they were kids, laughing softly at the names he chose and the memories themselves. They could remember Kade oh-so-seriously explaining the made-up constellations and themselves nodding along seriously.

They grinned amused when another meteor ripped across the sky.

They were so amused by the meteors that they didn’t even hear the - familiar by now- portal being opened behind them- the literal rip of reality wasn’t enough to get their attention (!) and Valax, face hardened and glaive in one hand, throbbing shadow magic in the other, stared at their unmoving form confused, eyes blinking.

As she was about to make her presence known, she noticed their expression- grinning and awed, light reflecting in their eyes. Her expression softened slightly mirroring Raine as she looked at theirs and she scolded herself for it, quickly hardening her features once more.

She followed their gaze and her own lips parted in surprise, eyes big as she took in the sight. The shadow magic disappeared from her hand and her other arm relaxed, the large glaive hanging loosely from it, grazing the ground for a moment. Awe-struck, looking up at the sky, she forgot all about the hunt and Raine’s blood and whatever other nonsense she was thinking besides the flashes of light across the sky.

“What is that?” she mumbled softly, her deep voice carried by the soothing breeze. Raine’s expression shifted to one of horror as they glanced over their shoulder, clumsily reading their weapon.

They cussed at themselves quietly for not realising she was there sooner.

Valax barely spared a glance at them, raising a hand to stop them before pointing at the night sky, her black and long nail looking too much like a claw. Raine gulped.

“I-It’s a meteor shower,” they replied, their voice slightly shaky. Despite the fact their friends were close, they were alone out here with her and she was obviously not here to chat.

They glanced down at their friends’ sleeping forms, their voice caught in their throat.

Valax, as if in a trance, moved closer to the edge of the cliff, her eyes only looking up. At some point, Raine even thought she’d fall off, but she just sat at the edge- keeping a relatively big distance from them. They thought that was for the best.

Their shoulders tensed and they gripped their weapon just in case.

Memories of their past encounters flashed in their mind, memories of Valax picking them up by their throat and squeezing, or tearing their arm to get their blood with no sympathy whatsoever.

They glanced down, the skin of their lower arm bruised and they winced at the painful memory.

Valax’s voice snapped them out of their thoughts.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” she confessed, voice softer than Raine had ever heard it.

They glanced at the night sky, smiling faintly at the sight, before looking back at her.

“You don’t have anything similar in the Shadow Realm ?” They asked, despite already knowing what her answer would be. It was weird, asking her questions like this, their life not being threatened.

She scoffed, resentment sneaking into her voice.

“No. Just storms. Nothing like this.”

Raine hummed and tore their eyes away from her form, now looking at their swinging legs. Below them, Raine’s friends, sleeping, peaceful and unaware.

They felt a pang of something in their body- hurt? Ache? Anger? They didn’t know. They didn’t even know what for.

They sighed, glancing at Valax again. She had lowered her guard, at least a bit. Maybe this was their opportunity to finally get some answers.

“Why do you want to conquer the Light Realm anyway? I mean… Look at this-” They gestured softly at the sky. They knew trying to change her mind was not possible- and they weren’t trying to. They just wanted to understand her better.

“Why ruin it? You seem to like it.”

Valax’s expression turned into a scowl, her eyes turning to them. Her look made them shiver softly. It could have been the wind, but they were certain it wasn’t.

“I told you. My mother, the Empress, wants to reclaim it. What is so complicated about that? Besides, nothing will happen to the sky or your realm’s natural habitat.”

Raine raised their hands slightly, as if in some sort of surrender.

“Sorry, sorry. Just asking.” They found what she said difficult to believe.

Their eyes darted back to the stars, their voice softer as they craned their neck slightly to look at the sky better.

“How could you enjoy anything like this when there’s so much war and pain around you, though? The shadow court itself didn’t care for the mess it left the world in, and they grew up in the light realm. What would make you and your army preserve something you have no ties or links to ?”

They asked, but no answer came. After a few moments, they gulped, curiosity getting the best of them.

“Why is your mother so…obsessed with it though? I mean, most people wouldn’t go through the trouble of capturing someone, experimenting on them -which, creepy, by the way- and then hunting them down without a break . So, why do you go through all the trouble to do all that for a realm you’ve barely interacted with?”

Raine asked, and despite their obvious feelings for the Ash Empire and all of this mess, the question was genuine.

Valax’s reaction though didn’t change. It actually became more hostile.

She scowled again.

“As if you would understand.” She spat, tone harsh and dismissive.

“It’s none of your business anyway,” her familiar scowl, her firm tone filled with an anger that felt about to explode and consume them, made them both shiver and clench their fists.

Raine sputtered and chuckled in disbelief. “It isn- hello? Yes, it very much is my business! You are hunting me down for my blood! How could it not be my business?”

Valax clicked her tongue, looking straight ahead. She clenched one fist, the other hand gripping her glaive. If she risked a glance at them she’d either go on a full fight -which they both knew- or she might actually be tempted to answer their question -which Raine didn’t know -. And she didn’t feel like doing that - surprisingly, she didn’t want to fight now either-.

“No, it is not. Why we will do what we will do after we get your blood does not concern you,” she replied coldly, gripping her glaive to the point her knuckles whitened slightly.

Why did she find it difficult to not tell them? They’re the enemy, it would obviously be pointless to explain and yet she found herself biting her tongue to not say anything.

The breeze traveled through and between them, making Raine shiver softly, caressing their hands up and down their arms. Some strands of hair covered Valax’s face from the wind and she sloppily, even somewhat roughly, pulled them away behind her ears. So much so that even Raine grimaced, pretty sure Valax accidentally scratched her own face.

They looked away, down at their swinging legs.

“Well, you say that. And sure, mother empress wants to conquer the world, cool- well, not cool but you know- why are you so invested in it? ‘Cause it seems like you’re doing most of the work. So… Why…Do you? Is it that you really love your mom and want to help her or something, or-”

They honestly would have stopped talking after that. And they most likely should have been looking at her. If they had, they would have noticed the way she clenched her jaw, the way her teeth grit together, how her expression hardened and how her knuckles whitened.

“Don’t you know when to stop running your mouth?!” She exclaimed loudly, her voice deep, furious and rough. Her glaive, though non-aggressive, turned towards their direction. Their eyes widened in surprise- as much anger Valax had expressed, it was never like this. They lifted their arms again, in surrender.

“Woah, woah, hey! I’m sorry! Sorry!” They rushed to apologise and both of them wondered if it even meant anything. But Raine knew they didn’t wish to pick on anyone’s problems like this, not even Valax’s.

“I mean it, alright? Sorry. I didn’t want to…touch a nerve. Really.”

Valax was about to reply but the sincerity in their look and voice made her grumble and relax her shoulders, facing away from them again.

“Whatever,” she mumbled. The silence was awkward and too loud.

Raine cleared their throat as quietly as they could.

The wind ruffled their clothes and hair again, making them look even more disheveled than before, and the same applied to Valax.

Her hair moved to flutter over her face again and she frustratingly sighed and clumsily- and roughly- pushed the strands behind her ears. Raine winced to themselves once more, certain the elf had scratched herself again.

They shivered slightly in the breeze and ran their hands up and down their arms. They glanced at her, her eyes still on the night sky. It had grown very quiet. They shivered again.

She didn’t seem cold and if she was she didn’t show it.

“Aren’t you cold?” they asked, their own hair currently being ruffled by the wind.

Valax scoffed as she glanced at them her voice calmer, despite everything.

“You day walkers are quite fragile, are you not ?”

Raine scoffed, smiling faintly.

“Nah. There’s plenty of strong fellas here. I know people that can crush skulls like it’s nothing. Orcs, for example, could do it. Easily. I’m pretty sure they are the strongest in Morella.”

Their eyes fell on Imtura, some meters below the cliff they were sitting on and they smiled.

Valex frowned confused at the name ‘Morella’ but Raine waved their hand dismissively, not really feeling like explaining much at the moment.

“I’m not going to come with you,” they clarified after a moment - not that they needed to.

Valax looked down at her glaive, humming as she gripped it.

“Yes, I assumed you wouldn’t. That’s what makes you a formidable enemy, I suppose. No one fights so ferociously even when the odds are against them, just for the sake of it. As annoying as you are, I can recognise that.”

Raine snorted, smiling at themselves.

Imtura fights against all odds, they thought. Just because it’s fun.

They didn’t say that. Different words slipped their lips before they realised it.

“So you enjoy fighting with me? You come to find me whenever you wanna let some steam off?”

They asked, surprised at their own playfulness. Valax was terrifying, their skin crawled at the sound of her name- but having her here like this, under the light of the moon, divine and radiant, the rips of light across the night sky and her– nearly awed, nearly relaxed (definitely lacking the usual hardness and scowl) made the moment almost vulnerable.

Maybe they were tired but it was almost like the lines between them blurred and swirled. Valax scoffed but it lacked the usual hostility. They could swear they saw her lips tugging slightly at the side.

“You really don’t know when to stop running your mouth, do you?”

She asked again, no hostility in her voice this time. She sounded more amused than anything.

Raine grinned, the cheeky words leaving their mouth before they could stop them.

“ I ‘ve been told it’s part of my charm.”

Valax glanced at them and scoffed- yes, again- but the sound was more akin to a chuckle. She smiled to herself ever so slightly, the expression concealed by the darkness of the night.

Raine smiled slightly as they noticed it, despite the princess’ efforts.

A princess. Like Aerin.

Raine had come to realise that royals aren’t as happy as they thought when they were a child. Yet again, can you really trust a kid to not see the world as the best possible version it could be?

They wondered if Valax was unhappy as well. They glanced at her for a moment, the wind ruffling her hair slightly her head tilted upwards and the light of the stars and meteors falling across the sky reflecting on her black eyes.

They didn’t ask.

They turned their head to the sky. The rips across the sky started to mend, to heal and gradually turned to scratches and distant blinks of light until they disappeared.

They sat a moment in silence before Valax’s deep voice shattered it, her hardness slowly seeping in her tone and words.

“You should call for your companions,” she stood up, her presence imposing. The powerful shadow magic returned on one hand, glaive at the ready in the other.

Raine sighed, gripping their weapon. They looked at the distance for a moment, cherishing the last seconds of silence and peace before the fight.

The emotions that swirled beneath their eyes mixed together and their jaw clenched, their grip on their preferred weapon tightening.

“Yes.” They replied, voice unusually serious.

“ I should .”

#bolas fanfic #blades of light and shadow valax #bolas valax #valax x mc #princess valax #valax x raine ?

13 notes · View notes

sleepsonfutons · 1 year ago

Note

'I'm real. I'm here' for the angst 👀👀👀

Oh yeah, round 2 on the angst!!

It was a large, cavernous space governed by massive pillars and a ceiling that was anything but a ceiling. The night sky sprawled overhead uninterrupted and endless. Hob was star-struck, both figuratively and then literally as a shooting star came falling from the starfield above. He was rooted to the spot, unable to move, until the star struck the polished marble beneath his feet and skittered out into a thousand little shards skipping across the stone.

Hob shivered when he realized its path had taken it straight through his own chest, but he'd not even felt a whisper of its touch. Suddenly the yawning void of space felt ominous as opposed to awe-inspiring, even as the swirling galaxies continued to shine merrily. The grand palatial space no longer felt impressive, but oppressively empty and lonely. Everything felt even colder than it had moments before. He needed to get out of here.

His breaths were starting to become shallow and fast as his chest felt like it'd been dropped into a vice as he looked around for any way out. Then his frantically scanning gaze passed over an irregular shadow, anchoring it and dragging it back. He couldn't make out what it was, but it sat at the bottom of a great winding stair that rose to connect with a platform that simply hung in the air. On it sat an imposing throne and casting his gaze beyond, Hob realized there were three great panes of stained glass. They were so dark though that it was no surprise he hadn't noticed them earlier.

He started across the space and as he got closer, the imagery in the glass revealed itself when a thundering crack of lightning backlit it and cast long shadows of the dais, stairs, and...hunched figure at their base. The tri-panel window depicted a desolate scene. To describe it in a word, Hob would say it was 'depressing'. There was a figure in repose that spanned the width of the window and ghostly faces weeping below them. Above them, a figure turned its gaze toward a burning sky. They had no face and they appeared utterly lost, devastated at the state of the shrouded body beneath them.

Tears sprung unbidden to his eyes at the emotion portrayed in stark greyscale and then Hob saw it. A single point of color at the throat of the faceless figure, a ruby pendant that would always be able to recognize. It couldn't be his Friend portrayed there though...it couldn't. But, it also could be no other, even if that realization made something inside him feel like it was breaking.

Hob had no idea how long he stood there gazing up at the scene, confounded and struck before he felt the weight of eyes on him. When he sought out whoever was staring at him, he found the sapphire blues he loved most in the world upon him. However, there was something strange about Dream's gaze. Then, he realized it was because while he was meeting Dream's eyes, the other man's gaze was cast too far to be seeing him. It was like he was seeing through him.

Dream shook his head before dropping it once more and resuming his previously hunched position. Hob hurried forward, reaching out to his Friend, wanting nothing more than to offer comfort. He dropped to his knees before Dream, his hand freezing just over where he was about to place it on Dream's knee when he registered the other man's whispered words.

"He is gone. He is gone and, at the last, I let my wretched pride resolutely reject his friendship. Would that I only had one last chance to speak with you, Hob Gadling...I would reassure you that you had not been inaccurate in your assessments. And that you were a precious existence to me."

Hob's breath caught at this confession and set his mind reeling when Dream's piercing gaze once more landed not on him, but through him.

"You are gone, Hob. Yet, I can not escape the echoes of your existence..." Dream's hand stretched out past Hob's head before dropping back to hang between his knees.

Hob pleaded, "I'm real. I'm here. I'm right here, Dream!"

Dream leaned his head back and his gaze lost all focus as he became a perfect reflection of his stained-glass self. Desolate, lonely, and utterly lost.

Angst Prompts~

#dreamling #dream x hob #let's bring on the angst #angst prompts #the sandman #the sandman fanfic #drabble #my writing #sleepsonfutons writes #seiya-starsniper

24 notes · View notes

glittertrail · 2 years ago

Note

Happy astromonday!!

For the last in the Mars asks, I have a story about the earliest picture from Mars' surface. This was taken in July 1965 by Mariner 4.

Mariner 4 was an orbiter, it didn't land on Mars, but in 1965 it sent back the first digital images from Mars. Sent over 8 hours to the NASA computers, it comprised of 240,000 numbers, bits of binary code, to make up the 40,000 patches of colour on its surface.

When the code was received back on Earth, the picture was likely to take a while to develop. But the scientists were too impatient to wait. So they printed all the numbers onto long, narrow strips of paper, stuck them to a wall in order, and coloured in each number using a paint-by-numbers method. This eventually created a piece of art you can see with today's ask, a replica of a picture taken from the surface of Mars!!

It really struck me again the love people have had for space and for Mars throughout history. This was 40,000 numbers that were coloured by hand, and how beautiful is the image!!

This week I have a question for you!! Tell me about something you've loved creating or taking part in. This can be art, writing, music, a project, or something else entirely.

I hope you've liked this little series on Mars, have a fantastic day!! 🪐

Happy astromonday guess who had to come back to the office bc she realized at home that she left her canvas bag in her chair, like a dumbass? 🤦‍♀️

I love that story so much 🥰

Things I've loved creating under the cut bc I got sentimental and it turned kind of long lol

In uni we had to make a self portrait short film talking about ourselves. I, of course, waited for the absolute last minute to film mine because I have no understanding of time management (and I was also editing a tv pilot that literally took all of the time me and my friends had back then bc that thing was worth about half of our grade) so I spent an entire weekend rolling w a suitcase through all of my favorite parts of Madrid w the help of one of my cousins and a friend, changing at various bathrooms so I could have different outfits (brought in said suitcase) so it didn't look like I filmed it all in two days, I took inspiration on one of my favorite poems (the artist creed of Aquiles Nazoa) for the monologue and in the video of Vanessa Hudgens in Lisbon for find your California for the imagery. It works both as a self portrait and a love letter to the city and the people that took that weekend to help me (either by filming me or helping with the suitcase or to make sure random passerbys didn't fuck up a take). It was Eurovision weekend and we ended filming by getting drunk at the flat of my friend watching the last few performances.

A sentimental thing but I cajoled about 15 cousins, a very shy brother, two German exchange sisters and an uncle with a 4yo into participating in a mother's day video. Decided literally two days before mother's day, i have family living currently in six countries. And absolutely no one knows how to follow instructions. But it did succeed in making all of the aunts (and my mother) happy. My grandma didn't remember the video when i asked her about it (but apparently when somebody else did when she was a little more lucid she was pretty sure it had to be the idea of one of my eldest cousins🤣) but the wife of my grandpa (who i never called my grandmother but I was closer to than my grandma) did cry bc I made a point to name her in my part of the video. I spent an entire night editing three versions (one for my dad's side of the family, one for my mother's and one in particular for my mom that was my brother, our German sisters and me).

Glitteraks and the drag race Spain reference posts. I am actually kind of shy online lol so the glitterasks were my attempt at both keeping the Sunday horrors at bay for me and the few-ish people I talked to here when i stopped being deadly afraid of talking to people and make some new friends. Mostly I am proud of being able to keep it up for a year. It was a total of about... 60 questions? If I'm not mistaken? And at it's busiest I think the list got to be 85 people. The reference posts are included there because they were very self indulgent, i can admit to that, but new episodes come on Sundays too so I spent a few Sundays nursing migraines of my own making for spending entire days staring at screens between glitteraks, episode watching and reference post making, because my mental deadline for said posts was Monday evening and I do have a job 🤣 despite what the chronically online behavior might suggest

How about you, Juno? What are some of the things you're proudest of creating or being a part of?😊

#replies #astromonday #astronomy nerd (affectionate)#junosjukebox

1 note · View note

belmottetower · 2 years ago

Text

Bel's AUgust Challenge — Masterpost

Yesterday was the last day of The Ted Lasso AU-gust Challenge (@ted-lasso-au-gust) and I wanted to share a masterpost of all the fics I wrote for this.

You can find them all in my AUgust Challenge series on AO3 as well the main AUgust Challenge collection along with all the other contributions, but below is a list of links to every one with a brief description and approximate word count.

I did 31 fills in total, because in a moment of madness I decided I was going to do a fic a day for every single prompt.

It was a choice, it was a bad one, but it’s done now. The current word count for the series is almost 76,000, but this will go up because three of the fills are multi-chapter with only the first chapter posted so far.

There’s a pretty varied range of pairings and ratings and characters focused on, hopefully there’ll be something here for everyone.

Regarding the basic tagging here — fics marked Canon Universe obviously may involve tropes like soulbonds, de-aging, time loops, elements that make them a Magical Realism AU rather than literally Canonverse. But you know what I mean. Also, the two marked Roy/Keeley + Jamie as opposed to Gen are pre-poly, where the vibe is definitely charged and would end up there down the line, but the story here isn't really about that.

Please do tell me what your favourites were - I would love to know!

#1 Tattoo/Florist: alstroemeria aurea (2k)

Roy’s an introverted florist, Jamie’s a tattoo artist looking for inspiration, and Jamie's weekly purchases have Roy growing more and more curious. Full AU, Roy/Jamie, G.

#2 Soulmates: loving the expanse between them (1.5k)

Sam’s trying to give Rebecca space, but the new telepathic bond between them throws a spanner in the works. Canon Universe, Sam/Rebecca, G.

#3 Role Reversal: lioness rampant (5.5k)

Keeley is the star footballer, Jamie is the model. Roy is still himself. Slightly pre-series, so Roy's still playing. Canon Universe AND Full AU, Keeley/Jamie + future Roy/Jamie, T.

#4 Crime & Punishment: The Pink Paper Job (1k)

Detective Kent is half-heartedly investigating the theft of artefacts "belonging" to Rupert Mannion. The thief leaves a distinct calling card when repatriating the items. Leverage vibes. Full AU, Roy & Keeley & Jamie, T.

#5 Crossover: star struck (3k)

In which Ted Lasso and Starstruck take place in the same London and new friends are made on a date night at a fancy restaurant. Canon Universe, Keeley/Roy/Jamie + Tom/Jessie, G.

#6 Historical: The 18th of November, 1914 (1k)

The year is 1914 and Jamie’s moved from Manchester to London for work. On his day off, he’s handed a poster asking if he’s a fast, fit, fan of football. Full AU AND Canon Universe, Gen, G.

#7 Science Fiction: the final frontier (2k)

A Star Trek AU - Rebecca is the Captain of the USS Richmond, Keeley's her first officer, and the rest of the crew is made up of familiar faces. Full AU, Roy/Jamie, T.

#8 Adoptive Family: funnier than step brothers (under 1k)

When Isaac’s mum marries Colin’s dad, Isaac is worried it’ll change things. Canon Universe, Colin/Isaac, T.

#9 Reboot/Fresh Start: jeff bridges (7.5k)

Jamie gets a magical do-over of his first season at Richmond. A season 1 redux with a twist. Canon Universe AND Canon Divergent AU, Gen, G.

#10 Espionage: honey trap (1k)

Keeley meets Rebecca early, and helps Rebecca get the evidence she needs to divorce Rupert. Canon Divergent AU, Keeley/Rebecca, T.

#11 Health & Medical: quae prosunt omnibus artes (3.5k)

Hospital setting. Keeley's a children's entertainer, cheering up sick kids on various wards, she meets a gruff surgeon and the junior doctor stuck on rotation with him. Full AU, Keeley & Jamie + Roy/Jamie, M.

#12 Mythology: the exchange of winnings (2.5k)

A Monty Python-esque spin on the Arthurian tale of The Green Knight. Bargains are made and kisses are exchanged. Full AU, Keeley/Roy/Jamie, M.

#13 Infinite Loop: the same, but different (2k)

Ted gets Groundhogged on his first day in London. Beard may or may not be to blame. Canon Universe, Gen, G.

#14 Where It All Went Wrong: one good reason (under 1k)

After the Bye Bye Bye rehearsal ends in disaster, Sam gets the sign to stay that he's been looking for. Canon Divergent AU, Gen, G

#15 Countryside: tho’ her precincts are confin’d (3k)

Keeley's the landlady of a country pub and her bartender Roy keeps bees in the orchard of Rebecca’s estate, where many other familiar faces also work. Full AU, Keeley & Roy + Roy/Jamie, M.

#16 Supernatural: flotsam and jetsam (1k)

A Being Human AU. A werewolf and a vampire move into a house with a resident ghost. No wonder the rent was so low. Full AU, Roy/Keeley + Jamie, M.

#17 Flatmates/Neighbours: the rookie (2k, chapter 1)

Roy avoided injury in 1.10 and is still a player in season 2. When the topic of Jamie returning Richmond arises, Ted has a condition inspired by an NHL tradition. WIP - more to come. Canon Divergent AU, Roy/Keeley + future Roy/Jamie, T.

#18 Childhood: Bradshaw’s Brew (6.5k)

Roy drinks a dodgy beer he finds under Beard’s desk. The effects are unexpected. Luckily Keeley and Jamie are great babysitters. Canon Universe, Roy/Keeley + Jamie, T.

#19 Horror Movie: final girl #13 (1k)

Horror movie tropes are no match for Jan Maas. Canon Universe, Gen, T.

#20 Roadtrip: International (1k, chapter 1)

It's the summer of 2017 and after attending an England match in Paris, Jamie needs a lift back across the Channel. Roy is happy-ish to oblige. WIP - more to come. Full AU, Roy/Jamie, E.

#21 Underwater: Inverfarigaig (under 1k)

Cryptozoology podcasters Beard and Dani are camping in Scotland to search for the Loch Ness Monster. Full AU, Gen, G.

#22 Fake Married/Dating: Suck, Bang & Blow (1k)

Keeley needs help to get rid of a creep in a bar. Jamie, her new best friend from the bathroom, is happy to oblige. Full AU, Keeley & Jamie + Roy/Jamie, T.

#23 Injured: Caledonian Road (4k)

A meet-cute in a Tube station featuring too-large suitcases, too many stairs, scraped knees and piggybacks from a hot personal trainer. Full AU, Keeley/Jamie, G.

#24 Pets: Mushroom Carbonara and Frank (1k)

Roy, owner of fat little rat dog Frank, is invited by Jamie, owner of rescue greyhound Mushroom Carbonara, to a local dog park social event. Roy's keen, Frank less so. Full AU, Roy/Jamie, G.

#25 We Used To Be: isn't it strange, how people can change (4k)

After karaoke in Liverpool Roy reflects on his casual fling with Rebecca as she watches him leave the club with Keeley. Canon Universe, Roy/Rebecca, E.

#26 Body Swap: gift, mouth (3k, chapter 1)

Jamie gives Roy a well-meaning but somewhat unorthodox birthday present. Hijinks ensue. WIP - more to come. Canon Universe, Roy/Jamie, M.

#27 Food & Beverage: cherries jubilee (4k)

Chef Roy and Man City star Jamie get to know each other better over a four course dinner in a continuation of my Grindr AU from all roads. Canon Divergent AU, Roy/Jamie, M.

#28 University/College: Gap Year (4k)

Jamie retires in 2032. With help from Keeley, Roy, and most of all his mum, he figures out what he wants to do next. Canon Universe, Gen, G.

#29 Superpowers: health and safety (1.5k)

Roy’s a superhero, Jamie’s his cleaner turned boyfriend. Roy gets called in to save the day at a really unfortunate moment. A riff on SuperBob. Full AU, Roy/Jamie, E.

#30 Post-Apocalypse: blue diamond (1k)

After the apocalypse, a rag-tag group of Richmond survivors reminisce about what they miss most. Implied main character death. Canon Universe, Roy/Jamie + past Roy/Keeley, T.

#31 No Football: Over and Out (under 1k)

Baseball coaches Ted and Beard have arrived in the UK to coach professional cricket. Ted has a lot to learn about the sport. Full AU, Gen, G.

71 notes · View notes

ofoceansandtombsanew · 3 years ago

Text

My Girlfriend’s Six Friends

tags: short fic, fem!reader, ethnically ambiguous!reader

a/n: another repost this time for porco inspired by that college humor video of the same name. honestly, imagining porco being annoyed by his gf’s friends being cockblockers is something we should all live for

I love my girlfriend. Porco thought as he laid beside you in the grass on a blanket.

It was a lovely day

The sky was a deep blue and the afternoon sun beamed down gently, accompanied by a cool breeze here and there. Birdsong echoed atop the trees and the grass was soft, perfect for resting bare feet and napping without a care in the world. Porco rested his chin on his hand and smiled lazily at you and you gave him a lazy grin back.

Honestly, you were practically perfect.

But her friends. God, her friends. Porco’s smile stiffened as he spread his focus to the moment unfolding around the two of you. As much as he would’ve liked it to be, this wasn’t a date but instead a picnic with your respective sets of friends. And your friends? They were all the bane of Porco’s existence, he thought as his hazel eyes settled on the first offender, Mikasa Ackerman.

THE POSSESSIVE ONE

No one loved you more than Porco.

Well, almost.

Porco was sure that if Mikasa had anything to say about it, his love for you would only come second to hers. He glowered at the tall, dark-haired girl, remembering the fiasco that happened last week when you were making out on the couch.

Porco was just about to unbuckle his belt as you wrapped your arms around his neck when your phone started ringing. “Ignore it.” Porco mumbled as he pressed his lips against yours again

“Porco wait,” you gasped, pressing a hand on his shoulder craning your neck to see who was calling while Porco peppered your neck with open mouth kisses. “I just wanna see who it is… Oh, it’s Mikasa.”

“Mikasa?” Porco groaned with a roll of his eyes, halting his ministrations. “Just call her back later.”

“But what if it’s something important?”

Porco rolled his eyes, “you talk with Mikasa literally everyday, it’s fine.”

“Well…” You still looked unsure, watching as your phone continued lighting up, Mikasa’s name steadily remaining. Then it fell silent and Porco looked back at you smugly.

“Now where were w-” Porco shrieked liked a protagonist of a horror film and nearly flung himself off the couch as your apartment door flew open.

Mikasa stood in the door way with a worried expression, “are you okay? I could hear your phone ringing but you didn’t pick up!”

“Haven’t you heard of knocking?!” Porco glared as you sat up in embarrassment, fixing your clothes.

“S-sorry, Mikasa, we were…” you cleared your throat, avoiding Porco’s eyes. “Busy. What is it?”

“I was supposed to pick you up so we could go clubbing with everyone remember?” Mikasa’s worry turned to exasperation as she realized what had been transpiring, or well, about to transpire.

A look of remembrance struck across your face and you knit your eyebrows apologetically, “I’m sorry, Mikasa, I totally spaced out about that!”

“Should I come too?” Porco stood up to put his phone in his pocket. Even if Mikasa interrupted what was going to be the best sex of his life, a few drinks at the club could get them back on track again later once they got home.

He could’ve tossed Mikasa out of the window when she plainly said, “it’s girl’s night.”

Porco looked at you for some sort of defense but you only smiled sheepishly, “sorry, babe but it actually is girl’s night this time. Don’t worry, it’s just me, Mikasa, Yelena, Sasha, and a few of the others, that’s all.” You looked at Mikasa and Porco felt the irritation surge through him at how the girl lit up when you did, smiling softly at you in return. “Just give me a few minutes to get ready, alright?”

“Take your time.” Mikasa’s smile remained until you were out of sight and in the bedroom you shared together. The room she shares with me. Porco wanted to remind your friend. “You can’t just hog her to yourself.” The serious look Mikasa gave him made Porco throw his hands up in surprise.

“I am not hearing this from you of all people, you crazy friendship pirate!”

“Porco, Mikasa, play nice.” You poked your head from your door with a look of exasperation, dressed in a cute black dress you wore last month for your anniversary dinner. “I’m ready.” Quickly, you pecked Porco’s lips as you grabbed your purse and keys. “I’ll be back late, okay? Mikasa’ll drop me off.”

Fucking Mikasa. Porco glared in the present and Mikasa glared right back. She thought she was so special because you were friends before you started dating.

But at least there was Jean.

THE GAY ONE

“There’s a lot of potential here.” Jean had told him one day when the two of you were out shopping for your birthday dinner.

“Excuse me.” Porco shot the brunet a look.

“Your clothes. You’d actually look better if you knew how to dress in them.” Before Porco could even say anything, Jean was already tossing a pair of jeans at him and a leather jacket. “Try these on.”

“We came here to shop for __’s birthday dinner, not a new outfit for me to where because you hate how I dress.” Porco reminded. All they needed to get right now were some napkins and still Jean had dragged him over to the clothes section of the market. “This isn’t necessary at all.”

Jean pursed his lips, the taller man giving Porco the up down. “Yeah no, I’ve seen the stuff in your closet and I’m not impressed. You’re not embarrassing my girl on her birthday because you don’t know how to coordinate. Now get in the changing room and try the clothes on.”

“No way!” He said, shoving the clothes back in Jean’s arms.

“What?” Jean smirked brazenly. “Afraid that I’m right that you don’t know how to dress yourself and will have to ask Marcel for an outfit to borrow tonight?”

….

Porco snatched the jacket and jeans back, “I’m only trying this on to shut you up.”

“If it’s any consolidation,” Jean called after him as Porco stomped over to the dressing room. “I got stuff that works for any occasion!”

Asshole. That horseface thinks he knows everything just because he’s gay or somet- Porco looked at himself in the dressing room mirror, turning around slowly to give himself a good look over. Hey, this is actually pretty nice.

“Babe, look at you!” You had said gleefully later that night with a look of amazement as you gestured to his entire outfit. “You look amazing!”

Jean wrapped an arm around your shoulder proudly, gesturing to Porco as well. “I told you I would have this man looking great, didn’t I?”

Yeah… Porco smiled to himself, appreciating the way the jeans fit him. He was even wearing the jacket too. What can Porco say, Jean really did grab something that was great for all occasions. Jean is actually kinda cool.

Just not in a gay way. Porco coughed internally, unlike your one friend and the embarrassing way Porco had met him.

THE ONE HE HAS A CRUSH ON

There you are, my soulmate. Porco smiled dreamily as he watched you laugh. You really were the most beautiful person in the room, Porco thought as he saw how your turquoise green eyes sparkled and the messy bun your chocolate brown locks you pulled into a bun and how your chiseled jaw could cut dia-

“Honey, have you met my friend Eren?”

“Hey.” Eren gave a half smile, holding his hand that wasn’t holding a beer out to shake his. “She talks a lot about you.”

Oh.

Oh no.

Porco’s face fell aghast as he looked at you and the man beside you with the turquoise green eyes and messy chocolate bun and chiseled jaw that could cut diamonds that definitely was not your own __ eyes and __ skin tone and your __ textured hair that wasn’t in a bun. Shit, they’re staring. Porco cursed. Say something, anything!

Whatever Porco said you and Eren shot each other a look before you pulled him away, “anyway, you should meet my friend Pieck.” Porco winced as he saw the look you gave him, knowing very well what that suspicious look meant.

Why can’t you have uglier friends?!?! Porco cried as he laid in bed paranoid, wondering when you would ask what you were more than likely thinking.

The question finally came in the morning.

“Porco, do you have thing for Eren?” You demanded the next morning while Porco made breakfast.

Okay, Galliard, think fast. Porco told himself as he braced himself to turn around and look you in the eye. Think Historia Reiss, Ymir Fritz, that one less popular Eldian. Porco finally turned around to look at you. “What? No, he’s just… really attractive.” When your jaw dropped in disbelief, the blond knew he fucked up. “I mean, in a slutty way! Well, not a slutty way- babe, come back I love you I just wish you’d have uglier friends!!”

Porco shuddered at the memory, taking his gaze off of Eren and literally everything that was perfect about him to look at who was probably the worst friend yet.

THE GUY FRIEND

Reiner, Porco said the man’s name like it was poison.

According to you, you and the tall light-haired blond had been ‘bffs forev-zies’ since you were 12.

And still… Porco could not stand the guy as the two of you laughed and shrieked your heads off whenever he came over to watch a movie for your “BFF Movie Night” tradition you’ve had since you were kids.

“HOLY SHIT!!” Reiner jumped as some cheesy cgi ghost appeared on the screen, latching onto your arm and nearly knocking the popcorn bowl over in his fear as you laughed.

“Come on, Rei, that was clearly cgi.” You snickered.

Babe, don’t worry, you had said.

Reiner’s just a friend, you had said.

Honestly, he’s like my brother.

And yeah, she’s right. Porco sighed as he tiredly watched you and Reiner hug goodbye once the movie ended.

Even if you were childhood friends, that didn’t change the fact you were his girlfriend, not Reiner’s. There’s different types of love, right? Sure you’re both very close friends. And Reiner was taller and more muscular and probably knew things about you Porco didn’t with your stupid inside jokes you bother cracked all the time but it wasn’t the same sort of love you gave Porco. It definitely wasn’t the same sort of love you gave Porco. But even if the guy tries, he’s never gonna have the raw physical attraction that we have.

Porco snorted smugly. Damn right.

“Oh I love you, big guy, take care.” Your voice was muffled in Reiner’s shoulder as the two of you swayed side to side. “Try not to piss yourself. Sleep in Bert’s bed or something.”

Reiner chuckled, “I wasn’t that scared.” He said warmly before he suddenly picked you up.

“Woah, Reiner!” You gasped, sounding more amused than surprised as he spun you around. “Quit it before you knock something over!” Your giggles didn’t sound commanding at all.

Porco stood up. Seriously before you knock over a lamp or something. “Okay, that’s enough.” Porco said, stepping forward and all to ready to kick Reiner out of the apartment when the two of you with your giggling and cooing showed no sound of stopping. “Guys. Guys. Okay that’s enough!!”

The spinning stopped as both you and Reiner gave Porco an odd look. “Babe?” You asked incredulously.

The awkwardness only felt amplified when he heard the distant sound of a neighbor coughing through the walls.

And now I’m still the weird one even though he was totally acting all romantic and dreamy like some asshat in a rom com who homewrecks a completely awesome relationship because he likes to put butter on his french fries! Porco had to remind himself to breathe. Those were exactly the type of movies Reiner liked watching best anyway, Porco wasn’t stupid he knew it was a sign that Reiner was up to some evil plan of seduction.

If it wasn’t Mikasa he had to watch out for, it was definitely Reiner.

THE ATTENTION HOG

And then there was Hitch, one of the more catty friends you had although she had certainly chilled out since your college days.

Porco didn’t get the deal with her, it seemed like whenever you guys met up with she was going through some sort of dramatic breakup and fight with a mutual friend.

“So… you and Boris broke up?” You said sympathetically when Hitch finally finished her retelling of something Porco knew could’ve been summarized in three sentences. Boris cheated and Hitch re-enacted the I Should’ve Cheated by Keyshia Cole music video and set off the fire alarm in their house. “Well good riddance, he wasn’t that great anyway.”

Hitch dabbed away at her tears with a crumpled tissue, “first Marlowe, not this.” Hitch sniffled bitterly. “I’ll never have what you guys have. You won’t believe what he said to me afterwards-”

“Hitch, do you have reddit?” Porco interrupted, ignoring how you pinched him underneath the table.

Hitch looked confused at the sudden change of direction, “no?”

Porco grinned, “oh then you are gonna love this.” The blond pulled out his phone as Hitch leaned forward to see what he was talking about. “There’s this subreddit called Am I the Asshole and I just think you need to get more people talking about this and on your side.”

Even if you were unamused the entire time, Porco gave himself a clap on the back. Hitch wasn’t bothering you both with anymore of her arguments. Instead, she was talking to people on reddit getting a surprising amount of upvotes every time.

Porco felt his brow unfurrowing as he looked back at you as you continued reading a book, your eyes wide enough that he was sure that whatever was going on in those pages the words had you hooked by the collar of your shirt.

I love my girlfriend. Porco thought again. Not just because she’s smart and funny and kicks my ass when I’m being an asshole. But because even when Porco was sure he was being annoying and ridiculous to her, she still considered Porco to be her friend as well as her boyfriend. And like any good friend, Porco would do anything for her…

Even putting up with her annoying as hell friends.

I mean, she puts up with mine. You always rolled your eyes whenever Porco ran off for guy’s night at the drop of a hat because Marcel invited him out or whenever he laughed at some meme Pieck sent him (and he was also sure you had a thing for his friend Yelena no matter how hard you vehemently denied it).

But at least his friends weren’t acting up right now.

“Um, Mr. Galliard.” Porco said with a tired look pointing in the direction of his brother Colt who was loudly beginning to sing We Belong Together. “Can you take my brother home? He’s drunk.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you looked at Porco with a look of annoyance. “I thought you said Colt promised that he was only gonna drink juice.”

“Babe, he said he could handle it so I just gave him a whiskey.”

“Porco!”

#look she's writing #snk #snk x reader #aot #aot x reader #porco x reader #porco galliard x reader #mikasa x reader #mikasa ackerman x reader #eren jaeger #reiner braun #jean kirstein #don't ask why he is the gay friend #i have no excuse #he just is #hitch dreyse #black writers of tumblr

377 notes · View notes

markosmate · 3 years ago

Text

lady

Pairing; Marko x Emerson!Reader

Summary; Moving to a different state with your younger brothers and mother just to live with your grandfather was hard enough, but falling in love with a vampire and then watching your brother do the same thing? Much different story.

Warnings; strong language

au:// Welp lovelies I had promised you a Marko series in February that I started writing while I was manic, then after writing a good five/six chapters I fell into a deep dark hole of depression and didn’t write anything but sad, worthless poetry about a boy I’m in love with who doesn’t love me back :) But now it’s May, a spark of inspiration and happiness has suddenly hit me and I’ve come back to this series to finally deliver it to you!! I hope y’all like it cause I literally stress cried over finishing it three different times :,)

I’d also like to point out that any kind of feedback at all is so so appreciated. Most of my inspiration comes from feeding off of people’s reactions to what I write. So if you enjoy it or have any recommendations or comments at all please please don’t be shy to send me an ask or DM or even comment to let me know :( Thank you and enjoy!!

Part 2

I wasn’t exactly mad about moving, there was nothing holding me in Phoenix that I would be particularly sad about leaving behind. The only thing that struck a nerve was that it was dumped out of nowhere on me. Suddenly Mom had divorced Dad, let him keep everything, and made plans with Grandpa for us to move into his place with him. A little prior warning would have been appreciated, but regardless when we were told it didn’t change the fact that everything we knew was changing. Sam wasn’t happy about it at all, leaving his friends, leaving Dad. Michael... well Michael didn’t really have an opinion. In my view, he was just indifferent. He didn’t really care where the hell we were as long as he had a motorcycle, a job, and some hot chicks to swoon over.

But here we were, packed into Mom’s truck and driving through a town that I’d most likely have memorized like the back of my hand in a good few days. As the three in the car argued over which station to keep on, I turned my head and leaned my forehead on the window of the car. I watched the beach as we drove along the road, and admired the waves hitting against the sand.

I was ready to drift off until we got to Grandpa’s house when a short, exited yell left Mom’s lips. “Oh!” She grinned happily as Sam landed on a station familiar to her. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! Oh, that’s from my era! Grooving on a Sunday afternoon!” She sung along with the song as Sam threw his head back and groaned in protest. I laughed at her antics, enjoying seeing my Mom acting so carefree and happy.

“Alright, keep going, keep going.” Mom and Sam agreed with each other at the same time, Mom leaning over to continue skipping through the stations. Finally, the next station was agreed on and my pounding head thanked the universe for the quiet that I hadn’t been able to achieve the entire drive here. “Hey we’re almost there!”

“Ugh,” Sam scrunched his nose up in disgust after taking a deep breath. I leaned forward to wrap my arms around his head-rest and pull my face closer to the open window. The pungent smell hit me, and I recognized it immediately, low tide, but it wasn’t bad - anything to do with the beach was calming to me regardless. “What’s that smell?”

“Ah!” Mom breathed in deeply and turned to share a knowing grin with me, “That’s the ocean air!”

I turned to look at the welcoming sign, taking in the colors and faded lettering. “Smells like someone died.” Sam muttered as Mom tutted at him softly.

“That’s likely.” I muttered to Michael, nudging his head in the direction of the back of the sign, where in big red spray-painted letters sat the phrase “Murder Capitol of the World.”

“Aw guys, I know the last year hasn’t been easy. But I do think you’re really going to enjoy living in Santa Carla.” Mom tried to remain happy about the situation, but a shared glance with Michael after we both read over the sign revealed there wasn’t much he was excited for.

The rest of the drive only increased my excitement. Hippies galore filled the streets, a large amusement park covered most of the boardwalk, and the rest was filled with small shops and food stands. We stopped for awhile so Mom could give some teenagers rummaging through garbage some money to eat and so Michael could unhinge his bike and ask around for job openings, but before I could even think to step out of the car and get a look around we were already heading into the backroads to get to Grandpa’s house.

Grandpa’s house was farther into the plains than expected, but still only a good fifteen to twenty minute drive away from town. Before Mom could ever fully park the car, I had already jumped out and was looking around the property. Michael pulled his bike up next to Mom’s car, and they all took a good few seconds to look around at all the wood carvings and chimes before turning their vehicles off. I took note of the horses grazing in one of the back fields before walking around the front of the truck and seeing a man laying on his back across the front porch steps.

Sam lead the way towards him before Mom cut in front and marched up the steps to squat beside him. “Dad?” She questioned gently. “Dad?” The three of us leaned closer to get a better look.

“Looks like he’s dead.” Michael remarked.

“Like... really dead.” I quipped in, raising an eyebrow at Mom.

“No, no. He’s just a deep sleeper.” She brushed our comments off.

“If he’s dead can we go back to Phoenix?” Sam remarked, earning a snort from me and a sharp look from Mom.

Suddenly Grandpa sat up, a cocky smirk apparent on his face. “Playing dead. And from what I hear, doing a damn good job of it.”

Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation before Mom laughed faintly. “Oh, Dad!”

That night, Mom decided that it would be good for the four of us to leave the house after a night of unpacking and explore the boardwalk when it’s at its liveliest. I could admit it looked much more enjoyable now that it was dark and a little chilly, the sweaty people that had been occupying it earlier were now less sweaty and more stoned.

Almost as soon as Mom’s car and Michael’s bike were parked, Mom sent us off on our own so she could spend some time staking out a job in one of the family-owned shops. “Do you think she’ll be able to find one?” Sam questioned as the three of us weaved through crowds, trying to find our way to the beach concert. We could certainly hear it, we were just having a bit of trouble actually getting to it.

“One what? A job?” Michael scoffed as if it was hard to believe, still bitter over the fact there was no legal jobs for him to get hired in.

I laughed, elbowing him softly in the side, knowing that this place was exactly his vibe and in time he would most likely come to love living here. Sam was the only one I was actually worried about. “She’ll probably be able to find one. What, with all these missing people, there’s bound to be tons of job openings.”

“You’re telling me. It’s like there’s hundreds of bullet-boards around every corner with dozens of people missing. This place really is the Murder Capital.” Michael remarked as the concert finally came into our line of sight.

“Don’t say that!” Sam pleaded, shoving Michael’s shoulder with his eyebrows knitted tightly.

Michael just held his hand up in surrender and with one last shrug of his shoulders he turned to me. “You checking out the shops? We’ll find you once we get bored.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I agreed, turning sharply on my heel and blindly making my way back into the crowd. The concert was loud, sweaty, and crowded, and it wasn’t even my style of music - the last thing I wanted to do was spend my first night there. I figured it would be much more productive if I were to check out all the shops and stands running up and down the entire area, maybe find some new pieces of jewelry, or even a possible summer job opportunity.

Many places caught my eye, and I made a mental note to check them out the next time I had free money to spend, as it wouldn’t be wise for me to make an impulse-buy when I’m so close to being completely broke. Instead a small stand in the middle of the walkway drew me to it. A piercing stand. One person working on someone already sitting on the chair. There was a large wall selection of different studs, and many different kinds of disinfectants lined along the counter.

I walked closer to the wall, admiring all the different designs they had. I’d absolutely love to get a helix or orbital piercing, but I knew it wasn’t the wisest to spend money doing something like that at a small stand on a boardwalk in Santa Carla of all places. I was suddenly broken out of my thoughts when a voice spoke up directly behind me.

“It’s a scam, you know.” I jumped, hand flying to my chest, and whipping around to look at the owner. A teenage boy, my age, maybe a little older, with long curly blond hair and a grin that could have probably wooed me into his bed by the end of the night had he not literally just scared the shit out of me.

I laughed breathlessly, shaking my head. “What is?”

“The piercings. If you need one done, I could do it for you. But they use the guns instead of a needle which will definitely infect if you’re planning on doing a cartilage one.” He explained with a tilt of his head as he turned and began making his way towards the restaurants. I took that as an invite to follow, jogging to catch up and walking next to him.

“You know a lot about piercings?” I tried to make small talk, not wanting him to get away just yet.

He nodded with a confident smirk. “I did my own, and my friends. Someone had to learn.” I laughed a little at his mock-annoyed tone and shoved my hands into my pockets to appear to be doing something. He suddenly stopped and turned to me, holding out his hand. “Marko, by the way.”

“Ivory.” I accepted his hand and we both shook, hard and firm.

“You’re new.” He nodded as if finally understanding something that had been going on inside his own head. “I would’ve noticed you before if you’d been here all along.”

We dropped each other’s hand and I gave him a quizzical look. “What do you mean by that?”

He barked out a laugh and shook his head. “Nothing rude, you’re just too gorgeous to go unnoticed around here.” Before I could reply, another voice cut in from a few yards away.

“Marko! Marko, man, we’re supposed to meet David in ten!” I looked over to see another punk-looking dude calling out to Marko with his hands cupped around his mouth.

I laughed and look back towards the curly blond. “See you around?”

He nodded in confirmation, sending me one last crooked smile before turning to jog over to his other friend. I turned as well, making my way back into the crowd and away from the middle lane stands. I didn’t make it very far before the body of my youngest brother crashed into my side. I glanced down at him in bewilderment as we used each other to steady ourselves.

“Sam? Aren’t you supposed to be with Michael?” I laughed as he looked as though he’d just had the weirdest conversation of his life.

“Well, I was. Then he saw some girl at the concert and wandered after her so I went to check out the comic store.” He explained, shrugging before letting his eyes wander around once more in search of Michael. I rolled my eyes, of course Michael left Sam behind to go chase after some girl. It didn’t take long to find him, he was only a little further down the stretch of restaurants. He was more towards the end, walking out of the crowd near where the last building - a bar - sat in place.

We walked up behind him, and as soon as I was at his side I followed his eyes to a girl who was walking behind a small child, hand on his shoulder, and steering him in a certain direction. She was pretty - with big, curly hair and a beautiful smile that curled her lips up as her eyes grazed over all the lights of the carousel one last time for the night. I followed her line of sight, trying to place why Michael was following her instead of just walking up and introducing himself, but I immediately realized what the problem was.

She hoisted herself up onto the back of a motorcycle, accepting the help of the blond driver. He had a spiked mullet, dressed in all black, and when he realized Michael was staring at his girl, a cocky kind of smirk crossed his face. His friends parked next him all revved their engines to a start, and I tore my eyes from the platinum blond to see the others. I didn’t manage to catch a good look at two of them, because my eyes immediately looked onto those of the punk from earlier who’d started a conversation with me over pierced ears.

He was already looking at me, and when he realized my attention immediately locked onto him, a predatory look filled the black circles of his eyes and his lips formed into a boyish smirk directed exactly at me. He lifted his hand in a short wave, laughing along with the friend who called him away from me earlier as he shoved Marko’s shoulder in a teasing way. I lifted my hand in a small acknowledging wave back, but was knocked out of my small trance by Sam, who began teasing Michael.

“Come on, she stiffed ya!” Sam laughed harmlessly, gently punching Michael’s shoulder and turning to probably go and find Mom. I broke my gaze away from Marko immediately, turning to follow after Sam and not bothering to look back at all as I heard the bikes pull out and speed off down the road.

“Too bad she left with Mr. Mullet, she was pretty.” I tried to break the tension with Michael, I really didn’t want him to be upset over the lose of the girl, he still had all of Santa Carla’s teenage population of girls to meet.

He cracked a smile and nudged his shoulder into mine. “She really was.”

Once we made it home for the night, I separated from both my brothers and made my way into my own room. It was the smallest of all of ours, but that’s the main reason why I had chose it. It was cozy, and cute. I liked the way it came out once I had finished decorating it.

I couldn’t help but let my mind wander to those boys on the motorcycles from earlier that night. Marko seemed nice enough, even if I didn’t know whether or not I was brave enough to try to pursue a friendship with his more than intimidating friends. Just as I came to the conclusion that I should just get over myself and approach them, a sharp sting of anxiety wedged itself into my gut and nauseous filled my stomach and rose up in my throat. No. I didn’t need to become friends with those boys, there was something off, something I didn’t need to meddle in.

If I saw them again, I’d avoid eye contact and conversation completely. I was never able to understand my anxiety, but I always listened to it when it struck me.

258 notes · View notes

interact-if · 3 years ago

Photo

Day 2 of Pride Month interviews! You know them, you love them…. give it up for Ames!

Ames, author of Attollo and Metamorphosis

Pride Month Featured Authors

“…and it was a singular, terrible thought, which burrowed itself into your mind like an engorged maggot. This was not a man nor a monster. This was a concept, an ideology, a terrible myth, which had personified itself to stand before you now.You were, to put it simply, screwed.”

After several years of radio silence, you receive a message from your younger sibling that carries a strange sense of urgency to it. Either out of familial concern or boredom, you embark on a journey from your residence to your sibling’s apartment in New Hampshire to see what’s going on and, hopefully, be home before the weekend.

Too bad it’s never so simple.

Demo: Attollo, Metamorphosis (TBA)

Tags: cybernoir, thriller

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: Tell us a little bit about your project(s)!

Attollo is a cyber-noir horror set in a walled city off the coast of the Atlantic that’s been a victim of a nuclear disaster. After several years of radio silence, you receive a message from your younger sibling that carries a strange sense of urgency to it. Either out of familial concern or boredom, you embark on a journey from your residence to your sibling’s apartment in New Hampshire to see what’s going on and, hopefully, be home before the weekend. Too bad it’s never so simple. Attollo is a 17+ game that deals with heavy topics and a lot of moral questioning; from cults to corrupt government, it has no shortage of monsters in the dark—both metaphorical and literal.

Metamorphosis is a crime/horror story based in the world of crime scene cleanup, where there are three simple steps: Get the call, clean the scene, and don’t ask too many questions. These are the rules that you live by under the employment of Noctua’s Crime Scene Services, and you credit them for keeping you alive.

However, after a routine house call brings forth nightmares of memories that are not your own, you find yourself pulled deeper into Noctua—a city of both monster and man—in a bid to find out the truth behind the murder of Deirdre Callow, and better yet, how her memories came to be yours. Your job mandates that you don’t dig too deep—but could this finally be the exception?

Metamorphosis is 18+ and will have explicit content; follow the last moments of a stranger to find out not only who took her life, but how this connects to the underbelly that Noctua works so hard to hide.

Q2: Why interactive fiction? What drew you to the medium?

Lmaoo, oh man. I think it really all began last summer when I first found examples of interactive fiction. I don’t even remember how I came across it, it might’ve been that I saw it mentioned in a post or I saw it as a tag on Itch.io, but at some point, last summer I began to investigate it more. I think what really drew me in was the ability for the player to control the narrative; it was like playing an old RPG, but modernized, and the fact that I could see a story unfold that was influenced by my decisions was so fascinating to me. Not to mention that IF allows so much more character depth than regular novels, in my opinion.

I’m 99% sure my first exposure to interactive fiction was through the game Crème de la Crème (a fantastic game, by the way) and I just enjoyed it so much that I went haywire for the genre. Then Temple of the Endless Night came out (another fantastic game that I’m looking forward to!), and that was really the turning point for inspiring me to give it a go. Now, almost a year later, here I am working on my own two games!

Q3: Are your characters influenced by your identity? How?

My bisexuality doesn’t have much of a major influence on the game, but I do think it contributed to the way that I view and write relationships. I figured out my sexuality around high school (I kissed a girl in high school and found out I liked it just as much as when I kissed a boy) and since then I’ve been very involved in the LGBTQ+ community of both my hometown and uni town.

I think this involvement, like being able to hear about other people’s experiences and share my own, has made me feel a lot more comfortable writing some of the characters in the game. Although Attollo and Metamorphosis both don’t focus heavily on relationships (both have murder in them, which I feel is a bit more pressing), I do keep the option for any RO’s to be romanced by anyone, regardless of gender or preference, because that’s simply what I’ve become so attuned to. In terms of side characters relationships as well, I think my involvement and my own experiences have allowed me to write far more diverse relationships than I might have, and I think that this has also allowed a more fulfilling experience for players when reading through.

I also have incorporated some struggles that I’ve faced before because of my identity into the games. For example, I and a few others have faced issues with religion due to who we are, and I incorporate this into both games. Dreamwalker, Pariah, and Sysba from Attollo all have shadows of this experience in their character origins, and Ilali and Ariston from Metamorphosis has a major point involving identity and beliefs. Both games also have undertows of ostracization and division between groups, which is also something I’ve experienced in the past. Being able to grapple these moments and control them via a narrative has been eye opening for both myself and others involved, and I’m hoping it can be a learning experience for the readers as well.

Q4: What would you like to see more of in LGBT+ fiction?

I think, now, the amount of progress in LGBTQ+ fiction is expanding at a wonderful rate. There are so many interactive fictions with options to select sexuality, select gender, select beliefs, etc. However, despite this expansion, there’s still a good deal of backlash against some aspects of LGBTQ+ fiction.

For example, as a bisexual woman who has dated men, I know there are some individuals who may not consider me a part of the LGBTQ+ because of this aspect. Not only is this incredibly disheartening, but it’s a viewpoint that I think should be educated against, and fiction is a fantastic pathway to do this. Another example I can think of is a friend of mine who identifies as asexual but is sex-neutral rather than sex-repulsed. Most people can’t believe her when she says this, and she often faces backlash for this declaration as well. This is another thing that I think that, with exposure through a medium such as fiction, can be worked on.

What I’m trying to say here is that I think LGBTQ+ fiction can be a brilliantly educational platform—if used right. Although it already teaches so much with what it has, I think having that representation of different subgroups of sexuality, of their experiences and beliefs, so people can become aware and knowledgeable of these options, is something I’d like to see more of.

Q5: What or who are some of your biggest inspirations?

Oh man, I struggled to list off inspirations because I know I have some, but as soon as someone asks me who they are my brain just goes ‘brrrrrr’ LMAO.

In terms of the games that I write and the worlds that I build, I think David Lynch and Robert Chambers are probably the two that I somehow incorporate. Attollo and Metamorphosis both have a lot of surrealist horror, which are what these two really specialized in. Shirley Jackson is also another person who inspired me a lot when it came to the writing and creation of Attollo, especially the intrapersonal relationships between the characters.

In terms of life, this is something else I really struggle to answer. I don’t really have celebrity inspirations or anything like that, but I do get inspired by my close friends and sister a lot. Seeing them go through the struggles that they face and absolutely thrive really drives me to push through my own struggles. They’re the strongest, most brilliant group of people that I know, and I consider myself incredibly fortunate that I can be a part of their lives. Not only that, but we also all collectively encourage each other to push further and to chase our dreams (as cheesy as that is LMAO) and that’s something that I think is another stroke of good fortune. I struck gold when I met them, and they’re some of the biggest inspirations in my life.

Q6: What’s a super vague spoiler for your current project?

For Attollo, I’d say ‘Home is where the heart is.’ For Metamorphosis, to quote John Berendt, ‘Always stick around for one more drink.’

Q7: Lastly, what advice would you give to your readers?

What advice would I give to you all? Oh my, I’m not exactly a wise woman here, but I’ll do my best to give you something lmaooo. I think what I really want you to walk away with, from both my stories and this interview, is that if you’re passionate about something, then share it with the world. Don’t let anyone deter your passion.

I remember listening to this painter once who commented to his friend how he ‘really liked painting’, and his friend’s first response was ‘but are you good at it?’. He then compared this to the scenario of walking; would you say, ‘but are you good at it?’ to someone who said, ‘I really like walking’? No, because it simply wouldn’t make sense, and it doesn’t make sense to say that to anyone who’s doing something out of passion.

To put it simply—if you love something, then don’t let anyone take that passion from you. I began writing these stories because I’m passionate about Attollo and Metamorphosis; I love each character, each bit of lore, and I share it with you because I want you all to enjoy it as well. Am I the best writer? God, no. Does everyone like what I write? Definitely not. But will I let this stop me from writing, from enjoying what I’m doing? Never, and I want you to do the same.

Explore your passions, embrace your passions, and let what makes you happy continue to do so

#if: events #Pride Month 2021 #pride month #queer authors #queer fiction #queer creators #interactive fiction

141 notes · View notes

d-criss-news · 3 years ago

Text

20 Questions With Darren Criss: How Acting Has Helped Him Make New Music

While Darren Criss has graced our TV screens with a range of characters, from high schooler Blaine Anderson on Glee to serial killer Andrew Cunanan on The Assassination of Gianni Versace, he was last spotted just being himself, on our For You Page on TikTok. “I’m walking to rehearsal with a guitar on my back with a Trader Joe’s bag ... I did not bring an umbrella because I forgot that it was raining. I’m rocking that NYC musician life,” the Glee alum explained in the hilarious clip posted three days ago.

While Criss’ acting work has earned him acclaim and stardom, he leaned into making music during the pandemic. On Aug. 20, he dropped a new EP, Masquerade, featuring five new tracks that Criss says were inspired by the different characters Criss has embraced throughout his career. After Criss wrote songs for his musical comedy web series Royalties and Apple TV+’s animated sitcom Central Park before the pandemic struck the United States, he then used those experiences as a precursor to his new EP. As Criss continues to promote his new music, he answered 20 of Billboard's questions – giving us a peek into how his new EP came together, and how growing up in San Fransisco shaped him as an actor, singer and all-around artist.

1. What inspired your latest project, Masquerade?

Although I would have preferred that it come at a far less grim cost, I finally had the time. Before the pandemic, I had written 10 new songs for my show Royalties -- along with an original song for Disney and another for Apple’s Central Park. These were all assignments in which I was writing for a certain scenario and character. Go figure. It was the most music I had ever written in a calendar year. This really emboldened me to rethink how I made my own music— to start putting a focus on “character creation” in my songs, rather than personal reflection. The latter was not proving to be as productive. The alchemy of having this time and having set a new intention with my own songwriting and producing made me put on a few of my favorite masques and throw myself a Masquerade.

2. How do you think your background as an actor complements your music?

They are one and the same to me. I treat acting roles like musical pieces— dialogue is like scoring a melody; there’s pace, dynamics, cadence, tone. Physical characterization is like producing -- zeroing in on the bass line, deciding on the kick pattern. Vocal characterization is like choosing the right sonic experience, choosing the most effective snare sound, and mixing the high end or low end. It goes without saying that it works in the complete opposite direction. Making each song is taking on a different role literally and employing the use of different masques to maximize the effectiveness of the particular story being told.

3. On Instagram you wrote that “Masquerade is a small collection of the variety of musical masques that have always inspired me.” Which track do you identify with most in your real life?

Everybody absorbs songs differently. Some key into the lyrics, some into the melody, some the production, some into vocal performance. When I listen to songs, I consider all of their value on totally different scales. So it’s hard to say if there’s any track I “identify” with more than any others, since I -- by nature -- identify with all of them. I think I just identify with certain aspects more than others. If it helps for a more interesting answer, I will say I enjoy the slightly more classical, playful -- dare I say -- more Broadway-leaning wordplay of “Walk of Shame,” but that’s just talking about lyricism. I enjoy the attitude of “F*kn Around,” the batsh--t musicality of “I Can’t Dance,” the relentless grooves of “Let’s” and “For A Night Like This.” All have different ingredients I really enjoy having an excuse to dive into.

4. What’s the first piece of music that you bought for yourself, and what was the medium?

Beatles audio cassettes: “Help” and “Hard Day’s Night.” I just listened on repeat on a tape-playing Walkman until my brother and I got a stereo for our room with a CD player in it, which was when I just bought the same two albums again, but this time as compact discs.

5. What was the first concert you saw?It’s hard to say, because my parents took us to a lot of classical concerts when we were small. But I guess this question usually refers to what was the first concert you went to on your own volition, and that my friend, was definitely Warped Tour ’01. My brother and I went on our own— two teenagers going to their first music festival, in the golden age of that particular genre and culture. It was f--king incredible.

6. What did your parents do for a living when you were a kid?

My dad was in private banking and advised really, really wealthy people on how to handle their money. My mom was, by choice, a stay-at-home mom, but in reality, she was my dad’s consigliere. They discussed absolutely everything together. They were a real team, and I saw that every single day in the house. They both had a background in finance (That’s how they met in the first place.) and were incredibly skilled at all the hardcore adulting things that I absolutely suck at. They were total finance wizards together. So of course, instead of becoming an accountant, I picked up playing the guitar and ran as far I could with it. Luckily, they were all about it.

7. What was your favorite homecooked meal growing up?

My dad was an incredible chef. For special occasions, I’d request his crab cakes. They were unreal. I’ve never had a crab cake anywhere in the world that was good as my dad’s.

8. Who made you realize you could be an artist full-time?

I don’t know if I’ve actually realized that yet.

9. What’s at the top of your professional bucket list?

The specifics change every day, but the core idea at the top is to continue being consistently inconsistent with my choices, and to keep getting audiences to constantly reconsider their consideration of me. But I mean, sure, what performer doesn’t want to play Coachella? What songwriter doesn’t want to have Adele sing one of their songs? What actor doesn’t want to be in a Wes Anderson film?

10. How did your hometown/city shape who you are?

San Francisco. I mean, come on. I was really lucky. The older I get, the more grateful I am for just being born and raised there. It’s an incredibly diverse, culturally rich, colorful, inclusive, vibrant city. By the time I was born, it had served as a beacon for millions of creative, out-of-the-box thinkers to gather and thrive. I grew up around that. The combination of that with having parents, who were unbelievably supportive of the arts themselves, laid an incredibly fortunate foundation to consider the life of an artist as a legitimately viable option. It’s a foundation that I am supremely aware is not the case for millions of young artists around the world. I was absurdly lucky.

11. What’s the last song you listened to?

I mean probably one of mine, but not by choice. I know, lame. But I’m promoting a new EP, what’d you expect? But if you wanna know what I’ve been listening to, as far as new s--t is concerned: a lot of Lizzy McAlpine, Remi Wolf, and Charlie Burg.

12. If you could see any artist in concert, dead or alive, who would it be?

The Beatles is an obvious "yeah, duh." Sammy Davis, Mel Tormé, or of course, Nat King Cole. I would’ve loved to see Howard Ashman give a lecture on his creative process and his body of work.

13. What’s the wildest thing you’ve seen happen in the crowd of one of your sets?

I feel like just having a crowd at all, at any one of my sets, is pretty wild enough.

14. What’s your karaoke go-to?

The real answer to this I’ll write into a book one day, because I have a lot to say about karaoke etiquette. I have two options here: I can either name a song that I like to sing for me, for fun, or I can name a song that really gets the group going. The answer depends on what kind of karaoke night we’re dealing with here. So I will say, after I’ve selected a ton of songs that services a decent enough party vibe for everyone else, then I would do one for me, and that would be the Beatles’ “Oh! Darling.”

15. What’s one thing your most devoted fans don’t know about you?

What I have up my sleeve.

16. What TV show did you binge-watch over the past year?

Dave is a stroke of genius. There are episodes that I believe are bona fide masterpieces. Also, My Brilliant Friend is a masterclass in cinematic television.

17. What movie, or song, always makes you cry?

It’s A Wonderful Life.

18. What’s one piece of advice you would give to your younger self?

Get used to sharing everything about yourself and your life now, or more astutely, to the idea that you don’t necessarily get to control how your life is shared. I know it’s not really your thing, but you’re gonna have to get used to it, so start building up those calluses now. And don’t worry, all the stuff you love now will be cool again in your mid-thirties, so keep some of those clothes because you’ll be a full-blown fashion icon if you just keep wearing exactly what you’re wearing. Oh nd also, put money into Apple and Facebook.

19. What new hobby did you take on in the last year?

I’ve always been a linguaphile. My idea of leisure time is getting to study or review other languages. This past year, I took the time to finally dive into learning how to read, write, and speak Japanese. Other than making music, it was one of the biggest components of my 2020-2021.

20. What do you hope to accomplish or experience by the end of 2021?

I hope I get to play live shows again.

#darren criss #billboard #masquerade ep #press #sept 2021

64 notes · View notes

sierraraeck · 4 years ago

Text

Struck by Lightning

Derek x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: After breaking up with your boyfriend, you go out for a girls night. Unfortunately, he follows you to the club to try and win you back. To show him just how over him you are, you kiss the first stranger you see walking through the door. Luckily for you, that man is a sculpted god of chocolate thunder.

Category: Spicy fluff

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol. Age gap between adults (maybe like 10ish years) but I never actually mention it lol. Some cussing.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: This was inspired by the song “Guys My Age” by Hey Violet. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. This is also for @fortheloveofcriminalminds 600 follower celebration! The prompt “in the likely event that this all goes pear shaped, just remember I told you so” is in bold!

“I finally did it,” you told your friend over the phone.

“You did!” she squealed. “You dumped Brody? I’m so proud of you!”

You laughed, “Thanks, Jess. God, I was just so tired of his bullshit. He never wanted to do anything but hang around his house with his friends, ya know?”

“Yeah, I do know,” Jess responded very dramatically. “I’m so glad you’re done with him! This calls for celebration!”

“Oh god,” you mumbled, knowing exactly what that entailed. Jess was always a bit excited when it came to celebrating. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Yes! Girls night!” The high frequency of her voice nearly blew your eardrums out. “There’s this new bar and club downtown that I’ve been dying to check out. I’m going to call the girls!”

Without getting another word in, she hung up, leaving you no choice but to start getting ready for what you were sure would be a wild night.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

Wild would not be the word you’d use to describe the night so far. Irritating would be more accurate.

Not even ten minutes after you’d arrived, Brody and his asshat friends showed up too. Of course, they couldn’t just keep their distance like any normal person who’d just been dumped would, maybe a normal person would even leave to go to a different club, but no. The first thing Brody did was approach you, sliding into the barstool next to you.

You could smell the alcohol and weed on his breath when he said, “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Go away, Brody,” you deadpanned. You’d finally gotten away from your immature, never-wants-to-do-anything boyfriend who never put you first, who now all the sudden that you’re gone, decides to start making an effort. And of course it had to be on the night that you were celebrating the single life again that he just had to show up.

“Don’t be like that, babe,” he said, reaching out to touch you.

You scooted out of reach of him, “Don’t touch me.”

“Come on, baby, we used to have a lot of fun. Let me remind you of that,” he said, leaning in to kiss you.

You put your hand in the way and pushed his face away from yours. “I would literally rather kiss anyone other than you,” you spat.

“You don’t mean that,” Brody tried to schmooze.

“Yes I do.”

“Oh really? Prove it,” he challenged.

“Come on, Y/N, let’s just go. He’s not worth it,” Jess told you, your two other friends at her sides.

But you were too competitive for that. Plus, this was your girls night out, at the club that Jess had been dying to see for ages now, and you weren’t going to let your stupid ex ruin that. So you accepted by saying, “I will. Next person who walks through that door.”

Brody shrugged, a smug smile on his face. “Fine. Let’s see it.”

You eyed the door as Jess leaned in and whispered, “In the likely event that this all goes pear shaped, just remember I told you so.”

You rolled your eyes, still facing the door. Then you saw movement behind the glass, the door swinging open to reveal the person you’d fated yourself to kiss.

And holy shit. You don’t think you’ve ever been so lucky in your life. The honest to god hottest man you’d ever seen walked through the door. He was tall, broad shoulders accompanying his strong build, and when you saw him turn and smile at the rest of what you assumed were his friends walking through the door, you thought you might pass out. He had to have been sculpted by Zeus himself.

You were staring in shock, as if you’d been struck by lightning, almost forgetting you had a small wager on the line. Jess gave you a small nudge, springing your feet into action.

You couldn’t believe you were about to do this. But, you strutted up to the man still partially in the doorway with confidence like you’d never had before, the group of people facing your way tracking your movements. The man himself had barely enough time to turn around and register you walking toward him before you reached up behind his neck and pulled him just slightly down to you. You smashed your lips to his with a bit more force than you intended, and could feel the shock coming from everyone around you.

They weren’t the only ones to be surprised, though. In only a matter of seconds, without pulling back to ask any questions, he started kissing you back. It caught you a little off guard, to be honest, thinking you were just going to kiss him and awkwardly walk away. But he kissed you back. Like really kissed you back. His lips were soft and smooth, and before you could fully register it, your tongues were exploring each other’s mouths, pushing and pulling in a way you’d never felt before. One of his hands rested on your jaw and the other snaked around your back, spurring on your confidence enough to place your other hand on his very firm, and very muscular chest.

You weren’t sure how long the kiss lasted, but you felt like you had to pull back when one of his friends cleared their throat. You looked into his dark, cocoa eyes now that you could really admire his face close up, and he was looking at you with a mix of confusion and wonder.

You bit your lip and turned to quickly glance at the brunette who’d cleared her throat. She was pressing her lips together to suppress a smile, but wasn’t failing dreadfully at it.

You turned your attention back to the man in front of you, still looking at you in awe. Running on pure adrenaline and confidence, you slowly looked him up and down, then let out a satisfied sigh. “Not bad,” you muttered to yourself, barely loud enough for him to hear it. You ran both your hands down his chest and flirtatiously continued, “Not bad at all.”

You easily slid out of his grasp and winked over your shoulder as you strutted away.

You heard the woman who’d cleared her throat say, “I know you’re Derek Morgan, and I know you’re a catch, but has that ever happened to you?”

You peered over your shoulder and saw him staring at you. Derek, you now knew his name to be, shook his head just slightly and mumbled, “Never.”

You quickly turned away, not wanting any of them to see your grin as you practically bounced back to your seat at the bar. Brody was nowhere to be found.

Jess was slack jawed, eyebrows almost lost in her hairline. You teased, “What was that you were saying about things going wrong? Something about telling me so or..?”

Jess pulled herself together and feigned annoyance, “Oh shut up. You know you got hella lucky.”

“Oh,” you nodded, “I know.”

“Seriously, Y/N, what the hell was that?”

You shook your head, feeling as in awe as the man you’d kissed only moments ago had looked. “I have no idea.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You eyed each other for the next hour or so, neither of you being too inconspicuous about. You’d been on the dance floor while him and his group were at a bar table. He finally approached you when you’d taken a break to get another drink.

He walked up to you and leaned against the side of the bar you’d just order from. He hadn’t said anything yet, so, without looking at him, you filled the airspace. “You know it’s considered rude.”

“Excuse me?” he questioned. It was the first time you’d really heard his voice, and it was a deep velvety sound you wanted to remember.

“It’s considered rude to stare,” you started, turning to face him, “Especially if you’re not going to buy the next drink.”

He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, “Is that so?”

You simply nodded as the bartender brought you your drink. He had already fished out a twenty, holding it up between two of his fingers. He never took his eyes off you as the bartender took the cash and you sipped at the liquid in your glass.

“That’s a little better,” you teased.

You stood there leaning against the bar shamelessly looking each other over for another moment before he spoke up again, “I’m Derek Morgan.”

“I know,” you stated, flashing him a smile. He looked at you expectantly, but you weren’t about to give anything up.

He sighed a little, but gave you a small smile when he asked, “Well, if you won’t tell me your name, would you at least like to dance with me?”

You opened your mouth in fake surprise, “Ooh, so you’re a trade off kinda guy.”

He quickly backtracked, “No, that’s not-”

You laughed, cutting him off. “It’s okay, I like a little trade off. How about I dance with you, and if I’m any good, you put your number in my phone. If I’m not, I’ll tell you my name.”

He smirked, “Deal.”

Derek offered his hand and you gave him a small smirk as you took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

You both started rhythmically moving to the deafening beat, sharing glances and mimicking movements. The two of you owned the dance floor, people from all across the bar looking your way, but neither of you bothered to notice. You were way too caught up in each other, slowing moving closer and closer as you danced.

Being around him was electric, and each time your skin touched his it sent shock waves through your body, as if the man himself was made from lightning. You were becoming more and more convinced that he was handcrafted by the gods themselves.

You couldn’t remember how long you’d been on the dance floor, but when Derek dragged you off, it seemed like you could have wasted endless time in your own world out there. He was a great dancer, and you loved that he was more than willing to dance with you. Not enough men were interested in dancing like he seemed to be.

He pulled you off to the side in a low traffic, dark hallway. His whole figure seemed to glow despite the dim lighting, and the only real sound was your labored breathing above the muffled bass.

Derek’s eyes raked from your eyes down to your lips, so it was no surprise when his actions followed his gaze. His lips were on yours, and your back was in contact with the wall in a flash. He kissed you with more passion and vigour than the first time, completely dominating the kiss. You didn’t mind, wrapping your arms around his neck to get as close to him as you possibly could and then some. Your heart was racing as you tried to cling to the feeling, ignoring your lung’s cry for air.

Derek was the one who pulled away, but only to trail kisses down your neck, giving you enough time to catch your breath. “Hey, hey,” you whispered. He looked up at you with curious eyes, “Does this mean I won our little trade off?”

A hearty chuckle escaped his chest making your knees weak and he beamed at you as he answered, “I guess it does.”

You grabbed a wad of his shirt and pulled his lips to yours again, then released it to take his hand. You led him from the hallway and back to the bar where you’d left your phone, handing it to him. After he’d typed in his number, one of his friends from earlier, the same brunette, approached the two of you. Derek gave her a defeated look and she nodded her head. He sighed, an entire conversation you couldn’t follow happening in front of you. She shrugged and walked away.

When Derek’s attention was back on you, he said, “It looks like I have to go. But is there really nothing I can do to convince you to give me your name?”

You shook your head with a cheeky smile, “I guess you’ll just have to wait for a phone call.”

“You know,” he started with a joking tone, “I work for the FBI and could probably get your name if I wanted to.”

You laughed, “Is that where you’re off to?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” he answered with dry humor.

“Interesting.” He gave you a look but you shrugged. “Makes sense, though, I’d pegged you as more of a SWAT guy.” He laughed and you couldn’t help but join him.

“Morgan, let’s go!” a blonde this time yelled to him.

He rolled his eyes, completely ignoring her and said, “I hope I hear from you soon.”

“Hang in there, Agent Derek Morgan,” you teased.

He flashed you that award-winning smile before turning to leave. You watched him all the way out the door, and once he got there, turned back to look at you. He smiled to himself again and left, rubbing the back of his neck as he did so.

Something about the energy in the room changed when he was gone, like all the electricity had followed him out. You were sure, then, that he wasn’t just created by Zeus, but had to have been Zeus himself. And you couldn’t wait to be struck by the lightning of his presence again.

Taglist

@90spumkin

#criminal minds fanfic #derek morgan fanfiction #derek x reader #morgan x reader #derek morgan fluff #derek morgan #morgan #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #cm

155 notes · View notes

whoacanada · 4 years ago

Text

‘Wishful Thinking‘

Summary: Every NHL champion gets a single brush with ice magic. When Jack takes his first cup with the Falconers, he accidentally undoes the wish that brought him back from the brink of death in 2009, and Bitty becomes hell-bent on lifting the cup himself for a chance to set things right.

A/N: Finally posting some concepts I’ve played around with that aren’t 100% complete massive fics, but still pretty solid, just little things that might be enjoyed. Yet another cup-wish-gone-wrong-au with monkey-paw components. Also inspired by discord convos about canon!Jack meeting an older, veteran NHL!Bitty and having a lot of feelings. Also mentor/father-in-law!Bob trying to help Bitty navigate the NHL. There’s more to this floating around but this is the meat of it

____________

Bob can sense when it happens. A shift of something monumental that he’s only felt on a handful of occasions his entire life. A quick glance across the ice finds a number of the celebrating Falconers looking around curiously, unsure of the sensation; for so many, it’s their first brush with ice magic. A pleasant novelty. The vets, though, they look to each other.

Bob turns and doesn’t have to look far to find his son, one hand clasped around the cup, the other around Eric Bittle’s waist, smiling from ear to ear. Something about the moment is wrong, but Bob can’t quite determine why as he’s overcome with a wave of nausea. The stadium lights are too bright and he blinks hard, face scrunching, trying to force whatever wrongness he’s feeling out of himself.

Someone’s made a wish.

The moment passes. Bob’s vision clears. There, veiled in a shower of blue and gold confetti, is Eric; alone at center ice, face twisted in confusion as he looks around for the man who only moments earlier had been in his arms.

“You take the cup, you get one real wish,” the decades old, bourbon-lacquered voice of his first coach reminds him. “But only the one. Can be something small, like an empty cab in the rain, or it can be something big. World changing, even. The one thing, the most important thing — ”

“No,” Bob breathes. “Please, no.”

“— You never use your wish on another player.”

____________

They don’t know exactly what Jack wished for, but the next time Bitty’s blades touch the ice, it’s as if he’s stepped into the body of a new man. No more slurs. No more targeted chirps. He’s just one of the boys.

He plays. He wins. Then, the offers start to come.

NHL teams looking for fast wingers, team players, leadership material; not one of them mentions diversity, or Eric’s status as the first out NCAA hockey captain. No one cares. No one remembers Jack, and no one cares about Eric.

The best and worst case scenarios rolled into one. If this is the reality Jack unknowingly traded his existence for, Bitty has no choice but to walk through the door his partner opened.

Bitty swallows, trying to force the words out on one of his now nightly calls with the man who would have been his father-in-law in another world, if the shared connection between them hadn’t been interred in a Montréal cemetery almost a decade prior.

“I think . . . I think he wished for acceptance.”

___________

“No one remembers anymore.”

Eric scuffs his skate against this ice, building up a small pile of shavings before scattering them again, focusing on the soft white as if somehow he’ll be able to transport himself bodily to somewhere cool and quiet. Jackson Hole. Banff. Tremblant. Anywhere but here. Anywhen but now.

“Saw Tater last week at a press junket. Blank stares all around. Some days, most days, I wake up and I don’t know how I got here. I can go without thinking of him.”

Weeks. Eric doesn’t say aloud. Months. Those hideous mornings when he wakes up beside a warm body and forgets they aren’t him. They aren’t supposed to be him. Was there ever even a him.

Jack. Eric mouths silently, just to remind himself. His name is Jack.

The details always slip. The universe constantly trying to correct the fallacy of Eric Bittle remembering a man who died before they technically ever met. Faded photographs and corrupted memory cards. Selfies that used to have two people in frame. Vlog posts with cosmic ADR, swapping Jack’s name for someone else’s like a hastily rewritten script. Eventually, even Eric’s memories turn traitor. First times lost to reshoots and post-production magic. Blue eyes are brown. Black hair is blonde. Jack becomes Phillip. Eric’s first love recast. In desperation, he pulls a page from Memento, finds a tattoo parlor and has ‘Jack Laurent Zimmermann’ inked in dark, unmistakable letters on his inner thigh. Adds a cup, the Falconers’ crest, and the date they lost everything. It works well enough until the name fades; there are still days where a hook up will ask why Eric has a championship tattoo for a team he never played with.

Now, all he has is Bob.

“That’s why I’m here.” Bob reminds. “That’s why we talk.”

“But what happens if we don’t.”

Bob’s familiar assurances rumble through the phone. Constant. Refusing to acknowledge the harsh realities of the passing of time. The ever-present doomsday clock moving them both toward disaster — Bob aging, Eric aging out. He’s good, but he isn’t great, and the only offers coming his way are single-season contracts with teams that haven’t sniffed a championship in years. One day very soon, there will be no more chances for Eric to undo what’s been done. No more favors to ask of teammates that have long since forgotten a world where Jack Zimmermann was a college graduate and a rookie MVP. Not just an addict. Not just dead at nineteen.

Eric listens to Bob ramble, asks him to tell him a story, to tell him about the Jack that Eric never really got to know. The Jack he can barely remember. A man that Eric has dedicated his entire life to honoring, to bringing back — from where he cannot fathom — and Bob obliges in a soft tone Eric imagines is not dissimilar from how he must have spoken to his son as a child.

Eric ignores his teammates rushing around him — tossing chirps and gentle insults about his ‘Sugar Daddy’ — and focuses on the accented voice in his ear; grasping desperately at the memory of a man who doesn’t exist. Pretending. Hoping.

__________

Across the ice, Eric sees Kent Parson watching him. When they lock eyes, the aging star glides toward him, under a guise of one amicable captain greeting another. He’s pushing 37, and while the years of competitive play are starting to show, he’s just as viciously handsome as the day they first met. At least, Eric thinks he is. He can’t imagine a life where Kent Parson strolled onto a college campus and played beer pong at a frat party, but there’s a folder of old photos on Eric’s computer. Jack is in none of them, but there’s one of himself and Kent. Smiling.

Eric can’t recall why the image bothers him so much.

Parson used his wish years ago on something that he’s never bothered to share — and Eric’s far too much a gentleman to ask a man who was once a rival what he wasted his golden ticket on — but now, he’s slowing down, and this is supposed to be his farewell season. Going out with a bang, riding the high of his fifth cup win. He’s worked hard, and he deserves to shove the Penguins back down into obscurity for another season. Deserves it far more than Eric, with his selfish, single-mindedness that’s ruined god knows how many careers in the last decade between his own ruthlessness and Bob’s meddling.

Except. . . this is also likely Eric’s last season. His last chance to undo the great tragedy of his life, and Parson knows it.

“How you feeling, Peaches? You ready?”

Eric hates the nickname in the same way he hates when his father calls him ‘Champ’.

Eric fights his own shame because he wants to be honest, say, ‘No, I’m not ready, I’ll never be ready,’ but Eric can’t ask for what he wants, anymore. He wants the Aces to balk on a power play. He wants Parson to flub a pass and throw the game — he even knows the man would probably do it, too — but Eric needs to come by a win honestly. They learned the hard way in 2022 when Eric hands were wrapped around the cup, wishing, praying, crying, pleading . . .

Clear eyes, full hearts, or some such bullshit.

Cheaters don’t get wishes.

“I can’t remember, anymore,” Eric admits as they square up across the face-off circle, the resigned terror of an inescapable end creeping upon him like the burn of an old injury ignored for far too long. “Kent. Please.” Parson leans down, rests his stick against the ice, and holds Eric’s gaze as if to say, I’m here. Trust me. Just play.

The puck drops.

________

There’s someone watching him, young, handsome with dark hair and the kind of bright blue eyes that scream ‘notice me’ with all of the biological bluntness of neon plumage and a mating dance. The man weaves through the crowd, unnoticed by Eric’s teammates, and comes close enough that Eric can’t help but assume familiarity. He must be a fan, the way he’s flushed and excitable.

Eric’s drunk enough on the moment that he’s happy to indulge his baser instincts. He also literally can’t remember the last time he brought company home and if there’s ever been a night to get laid, it’s this one.

“Crisse, look at you, Bits.”

The man is caught between being awestruck and simply struck, reaching out to touch Eric’s arm but not quite making contact, like his depth perception is the tiniest bit off. He drops Eric’s old nickname so easily, so earnestly, that for a moment Eric thinks they might already know each other — but that’s impossible. Eric would remember someone so handsome, so very much his type.

“Only my friends call me ‘Bitty’.” Eric cautions, raising his half-empty champagne bottle in a mock toast and flashing his best ‘you’re coming home with me tonight’ smile. “But I’m more than happy to to get acquainted with you, Sugar.”

Eric isn’t usually this forward, this unrestrained. Tonight, it doesn’t matter, he’s celebrating: another championship, the end of a career, a life well lived. It’s to be expected. What isn’t expected is how the man’s relieved smile falters; as if Eric’s unbridled joy is somehow misplaced.

“Bitty? It’s me.”

“And ‘me’ is called . . . ?”

On very few occasions in Eric’s life has he been able to witness true devastation first-hand; and those instances were related to deaths, hockey losses, or blackout morning afters.

“Jack.” The man says softly, face slack with surprise. “It’s. . . Jack. Bitty, you know me.”

“If we’ve met before, I’m sorry,” Eric apologizes, hating to see the kid look so defeated. “I meet so many people — ”

Over Jack’s shoulder, Eric catches sight of Bob Zimmermann and waves, delighting in the way Bob’s face lights up when he catches sight of Eric, practically going supernova when he notices Jack as well, crossing the ice like a man possessed; Bob moves to pull them both into a hug but Eric’s new friend holds up a defensive hand and Bob stops mid-gesture.

It’s extremely apparent something is off, and between the reporters, the confetti, the champagne, and the fans, Eric is missing all of the context clues.

“Just won my last cup,” Eric singsongs, gesturing with the bottle between his mentor and the man Eric would very much like to fuck — who look very similar now that Eric can see them side by side. “Everyone’s super excited, right? Yeah? So, what’s going on. Did someone die?”

“No.” Bob says quickly, eyes flicking between Jack and Eric warily. “No. Not . . . that.”

“Severely injured?”

“. . . Non.”

“Okay, then, we should be celebrating!” Eric throws his arms wide and nearly clocks a passing teammate. “No more party pooping, Bobbert. Speaking, this is my new friend, Jack. Jack, Bob, Bob, Jack. Though, I’m getting the feeling you two might know each other. Or might be . . . related.” Eric gasps and smacks his free palm against his forehead. “Oh my god, the Tremblant retreat? Is that where I know you from? Listen, I was fucked up on pain meds that whole weekend, I am so sorry if we’ve already met.”

Despite Eric’s continued attempts at clarifying their shared mystery past, Jack keeps looking at Bob with that same wounded expression and it’s really killing Eric’s buzz.

“Bob.” Eric redirects. “Help me, here. Cutie’s nervous.”

“Eric, this is my, ah, well,” Bob’s smile is so forced, so tense, it looks more like a grimace. “Well, this is my son, Jack.”

There is only one ‘Jack’ Eric has ever known in relation to Bob Zimmermann, and he is not someone to be mentioned in polite conversation.

“Your son?” Eric echoes slowly. “Your son, Jack.”

Bob realizes what Eric’s tiptoeing around and casts a furtive glance toward the younger man, lifting two fingers to his cheek conspiratorially to imply ‘it’s a long story, not meant for public ears’. Eric knows how to play along.

“Wow, okay, did not expect that, but now that you’re saying it, I can one-hundred-percent tell. You have the same, well, everything.”

Eric takes Jack’s hand for an obligatory shake, not missing the way Jack’s features twist up into something caught between flattery and misery, before staring down his pseudo-mentor.

“My question is this, where have you’ve been hiding him — because how long have I know you, Bobby? Shame.”

“I’ve been . . . away.”

Jack’s tone is weighted with context Eric absolutely does not possess, but can definitely read into. Given the age difference and Alicia’s conspicuous lack of attendance this evening, Jack’s definitely a love child from some 90s Zimmergroupie. Or, original Jack didn’t actually OD and Bob spirited away his kid to keep away the prying eyes of the public; but that wouldn’t explain the age difference or the shared name.

Oh, Bobbert.

“Couldn’t wheel him out too soon,” Bob jokes, but Eric can tell the man’s heart isn’t in it, reinforcing Eric’s suspicion.

“Well, I’m happy you did,” Eric says graciously, trying to smooth over the awkwardness. “He’s very handsome, when he isn’t doing this Eeyore impression.”

“Just like his father,” Bob says reflexively — defensively — as Jack goes pink. “Eric, will you excuse us for a moment? Back in five minutes, tops.”

Eric offers a gracious wave, gaze lingering on Jack’s retreating back — and backside, bless — watching Bob rest a firm hand on his son’s neck, gripping tightly to lean in and furiously whisper something. As Eric watches, Jack looks back over his shoulder; it’s not the fond glance of a potential paramour. Regret, maybe? Grief, definitely.

He must be as disappointed to be cock-blocked by his father as Eric is.

Across the ice, Kent Parson has rushed Jack, gathering him into a crushing embrace that the younger man returns easily — burying his face against Parson’s pads; pulling back only when Parson grabs Jack’s shoulders to push him away, taking a long look at him, holding his face between his hands briefly before pulling Jack back into his arms.

They don’t just look like old friends, it’s a reunion of desperation, like the videos his mother sends of soldiers coming home from war, but before Eric can think better of it, a teammate fists a hand in the collar of Eric’s sweater and pulls — away from Bob’s forlorn love child and forgotten first meetings — and the night goes on.

Bob doesn’t return. Neither does Jack.

Eric doesn’t even notice.

__________

#Part I #maybe?#zimbits #omgcp #angst #long fic #cup magic #ice magic #my stuff #my fic #NHL!Bitty

196 notes · View notes

sofreddie · 4 years ago

Text

High School Reunion 2

Summary: Someone at the reunion has a big mouth.

Characters: Jensen x Reader, Jared

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 2,087

A/N: Inspiration struck out of nowhere and this piece was born. I have a very rough outline for a small series, maybe about 6 parts? We'll see. It's gonna happen randomly, no planned schedule for this one.

PART 1

Y/N bit her lip in excitement and saw a message from Lana. She immediately opened Skype to call her best friend…and thank her.

"Hey you! How was the reunion?" Lana smiled as her face appeared on screen.

"Oh my fucking God I can't believe you!" Y/N screamed, though it was mostly excitement as she blushed profusely.

"So…I take it you had a good night then?" Lana grinned cheekily.

"How could you not tell me you met Jensen Freaking Ackles?! I thought we were friends?" Y/N pouted dramatically as she plopped back on her couch, phone still in hand.

"Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep it from you?" Lana screeched in response, "You remember my last night at the convention, I went to that place for dinner that had the amazing burger?"

"Yeah, I remember. You said you loved the place, that it was a perfect ending to the trip," Y/N remembered, "Now I get why."

"Ok, yeah, so I'm sat at the bar with my burger and a beer and he comes in and sits with a chair between us. I instantly recognized him, but was trying to keep my cool, you know. But he remember me! From the photo op! So we just got to talking and you had just split with Chase and I was so worried about you-"

"Oh Lana, you didn't," Y/N groaned.

"I was just venting about how much I hated that douchebag and what he did to you and what you were going through and how I was so worried about the reunion but thought it could be a good thing for you after Chase-" she rambled on, her words quickly tumbling forth as she pleaded her case to her best friend.

"You're not mad, right?" Lana asked timidly.

"How can I be?" Y/N shouted, "He walked in there all suave and shut down my high school bullies - who were trying to start some shit let me tell you-"

"No!" Lana gasped, "Amanda?"

"And the others," Y/N sighed, "And they were trying to cut in on me and I was gonna run, I'm not gonna lie," Y/N chuckled lightly, "But then he was just there. And she introduced himself as my boyfriend….Oh my god, Lana! What if that gets out?" Y/N sat bolt upright on her couch in a panic.

"Whoa, Y/N, calm down," Lana insisted, "More important than that…he introduced himself as your boyfriend?!"

"Lana!"

"I'm just sayin'-"

Y/N sighed dreamily, "Then we danced. Then he took me for a drive and we parked up at the spot and ate burgers while chatting and watching stars," she sighed again, as if it were a scene from a romantic film she had just watched.

"That sounds like a date," Lana helpfully noted.

"I thought that too!" Y/N squealed, "But that's just the fangirl right? I mean, there's no way."

"How many times I gotta tell you you're a catch, woman?" Lana laughed, "I'm not surprised at all. In fact, I'm taking credit. You're welcome," Y/N groaned once more and Lana chuckled.

"Did I mention we exchanged numbers?" Y/N added with a grin.

"And now I hate you," Lana huffed.

"Yeah, love you too you meddler."

Y/N sighed happily to herself once more as they ended the call. She tossed her phone on the coffee table as she relaxed back into the couch. Her eyes fluttered closed as she replayed the evenings events in her mind.

She had to be dreaming. There was no way this was real, right?

Too tired and content to carry herself off to the bedroom, Y/N laid down on the couch, settling into the plush cushions and dragging the throw from the back of the couch to cover herself, falling asleep quickly and dreaming of shimmering green eyes.

Jensen groaned as he slowly came awake to the incessant ringing and chimes of his phone. He opened his eyes, grabbing for the phone and peeking at the time.

6am.

He and Y/N were out past midnight. After he made it back to the hotel, he had spent the better part of an hour sipping on a beer as he thought over the night he had with her.

He wasn't sure what compelled him to talk to Lana in the bar that night. He could tell she was a nervous fan, and he remembered her from the photo op, just as nervous and shy. But after a beer or two with her dinner, she relaxed and their conversation flowed. It was nice, to be chatting away with someone new, different.

When she went on about her best friend Y/N, Jensen felt something. Apparently the way if affected her friend was severe enough to have Lana in real turmoil over it. Jensen knew what that was like. He'd worried over Jared a time or two just the same.

When Lana gave him a picture, however, his heart skipped a beat. She was beautiful, with a charming smile. But he could see her eyes were sad and guarded.

When he realized the reunion was a few hours drive and a few days ahead of his schedule to be at another convention, he decided to make the stop to see Y/N at the reunion. At the very least he could chalk it up to a memorable fan moment.

Jensen rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he reluctantly sat against the headboard, checking to see why his phone was blowing up.

It took only a quick glance through the various calls and text and emails from various persons all talking about the same thing. Jensen opened the text thread from Jared, scrolling through the messages and clicking on a picture that was include.

It was him and Y/N dancing together at the reunion the night before. She looked as amazing as he remembered. Her smile was bright and genuine, but so was his. Apparently word had spread from the reunion that he and Y/N were together. That's when he remembered introducing himself to those girls as Y/N's boyfriend.

He wasn't so bothered by the turn of events, which surprised him. He had decided the night before that he wanted to ask her out on a date. Their chemistry was too intense to not pursue.

What bothered him was how she'd react. They'd literally just met and had a friendly, albeit great, evening and now she was possibly going to be bombarded with paparazzi and everyone in her business.

So much for that date.

He knew it was early, but he wanted Y/N to hear from him first. He opened the new message thread between them, seeing her text from the night before and smiling once more, before typing out his message.

Hey, Y/N. Hope you slept well. Was hoping to talk to you about something.

He sent the message, noting the time, and figured he'd give it some time. He didn't know her schedule, or anything about her really. With a groan, Jensen hit the green button to return one of Jared's missed calls.

"Dude!" Jared exclaimed as he answered after one ring, "I've been trying to get ahold of you for two hours!"

"Yes, Mom, I'm aware," Jensen said with a yawn.

"Did you see the picture?"

"Yeah."

"And?" Jared pressed for more, "Why aren't you freaking out about this?" Jared scoffed. Since his last major relationship ended, Jensen hadn't been with anyone really. An occasional date here and there for an event. But he hadn't seemed interested in anyone at all, and was quick to shut down any insuinuations to the contrary.

"I guess I should of seen it coming," Jensen shrugged, "I did introduce myself as her boyfriend after all."

"You what?" Jared was shocked, trying to wrap his head around it, "Why would you do that? Is there something you aren't telling me? Have you been dating her for a while? Who is she anyway?"

Jared fired off the questions in rapid succession like an excited puppy.

"I gotta talk to her first," Jensen said, "I'll see you at the convention in a couple days. You can interrogate me then."

"I want all the details."

"Don't you always?"

Jensen ended the call, taking a deep breath. He felt so stupid for what he did. He wasn't sure why he did that other than to shut those girls down. He really hated bullies.

He decided to get dressed and grab a couple of coffees on his way to Y/N's house. A quick look at his social media had told him that picture was blowing up. She was bound to find out sooner rather than later. He had to tell her first.

Y/N slowly roused from her deep sleep on the comfy couch, hearing an incessant rapping coming from her front door. She stretched, reaching for her phone on the coffee table and finding it dead.

She rolled her eyes as she threw off the throw, climbing from the couch and shuffling to the door and she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

She flung open the door, the morning's cresting light just bright enough to assault her eyes. It took her a second to focus, but then she saw Jensen, a small smile on his face and two tall coffees in hand.

"Jensen?" she asked, so very confused and wondering if she was still asleep.

"Hey, uh, I know it's early. But I really needed to see you this morning."

The smile he gave was sweet, but she could tell something was up. Was he worried that maybe she'd go blabbing about their night together? She'd never do that. But she guessed he didn't know that.

"Sure, come in," she smiled warmly, stepping aside and gesturing him into her home. She accepted the coffee as Jensen passed it to her on his way in. She shut the door behind him, taking a whiff of her drink before taking a long gulp, closing her eyes and sighing at the flavor.

"So, what's up?" she asked, shuffling on her feet, "Thanks for the coffee, by the way."

"You're welcome," he smiled, now genuine and inviting and Y/N's heart stuttered slightly at the sight, "I was hoping to talk to you, about last night."

She shook her head, "I won't talk about it with anyone, I promise. Well, other then Lana. I had to call her last night. Yell at her a little," she blushed.

He laughed, nodding his head, "No, I get it. But I wasn't worried about that or anything," he was quick to correct, "Actually, someone else already did."

"Did what?"

"Someone got a picture of us on the dance floor last night and might have said I mentioned I was your boyfriend," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh," she responded, clearly shocked and not sure what to say.

"I just wanted you to hear it from me first, you know? Before seeing it online or whatever."

"Online-" she echoed, her eyes going wide, "So, you can just post a Tweet or something that it's a mistake."

"Okay, well, to be fair, I did introduce myself as your boyfriend to those other women last night."

"Yeah…why'd you do that again?" Y/N smirked despite herself.

He shrugged, "Seemed like the right thing to do. Shut 'em up didn't it?" he grinned, "Besides," he chanced, stepping closer to her," Feels like we had a date last night."

She blushed hard, ducking her head before meeting his eyes once again, "Yeah, it did."

"And I was hoping you'd like to do it again."

"Really?" she asked. She couldn't help the dreamy look in her eye. She still couldn't believe this was happening.

"Yeah. So if you say yes, then we'd be dating, which is practically boyfriend and girlfriend," he explained casually, "So I think we should just keep doing what we're doing and let it ride. What do you think?"

"I think you might be a little bit crazy," she nervously laughed, "Let's start with a second date," she grinned, seeing him brighten up, "And go from there."

"And the press?" Jensen chanced.

"Let them think what they wanna think," she shrugged.

"You're freakin' perfect," he chuckled, tucking a stray hair behind her ear, even though she still had bedhead. He smiled at the cuteness of it.

"I should go freshen up!" she realized, seeing him look over her disheveled state, "Uh…be right back." she rushed off down the hall and Jensen laughed to himself.

He had a good feeling about this.

Forevers:

@sis-tafics

@lyarr24

@calaofnoldor

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

@fangirlxwritesx67

RPF:

@smoothdogsgirl

JENSEN TAGS:

@akshi8278

@jerkbitchidjitassbutt

@slamminmine

#high school reunion #jensen x reader #jensen ackles #spn rpf #supernatural rpf #spn #supernatural #reader insert #fluff

114 notes · View notes

mediocre-writerr · 4 years ago

Text

feel something [leah rilke]

leah rilke x fem reader

requested #1: Hi. Can I request a fem!reader x Leah fic where reader gets hurt and Leah gets kind of protective afterwards. Thank you!

requested #2: Part two of that Leah x insomniac reader please!!!!! Maybe one where the girls see just how bad her hero complex is

Pt.1

This wasn’t the first time you’ve almost died on this trip.

According to Nora, you’v been here for 22 days. And you’ve died almost four times since then. Much to Leah, Shelby, and literally all the other girls disappointment.

The first time was after your first actual sleep with Leah. You were climbing up the mountain with Rachel, Shelby, and Leah when the mirror started slipping off the mountain. And without thinking you decided to dive and try to save it.

“Y/N!” Leah yells as you reach for Fatin’s mirror.

“Jesus Y/N!” Shelby yells, “Get up! It’s just a mirror!”

“No we need it to call help!” you reply in between gritted teeth.

Shelby yells, “We’ll figure it out another way please!”

The mirror falls off the cliff and you smack your hand on the hard dirt, “Fuck!”

The three girls drag you back onto a more steady surface. You look down at your scratched up hand and sigh.

“Are you kidding me right now?” Shelby whispers, staring at you incredulously.

“I was just trying to help.” you mumble, continuing to stare at your hand.

“Help us what?!” the blonde scolds, “Help us extend our graveyard?!”

You knew why she was so upset. Back home it was always you, Shelby, and Becca. But ever since Becca was gone, Shelby became more protective of you than she already was. She couldn’t lose someone else.

“I’m sorry.”

Her eyes softens. “It’s okay. Just please be more careful.”

While Shelby got over it, Leah was shaken up on the thought of losing you. She thought it was ridiculous you two just met, but she never felt so drawn to someone one.

Not since Jefferey.

She threw her arms around you. And you immediately reciprocated the hug, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“I’m okay Leah,” you whisper softly.

The next time it happened was a few days after that. You managed to keep your sleep schedule straight with the help of Leah, but again almost died.

Overexertion is what the girls like to call it. But you like to call it putting in 100% effort to help everyone else survive. This one wasn’t too serious, just passing out and being lost for a few hours.

No biggie really.

You wouldn’t necessarily count this one as a near death experience, but Nora insists. Because if they didn’t find you wild animals could’ve probably eaten me.

After that Leah made sure you ate and drank as much as possible. When the girls found out you were skipping out on food, so there was more for them to eat they scolded you.

“Dude you need to eat!” Toni yells, after they bring you back to the camp.

“I thought everyone else deserved more food than me.” you say.

Toni scoffs, but Fatin cuts into the conversation, “And we really appreciate that you’re trying to help, but you need to take care of yourself too.”

“What is this some intervention?” you ask, jokingly, but all of their faces were serious, “Oh you’re being serious.”

“Hell yeah we are!” Rachel yells.

“Y/N, you can’t keep putting yourself in life or death situations. We’ve cheated death once. You continuing to do it will kill you one day!” Toni says and you look down at your feet.

Leah was quiet for the rest of the time that night. She would just stare out at the ocean, lost in her own thoughts. You knew she was mad at you, but there wasn’t much you can actually do.

You thought she wasn’t gonna talk to you or even interact with you for that matter, but she put her head on your shoulder and nuzzled into your neck. You gently rest your head on top of hers.

Hesitantly, you turn your head ever so slightly placing a kiss to the top of her head. And you couldn’t see it, but Leah was smiling probably wider than she has ever smiled in the past couple months.

The third time was a little more scary for not only the girls, but for you. It was the next night.

The tides were rising higher than they ever did before. Crashing hard and fast, it was like a mini tsunami. The girls were all freaking out trying their best to hold in so they wouldn’t get swept away.

“Is everyone okay?” you yell above all the screaming, “Dot! Can you do a head count?”

“Shelby?” Dot yells.

“Right here!” her Texas accent comes through and I release a sigh of relief.

“Leah?!” Dot yells out again and your heart dropped into your stomach.

“I’m over here!” her voice called out, but it was distant.

You turned your head, searching everywhere for her voice to see that she climbed up onto the cliffs. You let out another sigh of relief.

In the distance, you could see Fatin trying to grab the rest of her luggage. And she seemed to have had a hold on it when a wave came crashing in, as she disappeared from view.

“Fuck Fatin!!” you yell and it gets all of the girls attention.

You finally see her as she starts to drift off a little by the riptide. And without hesitation you immediately took off running, taking off your shirt, shoes, and jeans in the process.

“Y/N! No!” Dot yells.

But it was too late you were already swimming against the current. It was tiring to say the least, but you had to get to Fatin. Your arms and legs were burning, but all you could think about was helping her.

You finally got to Fatin and pulled her and her suitcase in front of you. She was floating on top of it, trying to stay above the water. You pushed her suitcase as you tried your best to get back to shore without getting swept back.

Just as you’re about to reach shore another huge wave came crashing down. With one last push you pushed Fatin further causing her to reach the shore. And you? Sucked back in right where Fatin was.

It was getting too tiring, swimming back. You were about to give up when you heard Shelby’s voice come from the shore.

“No fucking way! You’re not giving up right now!” she yells at you and she could how you stopped treading water and just floated. You were too tired and your arms and legs felt like they were about to fall off, “If God brought us to it, God will bring us through it! So push Y/N!”

Your whole demeanor changed hearing those words. It’s something you, Shelby, and Becca said to each other whenever one of us had a bad day or needed some inspiration.

So you pushed and pushed until you finally got back.

Breathless and tired, you laid on the cool sand. Coughing up a storm at the very least.

“Y/N!” Leah says, rushing over to your side immediately.

She immediately grabs my dry clothes and throw them over me. Leah scoops me into her arms and places me onto her lap. She rubs my back softly as I continue to cough up a lung.

“You’re an idiot.” Dot says bluntly, but a relieved smile was on her face.

You chuckled softly, “Someone had to go save her.”

The rest of the time following Leah never left your side. She watched you eat and drink. Yelled at you to take your breaks when needed and kept you sane.

And if any sort of danger arises, she grabs my wrist and pulls you to sit back down.

Now here you were day 22, finding yourself risking your life for yet another time. And by the looks of the situation probably your last.

After the tide swept away your shelter, you decided to make another one. A bigger one. But as the odds like to have it lightning struck down causing to catch on fire in the middle of the night.

Dot was doing yet another headcount, “Shelby? Where’s Shelby?!”

You look around frantically desperate to find your best friend. Leah was right by your side, so you knew she was okay.

“Help me!” you hear the blonde call out and you knew immediately where the sound was coming from.

The fucking shelter.

Leah saw the look in your eye and right when you were about to take off running she grabbed your arm, “No, you can’t. That’s a death wish going in there!” she exclaims.

“Leah, she’s my best friend,” you whisper softly, “I can’t let her die.”

“If you go in there, I will never forgive you.” she states, a serious look in those blue eyes.

Your eyes soften, but you take your hands and cup her cheeks lightly. You close the distance between the two of you. When Leah kisses back, you can feel tear drops fall onto your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” you state as you pull apart, before taking off running for shelter.

Once you made it in the small, really hot space, you saw Shelby trapped underneath a pile of burning wood.

“It hurts so bad Y/N!” she exclaims and you know she’ll definitely have some burns.

“I know Shelb, I know. I’m right here. We’re gonna get you out of here okay?” you say and she nods her head.

There was only one way out and if you pull Shelby out of the burning wood this whole thing can go collapsing on top of you. But what other choice do we have? She can’t walk so either way you would have to drag or carry her out.

“Come on Y/N, think. Think!” you yell to yourself as the exhaustion starts to build up in your chest.

From all the smoke you continued to cough and cough. If you didn’t get her and you out of there now, you might as well be dead.

“Y/N look at me.” Shelby whispers and you finally look at her, “If God brough us to it?”

“God will bring us through it.” you whisper back, nodding at her.

You squatted down in front of her, “I need you to wrap your arms around my neck, like a piggy back ride.”

She follows suit, “Okay done.”

“Once we pull you out from underneath there, I need you to wrap your legs around me. It’s gonna hurt, but it’ll be needed.” you say in between coughs, “Now all we have to do it take that leap of faith. Ready?”

“Yeah.” she whispers.

You pull her out of the burning wood causing her to groan out in pain. And the building started caving in on top of each other. But as if you had real life super powers you ran out of the place as fast you could.

Barely making it out of there on time as the two of you trip and fell over a log that was outside.

“Shelb? Are you okay?” you say in a fit of coughs.

“Yeah, my leg just really hurts.” she replies.

You immediately get up in the midst of your coughing fit to pick her up bridal style. Walking the little ways back to camp, you could see the girls’ faces lighten up.

And when your eyes landed on Leah you could see how red and puffy her face was. Your heart dropped in your chest once more as you saw the worried features on her face.

“Dot I need you to tend to her burns before they get infected.” you say in between coughs.

Your lungs felt like they were on fire right now, “What about you? What do you need?” Dot asks.

But you just cough into your hand, shooing her away to go take care of Shelby. You were fine, Shelby needed the most help. And as you were walking to go sit down, the world started spinning and everything went black.

“Come on Y/N. I need you.” you hear a voice whisper, awaking you slightly from your sleep.

Your head was lying in someone’s lap and your eyes fluttered open to see Leah staring back at you. The sun now shining down upon the crazy beach.

“Hey, you’re awake.” she whispers, leaning down to hold you tightly, “We thought we lost you. I thought you were gone.” she replies.

You cup her face lightly, “I’m right here. I’m sorry.”

“You can’t do this Y/N. You can’t keep trying to kill yourself! I need you. Please. I need you. You can’t-you can’t leave me.” Leah starts to cry and you do your best to wipe away all the tears.

“I’m not going anywhere okay? I’m staying right here.” you say softly, trying to soothe her worries.

She nods, “Promise me?” she whispers her voice practically begging you to promise her.

“I promise.”

#leah rilke #leah rilke imagine #leah rilke x reader #leah rilke x fem reader #the wilds #the wilds imagines

176 notes · View notes

memeadonna · 4 years ago

Text

The Kingdom of Roses

You are the princess of Rusika, a kingdom neighbouring Novoselic. When one of your government’s high ranking officials is taken as a political prisoner, your kingdom retaliates by taking some of your own -- and they just might be more than you bargained for.

Hello Everybody! My name is Jess and I’ve been a longtime fan of Danganronpa, from around 2012 or 2013 when I first played the games. I wanted to try my hand at writing a reader insert for one of my favourite characters (and my first ever husbando), one Kazuichi Souda. This beautiful art really inspired me (I scoured high and low for an artist credit, but I couldn’t find one. If you know who drew it please let me know and I will give them the appropriate credit), and I wrote an x reader. I hope you all enjoy! Warnings: This work contains NSFW not suitable for readers under 18. Please do not interact with this post if you are under 18.

Monarchies were a dying form of government. Most countries had established parliaments by now, but the Kingdom of Rusika, where you were born, and a few neighbouring kingdoms held onto their royal families until the very end. Novoselic was one such kingdom, one that until a few days ago had been your ally. Your father – beloved king of Rusika – had sent one of his most trusted advisors to negotiate a trade deal with the Nevermind family, rulers of Novoselic.

That advisor had been captured and held at ransom for some unknown reason. The Novoselic Kingdom really had no idea what they were doing, did they?

Sonia Nevermind was someone you had grown up with. The two of you had never been friends, per se, but you understood one another. You were Princesses tasked with leading your kingdoms towards prosperity. Your countries were similar enough – they had once been one, but after a civil war in 926, the country had been divided in half. While Novoselic’s exports consisted of luxury goods – wine, chocolate, and cheese – Rusika’s were more practical. Your main exports were related to geothermal energy and associated technologies, or mining precious gems. Your country – the kingdom of roses – was building the future. Hers was stuck in the past, weighed down by stupid traditions.

Your father trusted you more than Sonia’s father trusted her, and so you had grown up with more responsibilities. You had learned early on the burdens of leadership, and eventually began to find her boring. You made sure she never caught on, always giving her your full attention whenever she rambled about her silly life and silly problems.

Both of your countries had hit economic booms, so what need was there to worry? Gah, her philosophy was so stupid.

Today you woke up to find that your father had arranged the kidnapping of two of Sonia’s closest friends. She had just graduated from the prestigious Hope’s Peak Academy, and had apparently invited her entire class to Novoselic to spend their last vacation celebrating.

It was strange of him to make such a decision without consulting you first. You were supposed to be queen of Rusika one day, and he always made sure you had a say in decisions. Today you were instructed to dress the part of a princess and come greet your guests. You were to show them hospitality and make them feel welcome. You might have kidnapped them, but you weren’t monsters. They would literally receive the royal treatment, and you were to be put in charge of them.

As your handmaidens helped you dress (corseting you, doing your hair and makeup, and fixing your jewelry could be a six-person job), you went over what you wanted to say to your prisoners. How the hell were you supposed to make them feel welcome?

You had never seen a person with two different coloured eyes before. You had also never seen a person with pink hair. Based on the way they looked at you, dripping in jewels and looking your part, you doubted they had seen Sonia in all of her glory yet. You smiled as you introduced yourself, trying your hardest not to look like you were studying them. You explained the situation to them, told them they were valuable political prisoners and would not be harmed or imprisoned as long as they behaved, and did not try to leave.

The man with two different coloured eyes called you a fiend, as well as many other dark names as he promised his Princess would come for him. The man with pink hair affirmed “Miss. Sonia will rescue me!” and shook his fist at you, trying his best not to look starstruck.

Eventually, you got their names out of them.

“How long will we be here?” Gundham asked you over dinner that night. “I wish to return home as soon as possible. I have responsibilities.”

Realistically, you knew it wouldn’t be a quick endeavour. You and Sonia had spent three months as prisoners in a neighbouring kingdom as Rusika and Novoselic had laid siege to the capitol. That was when you had learned she was boring. She kept to herself in her room, and almost seemed upset with you whenever you would negotiate with your captors, or walked the palace grounds like a free woman.

“As long as it takes” you answered coolly, glad that Japanese was one of the languages your family had forced you to learn. Members of the royal family having to speak thiry languages was one tradition that Rusika had kept from its time joined with Novoselic. It came in handy when negotiating with foreigners. “I cannot provide a clearer answer than that.”

“Don’t worry, Gundham,” Souda spoke up. “Sonia will come for us!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gundham spent most of his time observing the animals on your palace grounds. Your late mother had loved peacocks, so your father had taken up breeding them. She had loved many different animals when she had been alive, so the grounds weren’t exactly wanting. He enjoyed speaking with the vain birds, whistling and cooing until they would fan their elegant tails. His hamsters seemed to enjoy their accommodations too, with more seeds than they could have ever hoped to have eaten.

Souda, however, wanted to remain as unaffected as possible. He did his best to refuse any luxuries you offered him. It was only after you found out he had taken apart every electronic device in his room did you ask Gundham. The Ultimate Breeder had warmed up to you quickly, especially since you were the reason his hamsters were so well taken care of.

After Gundham cryptically told you about Souda, you gifted the Mechanic with a set of tools and new appliances to play with. Boredom could be so cruel, and the last thing you wanted was undue suffering.

Seeing him slip shyly into your study made your gift worth it. He was so awkward as he stumbled out a thanks, looking everywhere except your face. He was blushing and fiddling with a screwdriver as he spoke. “I still don’t trust you. You’re Miss. Sonia’s enemy,” he pointed his finger at you. “And any enemy of Miss. Sonia is an enemy of mine.”

“Would you like a workshop?” you asked him calmly. “I’m sure your room is a bit cluttered with all of those appliances. I just want to make your stay comfortable, I bear no ill will towards you, Mr. Souda.”

His cheeks flamed up and he stammered out a non-answer, shuffling out of the room and slamming the door behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Souda and Gundham had been with you a little over two weeks when the former finally cracked. He once more barged into your study, and looked you up and down. “I want somewhere to work,” he declared. He placed a crumpled piece of paper on your desk. “Here’s the list of everything I need.”

You saved the speech you were writing and logged off of your computer. “Come with me, Mr. Souda,” you stood gracefully, glad you no longer had to wear your ballgowns around him. It had always made you feel overdressed and obnoxious, especially considering he preferred to wear his jumpsuit rather than the clothes your country had provided him with. It had taken a lot to even convince him to let the servants wash the suit, let alone wear another while he waited.

In the end, you had commissioned seven identical jumpsuits for him, to match the one he already wore. At least he no longer reeked.

You paused at the door to the workshop you had set up for him. There was a guard stationed outside, but a nod from you dismissed him. Kazuichi’s eyes lit up as he observed all of the new-age tech he had to play with. He stammered out a bright-eyed thanks, and you gave him your brightest smile. You had done lots of research into what he would enjoy; he was your guest, not your prisoner. Right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a month, Novoselic struck up a deal with Rusika. A hostage for hostage trade: Gundham Tanaka for your father’s cherished advisor. Kazuichi had not been mentioned in the negotiations at all, something that did not sit right with you.

He tried to pretend that he wasn’t upset he had been forgotten, but it was obvious to anybody with half of a brain he was torn up. You made efforts to spend more time with him. You had him accompany you on walks around the castle’s garden, and even took him out of the palace for a few walks around town for a change of scenery. Nothing you said lifted his spirits. He barely even looked at you now.

You watched him tinkering with his toys, but even that seemed to have lost its shine for him. He looked so sad, so bored that it made you anxious.

“May I ask you something?” you questioned on one such walk. The two of you had been caught in the rain and had sought shelter underneath a quaint gazebo. He looked back at you with a curt nod. “How is your hair pink?”

He blinked at you for a moment before he burst out laughing. It was the first time since he had come to Rusika that he had laughed, and it made your cheeks flame up as he smiled at you.

“I dye it,” he told you after he calmed down. “I first bleach my hair to take the colour out, and then I use a dye to turn it pink.”

“Colour?” You blinked up at him. “What colour is your hair supposed to be?”

Instead of answering, he removed his beanie to reveal about an inch of jet-black hair growing in at his roots. Your eyes widened in wonder. “So, it must be bleached again on the new hair?” you asked.

“Yes,” he smiled at you dopily. “It has to be done every few months or the hair will grow in its natural colour.”

“Does it feel different?” you asked. “The pink and the black?” Instead of replying, he took your hand and placed it onto his hair. Your blush only deepened as you felt how soft it was, and noticed his cheeks were bright red too as you pulled away. “Do you wish to turn your hair pink again? I will send for my stylist.”

He smiled at you, soft but genuine. “I’d really like that. Then I’ll feel a bit more like me,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What are you doing?” Souda peeked over your shoulder. You smiled tiredly up at him and you stretched as subtly as you could. You had been taking daily walks with him for several weeks now, and he would always drop by every few hours to see how you were doing, or to show off his latest invention.

“I’m looking at the schematics for a new geothermal energy plant,” you answered. “I’m trying to sort out how we can make our energy extraction more efficient.”

Kazuichi looked over the blueprints on your laptop screen. “I’d have to do the calculations, but if you merged these two pipes here-” he pointed. “-you would cut down significantly on the energy wasted.”

“Pull up a chair,” you told him. “Let’s take a look together, shall we?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kazuichi had been in your care for three months now, and he hardly acted like a prisoner. He called you “Miss” (probably because you called him Mr. Souda), and tended to barge in on you whenever he wanted. He had repaired the castle’s heating system, boosted your internet connection, and even helped you overhaul the design of your new energy plants. These plants would be 46% more efficient than the last schematic, something that amazed you. You told him repeatedly how marvellous he was, if only to see his face light up.

Lately, he had started wearing the jumpsuits your family had initially provided him with – similar to his old one but stamped with your country’s crest on the back – and had been a bit more… touchy than before. He would put a hand on the small of your back while you walked, or gently brush a lock of hair from your face as the two of you had tea.

You were not experienced in the slightest with intimacy or wanting to be in a relationship – you were certain you would learn that after you became queen – but now he was all you could think about. You knew the basics, knew what to expect from a man, but your heart was uncharted territory. You had never loved someone before, and some deep-seated fear in your heart was worried he would think you were taking advantage of him.

“I was in love with her, you know,” he told you one day while you were out for a walk. The two of you were once more caught in the rain and taking shelter in the same gazebo. “I loved Sonia.” Sonia. Not Miss. Sonia.

“Did it hurt?” you asked back, and immediately felt stupid for asking. It was none of your business, why did you want to know?

“I guess?” he shrugged. “I don’t – she never treated me like I mattered. She made me feel like I was nothing. Just a pest. Like I was disposable.”

“Sonia is a fool,” you told him. You meant it, of course you did, but at that moment you just wanted him to smile. “Your contributions will certainly leave their marks on this world. You are a remarkable person with a remarkable talent. Anybody who would overlook you is an utter fool.”

Kazuichi reached into his pocket and pulled out a small speaker. He set it on the railing, and it began to play a soft, slow song. “Will you dance with me?” he asked shyly.

“Of course,” you smiled at him, holding out your hand for him to take.

His steps were sloppy and uncoordinated, but the feeling of his warm body in your arms made you feel safe. You wanted him to love you. Love you the way he loved Sonia, and then even more. A legendary love that would eclipse all others.

When he leaned down to kiss you, you automatically tilted you head to the side. It felt like the first time and the thousandth time all at once – something new and exciting, yet undeniably right. He grinned at you like an idiot and kept swaying with you while the song ended.

“It all feels perfect with I’m with you,” he told you. “Like it all makes sense.”

“I understand,” you smiled up at him. “I feel the same way too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He barely left your side now. He would let you work, of course, but wanted to spend his every waking hour with you. He held your hand on your walks, kissed your knuckles like a gentleman whenever he greeted you, and kissed you passionately when you were alone with him. You loved watching him light up at your presence – it was like his world began and ended with you.

His greatest joy was when he got to work with you. To see you listening carefully to his advice, offering insights of your own based on your knowledge. You worked to improve both your geothermal energy plants and plan for new mines. The number of precious stones mined this year was astronomical, and it wasn’t over yet.

Your father was impressed with the improvements he had made to the schematics he had been provided with, so he was gradually given more and more responsibility (along with his freedom, of course). Eventually, he began to receive an “allowance” as payment for the work he was doing. He spent most of it on new gadgets to tinker with or gifts for you. You would often retire to your room to find a vase full of flowers or a box of chocolates, and every time you saw them you would break out into a grin you could not stop.

The two of you would text one another (he made himself a cellphone because he was “bored and wanted to try it”) until you fell asleep, and within those words he bared his soul. He told you about his horrific home life – about the man who had dared to harm him – and about the friends who had betrayed him. He told you how much you mattered to him, all of the things he would do for you. Give up for you.

When he told you about his father hitting him one too many times, you left your room and went to his. You just needed to hold him, make him feel safe the same way he made you feel safe.

You were glad you went when you did, because there was a woman dressed in black trying to drag him out of the window. You raised the security alarm, and she was apprehended. Mukuro Ikusaba – the Ultimate Soldier – was thrown into your actual prison, and you once more had trouble with Novoselic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You answered the door with bleary eyes, but seeing Souda’s tired smile as he mumbled about not sleeping was worth it. You used your new nickname for him – the word in your mother tongue that meant little pink rose – and he melted into your arms. You didn’t care that you were wearing your nightgown, or that it was early in the morning, you had your prince charming and he was safe, and he was yours. Yours.

“I had a nightmare,” he was curled up among your pillows, snuggled up under your blankets. “You forgot about me like she did.”

“I’m not her,” you reminded him, pressing a kiss to his forehead before resting your own against it. You could feel his warm breath ghosting over your lips, and as you let your eyes slip shut your hands found his. “I will never think of you as less than extraordinary, my darling.” You promised.

He kissed your cheek, slowly painting his way over your cheekbones and down to your lips. You responded wonderfully, one hand cupping his cheek as you kissed him slowly. You opened your eyes to see him staring at you with pure adoration. He wasn’t wearing his contacts, and his eyes were a light, rosy brown colour. Stunning.

“I love you,” the words slipped out of your mouth unbidden. You were speaking in your mother tongue now, but based on the smile he gave you and the whisper of “Ai shiteru” you got in return, he had understood. More than understood.

Your lips met his again, a strange kind of hunger filling you. He must have felt the change too, the atmosphere crackling with energy as you traced your fingers over his body. As he traced his fingers over yours.

You both stripped completely and held one another, clumsy and laughing and so in love. “Tell me if it hurts,” he had whispered to you as he stretched you open with his fingers. You had kissed him in response, a smiling sort of kiss that you hope conveyed more than a simple “I love you”.

Your lovemaking didn’t last long, but it didn’t have to to be perfect. It felt like it was right out of a fairy tale, and your prince charming was here to save you from everything bad in the world. You were here to save him, in reality, but you were more than happy to indulge him in his fantasies, so long as you could play a part in them.

When you were done, he wrapped you in his arms and placed a kiss to your temple. He hummed softly and played with your hair, whispering his love over and over again. You smiled up at him, tired but satisfied, and when you fell asleep your smile did not falter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Since that night you had shared, Kazuichi had been coming to your bed every night. You would fall asleep together and wake up together and talk until you couldn’t anymore. When you weren’t talking, you were either cuddling or doing something less… innocent. Your mouth had mapped out every inch of his body, and you knew what to do to make him open like a flower. He liked letting you do what you wanted to him – liked giving over the power and control and letting you make him feel good.

He loved it when you spoke to him in your mother tongue – no matter what you said he would squirm and turn bright red.

“Do you like it when I play with your pretty cock?” you asked him lowly, and he let out a sweet moan as his legs fell open. He could tell from the sound of your voice if you were being sweet to him or not, and you could tell based on the noises he made if he wanted you to be sweet or not.

You wondered what fantasies swept him away as you mounted him. When you pinned his wrists and mouthed at his neck, you wondered why he was mewling so much. Did he even know what he was begging you for anymore, or did his mind just go blank every time you began to kiss his scars?

You learned every embarrassing detail about his body, and he learned every detail of yours. He loved to have you on him – worshipping him, taking pleasure from his body – but what he loved most were the quiet moments after.

The moments when you would roll off of him and kiss him slowly and tell him how good he was. When you would worship every scar again, tell him he was beautiful. When he’d lay his head in your lap so you could weave your fingers into his hair and hum him lullabies. He always fell asleep in your bed after you made love. It was one of the most perfect moments you ever shared, and you felt so, so lucky to have shared so many of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today you woke up alone. Novoselic had finally sent an envoy to negotiate Kazuichi’s release. Today was the day.

Last night, he had helped you pick out your gown. He had chosen a white one with ruffles designed to look like flowers – Rusika was the kingdom of roses, after all – and as your handmaidens helped you get ready, you felt powerful.

You went all out – you wore your crown jewels and covered yourself in diamonds. You did not want there to be any doubt that they were dealing with a princess and would negotiate on her terms. Your father had been surprised when you had asked for this responsibility but granted you the negotiation opportunity.

Mukuro Ikusaba was wearing several chains, including a rather nasty-looking pair of handcuffs. She was positioned in a chair facing towards your throne, and she glared at you as you took your seat.

Kazuichi arrived only a few minutes after you, and his jaw just about hit the floor as he took you in. You gave him a smile befitting a queen as your eyes roamed his body – he was wearing a finely tailored suit and a ring with your family’s crest on it. You realized then you wanted to cover him in jewels. He would look so good sparkling.

He bowed deeply before taking his place at your side, breaking you from your train of thought. It was an old Novoselic tradition for the ruler’s consort to kneel on a special stool while the monarch conducted business, but while Kazuichi did kneel on the plush cushion, he tugged it towards you so he could lie across your lap. The action startled you at first, but as he snuggled deeper into your skirts and looked up at you with a smile, your fingers came up to weave into his hair in the way he found comforting, and he closed his eyes.

That lasted for a blissful minute before the throne room’s doors burst open and Princess Sonia Nevermind was announced. Her entourage filed in with her, and Souda tilted his head to get a better view of them. You recognized Gundham, and vaguely recalled hearing about a few of the others from Kazuichi. Classmates, if you remembered correctly.

Sonia had brought the Yakuza boy and the Ultimate Swordswoman as backup. She had also brought a hulking man with matching scars over both of his eyes. This man was someone you had never heard of, yet he was flanked by the usual Novoselic military honour guard. You greeted her in your shared tongue before switching to Japanese. “Welcome. What brings you all to Rusika?” you asked.

The princess of Novoselic cleared her throat and began once more in your mother tongue. “Apologies for interrupting, Princess Nevermind, but not everybody here speaks our language. I would like to include our guests in the matters we will be discussing,” Souda shifted in your lap, and you continued playing with his hair, sitting with the elegance of a queen.

Sonia began again, in Japanese this time. “I demand you release your prisoners at once,” she pointed at you. “Keeping a soldier hired by my country to retrieve a prisoner does not reflect well on the alliance between our peoples. I would hate for a war to break out.”

You sighed. “As a show of good faith, I will release the prisoner Mukuro Ikusaba to you,” you made a gesture and a pair of guards removed her shackles. You could feel Souda playing with your ruffles. “Was that all?”

“We are here for the prisoner Kazuichi Souda,” she answered. “I demand you release him.”

“Kazuichi is not a prisoner,” you corrected. “He has full autonomy and can choose to leave anytime he would like.”

“You kidnapped him as a political prisoner!” Sonia snapped, eyes locked on him. “Do not tell me that he is doing… that of his own free will!”

You gave his shoulder a pat with the hand that had been in his hair and he blinked over at Sonia. “I have done nothing malicious towards him,” you answered. “I have not-”

“Liar!” Sonia cut in. “You must have brainwashed him with Stockholm. You truly are a woman with flexible legs!”

Kazuichi raised his head a bit. “Don’t talk to my Princess like that!” there was a certain bite to his words. You ran your fingers soothingly through his hair as he glared at Sonia. “Gundham knows as well as I do that we were never mistreated here. We were given free reign, and I just so happened to be appreciated. I’m not a second choice here. I’m not forgotten.”

Sonia looked visibly upset at his words. “We did not forget you!” she assured him.

“You rescued Gundham after a month? A few weeks?” Kazuichi was bristling. “I’ve been here for eight. Eight months and you didn’t even bother to see if I was okay.” Sonia watched Kazuichi lie back down. “Excuse me for being happy. I forgot you don’t like it when I’m too overbearing with my affection.” He shifted around for comfort, burying his face in the crook of his elbow before tilting it out to the crowd.

“Is he truly able to leave anytime he wants?” Gundham asked.

“I am,” Kazuichi bristled once again. “I’ve got a job and everything.”

Sonia said your name. No title, just your name. “I would like to speak with you in private, future monarch to future monarch,” she was clenching her hands into fists.

“I’ll allow it,” you gave Kazuichi a gentle pat on the shoulder and he reluctantly pulled away. You stood, and he stood with you. He followed you down from your throne, and as you escorted Sonia towards your study you noticed Kazuichi was making a beeline for Gundham.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you were alone again, the first thing Kazuichi did was help you out of your dress. He was careful as he unlaced your corset, and as he helped you step out of it. He even hung it up properly so it wouldn’t get damaged. Then he was kissing you like he was about to lose you, pulling your body close and pulling you into his arms. He carried you over to the bed and tossed you into it, discarding his own clothes haphazardly as he followed.

“I love you,” he told you assuredly. “And nothing is ever going to change that. Not a single thing they say will convince me otherwise.”

You smiled at his words. “And I love you too, my little pink rose,” you gave him a deep, longing kiss.

It didn’t matter what the others thought or said. It didn’t matter what they did. All that mattered was what you and Souda thought. Souda was here with you. Souda loved you.

And no matter who decided to challenge that, they couldn’t take him away from you.

#danganronpa #super danganronpa 2 #kazuichi souda #kazuichi soda #kazuichi souda x reader #kazuichi soda x reader #kazuichi x reader #sonia nevermind #gundham tanaka #reader insert #princess reader #memeadonna

93 notes · View notes

stylesluxx · 4 years ago

Text

flustered – h.styles

[warnings: minor swearing, sexual talk but in a joking way (no smut), and maybe a little angst if you squint]

summary: in which harry gets flustered around y/n | famous!reader

word count: 2,251

masterlist

Being a popular singer and songwriter was something you always dreamed of. Since you were nine, you had a journal of songs that you planned to perform in front of a stadium of people. You already had your costume designs picked out in your head along with how you wanted your stage to look. Music was your life and even if you couldn't become a successful singer, you knew you still wanted to be in the music industry somehow.

But life turned out exactly how you wanted it to due to your hard work and dedication. You started by putting your music on SoundCloud, where you started to grow a fan base. You made music that so many people could relate to and you made people feel like they had a shoulder to cry on. Eventually, you were doing small concerts and interviews, just to get your name out there some more. And before you knew it, you were releasing your debut album and receiving award after award. From AMAs to Billboard, to iHeartRadio, you were on fire.

But you knew you were being heard worldwide when Harry Styles followed you back on Instagram. You had been following him ever since he was in One Direction, a group you held very dear to your heart. Once they went on hiatus, you kept up with Harry's music and watched him develop as an artist. And you'd never tell him this to his face, but you were a proud fan.

It was the day after the AMAs and you were laying on the couch in your living room, scrolling through your comments and thanking fans for giving the album a listen when you got the notification.

Your jaw dropped open as you shot up from the couch and let out a scream. Your left hand shot up to cover your mouth once you were done screaming.

"No fricking way!" You gasped and took a screenshot before sending it to the group chat with your two best friends.

y/n: gasp!

emily: no way

sarah: ugh now you can shoot your shot

y/n: ... no

You went back to Instagram once your phone buzzed once more, making your eyes widen.

harrystyles: Really enjoying the album! Much love. H

You had no idea what to do or what to even say. You were completely star-struck. Sure you've gotten compliments from other artists but you didn't admire them as much as you admired Harry.

You took a screenshot and switched back to the Messages app, sending the picture to your friends.

y/n: y'all...

sarah: yeah he definitely wants to eat your ass

y/n: sarah...

sarah: y/n...

emily: omg, marry him !!

y/n: what do I say????

sarah: uhhh thank you ???

emily: be chill but not too chill. grateful and kind but not desperate

You switched back to Instagram and stared at the message in front of you before sighing and typing.

y/n_y/l/n: thank you so much for the support! fine line and self-titled have been on repeat!!

"I can't believe that just happened," You mumbled to yourself and fell back on the couch, completely elated.

— It was seven months after the Instagram encounter and you and Harry haven't spoken since. You figured it was just an artist complimenting another artist's work and it meant very little to him. He probably already forgot it had happened but you thought about it constantly.

You were waiting for your order at a coffee shop in Los Angeles when you were bumped hard. The bump almost knocked you down but you were quickly caught by the culprit, his hand on the bottom of your back, pushing you back upright.

"I'm so sorry," He apologized and looked down at you.

"No worries," You shook your head and gave him a small smile.

"You're Y/N Y/L/N, I believe I dm'd you a few months back. H-how are you?" He asked, taking you by surprise.

You had already turned away but this man recognizing you made you face him once again. You looked at his face (which was hard to see since he was wearing a hat that sheltered his face).

"Oh, Harry!" You smiled cheerily. "It's wonderful you meet you in person. I'm well, and you?"

"I-I'm great," He nodded eagerly and you took the moment to take in his face.

His green eyes pierced into your Y/E/C eyes before quickly looking away, looking anywhere but at you. And his cheeks were bright pink as if he'd been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing.

"That's good, the BRITs are coming up-"

"I-I actually have to go," He interrupts you.

"O-oh okay. Sorry for holding you up," You nodded and plaster on a fake smile as he nods and walks off.

You bit your lip and scrunched your eyebrows, internally screaming at yourself. That was so awkward and cringe and you just wanted to forget all about your coffee and run home. Your legs wanted to run to your car, hop in, speed all the way home, and just jump under the covers and forget you even existed. But the BRITs were coming up and you had to be on a plane later.

—

Walking down the red carpet was something you'd never get used to. That and paparazzi. You didn't like the bright lights and people yelling at you, telling you what to do. But you did love showing off your outfits.

You were wearing a strapless black gown that showed off the perfect amount of cleavage, and diamonds that decorated your ears and wrist. You were feeling confident and beautiful and your last encounter with Harry was pushed to the very back of your mind until you arrived at your seat.

Harry was already sitting in his spot at the table. He was wearing a light blue button-up that was covered by a purple wool cardigan but that too was topped off with his brown suit. He looked very handsome and now you were worried that maybe what you were wearing was quite basic.

But you didn't have time to turn around and run away, because he had spotted you and was pulling at his collar nervously. You gave him a soft smile and seated yourself, rubbing your sweaty palms in your dress.

"Hello, nice to you see you again," You greeted him.

Your heart was racing erratically and you were pleading to yourself not to fuck this up.

"The pleasure is all mine," He smiled and you felt the heat rise to your face. You figured it was the same heat that was adorning Harry's face also.

The conversation quickly ceased and you internally sighed, ready to tell your group chat what a failure you were. But you were back to being smiley and happy when a cameraman came over and asked for a picture of the two of you. Harry wrapped an arm around your waist and you leaned into his side with a big cheesy smile.

The show started and a producer came over to Harry mid-show, telling him he should get ready for his performance. He nodded, stood up, and pushed his seat in.

"Good luck," You bid him before he could walk away.

He beamed at you and nodded in appreciation before walking off to follow the producer backstage.

He came on stage in a completely different outfit. A white lacy button-up with matching trousers covered his body and was complemented with a pair of matching gloves.

You enjoyed the performance, especially the water on the stage, and you made sure you told him once he got back to the table. Now he was wearing a bright yellow suit and a purple shirt, completely hard to miss.

"Your performance was lovely," You told him once he sat down. "I liked the water bit."

"Thank you. You're up next, correct?" He asked and took a sip of his water that was untouched until now.

"Yeah, just a bit nervous," You admitted and gulped anxiously while standing up.

"Break a leg. Well, not actually. Do people even say that anymore-"

"It's okay, I get it," You giggled at his flustered demeanor. He was completely red and was playing with the rings on his fingers. "Thank you, Harry."

Your performance went swimmingly and soon you were back at your seat, anxious for the award you were nominated for.

Apparently, it was noticeable how nervous you were because Harry hesitantly reached over and rested a hand on yours.

"If they don't think you're the best International Solo Female Artist, then screw 'em. I think you're the best," He assured you, making your nerves cease.

"Thank you. You're truly a delight, which I'm sure you've been told."

Before he could respond, your name had been called, making you face the stage with wide eyes. He rubbed your hand before pulling back and clapping along with the rest of the crowd.

You told from your seat and walked over the stage, not quite sure how you got there because everything seemed like a daze. But it became real when the award was placed in your hand and you had to give your speech.

"I am... in awe, truly. I am so happy and grateful. This album was absolutely life-changing for me and I hope it was for those who gave it a listen. I really cannot believe I'm here right now. Thank you so much to everyone who's been supporting me. I would like to thank my family and my team for all their love and support. And before I go, I'd like to thank Harry Styles who actually has been a huge inspiration of mine and he's so sweet and was literally just soothing my nerves. This night has been so great and this award was the icing on the cake. Thank you so much and goodnight."

You watched Harry's face turn bright as he smiled up at you and turned red for the thousandth time since you've met him.

You walked backstage and let out a sigh of relief once you got away from all the cameras. It wasn't as nerve-racking as you thought it would be but maybe it was because Harry gave you a pep talk before your speech.

You were pulled for pictures before they finally let you go but the show was over by then.

—

You were far too exhausted to be at the after-party but you already sent in an RSVP. You were wearing black leather pants with a matching halter crop top and basic black heels.

You usually attended parties with Sarah and Emily but they were back in L.A. working their regular jobs so they couldn't come. You quickly became aware that you didn't know anyone here you were you disappointed you didn't drag your manager along.

You were seated at the bar sipping on a Shirley Temple and bobbing your head to the music when you were tapped on the shoulder. You turned around with a smile on your face, ready to befriend whoever, but your smile only grew more when you saw the man in front of you.

"Harry!" You cheered and pulled him into a hug. "You don't know how happy I am to see you. I don't know anyone here and it'd be rude for me to leave not even an hour in."

"I'm happy I found you. I only came because I knew you'd be here. Kinda just wanna listen to Stevie Wonder for the rest of the night," He spoke honestly and his eyes showed vulnerability.

For once he was red but you could tell he was putting himself out there. He wasn't dressed up in a fancy outfit; some loose jeans, a striped red and white t-shirt, and all-white vans.

"That sounds lovely!" You agreed. You turned around and took one last sip of your drink before facing him once again and hopping off the barstool. "Shall we?"

Harry's apartment is almost exactly how you expected it to be. It was organized and clean, everything about it seemed untouched and perfect but it still had a homey feeling to it. It still invited you in and asked you to stay awhile. It was so welcoming, you forgot about how you and Harry going home together was going to be plastered all over the blogs.

"This is really nice," You expressed as you looked at the little aloe plant on his coffee table.

"Oh thanks, my mum got it for me. Thought it'd teach me some responsibility and it hasn't died yet so," He spoke with humor and let out a soft chuckle at the end.

You grinned and watched as he walked over to his record player, an old brown wooden one from the 90s. He took am album from his shelf where it looked like he had been collecting all his life and took the record from the sleeve. He gently placed it down and set the needle on the record, smiling as “Never Dreamed You'd Leave In Summer” floated gracefully throughout the room.

"This is one of my favorite songs," You hummed as you listened.

Harry slowly walks over to you, hesitantly placing his hands on your waist and you wrapped yours around his neck. You both swayed back and forth in each other's arms as the song played uninterrupted throughout the living room. You rested your head on Harry's chest, mixing the song and his heartbeat together, growing even calmer at your serene surroundings.

"Better than any party."

#Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #stylesluxx #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagines #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb

710 notes · View notes