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lemonadecandy · 2 years ago

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Meeting Zhongli [Part 6]

Game: Genshin Impact

About: Zhongli x fem!reader

Note 1: The premise is that 'you' get transported into the game and journey through Teyvat along with the traveler. This is a reinterpretation of the Liyue Archon Quests. Hope you enjoy~

Note 2: Please do not copy, translate, repost, etc., any part or the entirety of my works.

Words: ~2.5k

Warning: This chapter contains some graphic violence and profanity.

A cold wind rushed into the cave as the rain kept pouring relentlessly. The fire had died down long ago and now the logs were too wet to be rekindled. My body was shivering uncontrollably under the thin leaf covers that barely provided any warmth. I slowly cranked my head to the side to look at the cave’s wall. Cutting my finger on the sharp tip of the wooden branch I held, I marked another line on the wall with the blood that flowed. 27. It had been twenty-seven days since I had been stranded in this strange place, perhaps, even more, I may have been unconscious through a few.

It was a very beautiful place, with a clear sunny beach on one side and lush green pastorals on the other. It looked like scenery straight out of a Van Gogh painting. But my marvel for it only lasted for a short while. I didn’t dare to move beyond a few meters from the area I had gained consciousness at, otherwise strange blob-like creatures would attack. With much difficulty, I had taken a few out, but they only kept coming and I was ultimately forced to run. The only source of food in the small safe zone were the few fruit trees and berries that were scarcely spread. They were unlike any fruits I had seen but they tasted nice and sweet. That time, the only issue I had was water, a mighty ocean stretched out in front of me, but it was all salt water, and just as my throat had started shriveling from thirst, it had started to rain. Unfortunately, it hasn’t stopped pouring yet, in fact, the storm keeps getting stronger. I have already eaten all the fruits and berries I could find and though water is plenty now, I no longer have any food to eat. How long can a human even survive without food?

My head had already gotten foggy, it was harder to stay conscious, but I was too afraid to fall asleep, for that might just be the last time I ever close my eyes. How did I even get here? The last thing I remember is staring at a computer screen as I had finished some sort of video game, it had been a euphoric feeling that culminated after years of following a very interesting story. I contemplated all of this being a mere delusion, but the pain as my organs shut down felt too strong. My leg was still out of commission from trying to fight those blob-like creatures. The impending death felt real as well. What in the world is this situation?! The terror and madness had already swallowed my mind, I could barely even think anymore.

Suddenly, I heard a rustling at the entrance of the cave. I had grown accustomed to all the sounds that nature made as I had waited the rain out in this small cave. That, wasn’t the mere rustling of leaves as water gushed over it. Did the slimes make it all the way here?! I quickly stood up in fear, a shock jerked my legs as I mustered all the strength I had. My vision was cloudy, so it was hard to determine what stood at the cave entrance, but it seemed like a human silhouette. A wave of relief rushed over me. There are humans here! Was I going to be saved?!

I hurriedly limped towards the figure, almost crawling. “Help! Help!”, my voice croaked because it hadn’t been used in so long. But I kept shouting like a mad dog. I had almost reached the person who stood at the entrance, but instead of heavenly aid, what I received was a blow to my face.

I had been struck by what seemed like a wooden club. Pain flowed through the entire right side of my face, my lower jaw threatening to fall off. Blood gushed into my mouth in unimaginable amounts, the metallic taste overwhelming my mouth. The figure was approaching, readying for another hit. I crawled away in the nick of time, as the assaulter just missed my head and struck my back instead. The stick! I didn’t stop to even process the pain and rushed toward the sharp stick that lay next to the fire pit. The attacker seemed to have slowed down as I quickly dashed away from them.

The stick had been a thick branch of wood I had found while scavenging for berries, it had helped me fight the blobs. It wasn’t a very effective weapon, but it was my only chance at survival.

Grabbing the weapon I turned to face the assaulter. My vision was still unclear but adrenaline was pumping through my body, giving it strength despite the starvation. The assaulter didn’t have a lot of height but they seemed bulky. Well, the force of that blow to my face had been very strong. “I don’t mean any harm, let’s try to talk this out!”, I yelled trying to reason with them. But all I received was some gibberish. They don’t understand me!

Before I could say anything else, the attacker directly ran towards me, their wooden club raised. My mind started spiraling in panic. I didn’t know what to do. Do I just dodge? But for how long could I keep doing that? Do I attack? But they are human! No. I had to forsake my morals right now. ‘Kill or be killed.’ That’s what they say right?

Despite my thoughts, my humanity still shone through as I reflexively dodged instead of attacking the assailant. But, I never was skilled in agility. Before I could fully dodge them, I had already been struck on my left shoulder blade. The force cut through the muscle, opening another wound for more of my blood to pour out of. The adrenaline was starting to fade away too and the pain was multiplied by the starved state of my body. I collapsed in agony, writhing on the ground. My heart rate skyrocketed in shock and I loudly gasped for air. It was unbearable! I had never experienced an injury more severe than a bruise in my entire life. This was too much for me to handle. I loudly screeched in torment, trying to drown out my senses with the sounds. Fuck morals! Why did I fucking dodge?!

The assailant had stopped attacking and was now leaning down towards me probably trying to assess my condition. They seemed to have lowered their guard as their neck and shoulders were entirely open for possible attacks. This was my opportunity.

As I contemplated my course of action, a twisted thought ran through my head. Kill or be killed.

I clenched tightly at the stick that was still in my hand, and just as the attacker tried to retreat, I pierced their throat with all the strength I could muster. It was hard, I didn’t have close to enough strength. I felt every fiber in the muscles of their neck snap as I pushed the stick in even further. I pulled it back out as dark crimson blood was rushing out, splattering onto my face. The attacker fell back and tried to rush out of the cave. My body had been taken over by an unfamiliar intensity and my mind had stopped functioning. I crawled out into the rain and toward them, grabbing their leg to hold them back.

The clouds were still thundering and the rain still didn’t show any signs of slowing down. The attacker had started shrieking themselves, shouting in whatever sound they could muster from their injured throat. I pulled them back and quickly pinned them to the ground with my legs. Raising the stick, I stabbed them again. And again. Blood kept rushing out and coloring my hands as the creature in front of me slowly stopped struggling. As the flare of survival instincts slowly died down, my mind was starting to become sane again. I yelled as tears flowed down my face at the realization of what I had just done, hands shaking as I still couldn’t stop myself from stabbing. “Kill or be killed.”, repeating the quote over and over again. I could have just severely injured their shoulder, or let them escape while they were trying to run away but I instead chose to murder what seemed like a human. I rolled off the assailant and lay down on the ground as the rain drowned my screams of sorrow.

“Y/n!”

“Y/n, wake up!”, someone was calling out to me. I immediately opened my eyes and shot up into a sitting position.

“Y/n!”, it was Lumine. She was seated next to me on the bed, holding me by my shoulders. “Are you alright?!”

I looked around trying to regain my bearings. My heart was racing at the speed of light and I was sweating buckets. That dream.

“Y/n!”, Lumine called out to me once again.

“Huh?”, I tried to break myself out of my daze as I panted for air.

“Did something happen last night?!”, she asked, worry sketching her tone.

“Last night…?”, I raised my hand to my head trying to recall my memories.

“I am so sorry! I should not have left you all alone. I know how scared you get when that happens, but you looked so sprung up around Mr. Zhongli. He is a good man, so I thought it would be a good idea for you to loosen up around him since we’ll be spending quite some time together.”, she rambled. “Was I wrong? Did he do something to you?!”

“W-wait, no, relax!”, I said trying to get my breathing in control.

“But you are literally shaking!”, she exclaimed.

It was true, I just couldn’t stop my body from jittering in fear. That dream, no, those memories, why had they popped into my mind again? When I revisited that cave later, I couldn’t find any corpse around. But, it had really happened, the scars on my shoulder and back were proof of that, it wasn’t a hallucination caused by starvation. Looking back, that assailant could have been a mere hilichurl who had wandered into the cave while looking for shelter, but the body had been washed away by the rain, so there was no way to check. But a hilichurl was once a human too. Unable to find the courage to explain my experiences before I met the traveler, I only rested my head on her shoulder without saying anything. I thought I had long gotten over that trauma, but I suppose it isn’t that easy.

“If you want, we can just tell Mr. Zhongli and Childe that we can’t help them anymore. There must be other ways to get to the geo archon—“, she tried to reassure me as she loosely embraced me.

“No!”, I immediately cut in. “I-It isn’t because of Zhongli. Everything went well yesterday! He’s a swell guy! I was just missing home that’s all~”

Lumine gave me a skeptical glance, “If you say so.” She grabbed my hand as she continued, “Don’t worry! We’ll definitely find my brother and get you home soon!”

I looked at her with a smile on my face. Just like the interpretation in the game, the traveler didn’t talk a lot, especially when it wasn’t necessary. But when it mattered most, she was the first one to ramble on. I found that part of her quiet endearing. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

“Again, about yesterday… it’s just that I thought you deserved a fun night out without the two of us bothering you… You even came in late last night, so I thought you enjoyed yourself.”, she looked away in embarrassment. My feelings of gratitude soon evaporated as I remembered how I had been abandoned mercilessly last night.

I chuckled, “Of course, I enjoyed myself a lot.”

“Really?”, innocent curiosity in her eyes.

“Uh-huh. Precisely why I want to share this enjoyment with you!”, a sly smile spread on my face.

“What do you mean?” I motioned for her to get up from my bed as I slowly guided her toward the door.

“One week. You cover all my expenses for one week.”, I nudged her over the threshold as realization slowly dawned on her face.

“But y/n—!”, I shut the door before she could complete her sentence.

“Don’t worry darling, it’s just some petty payback. I promise I’ll be frugal.”, I shouted from inside.

“Y/n! Are you serious?!”, she slammed her hands on the door.

“Quick! Save me a seat at the restaurant, I need to get ready.”

Lumine only helplessly kept banging at the door as I callously laughed at her misery.

»»-----------------------------------------------------------------------►

My nose felt stuffy, and my eyes were swollen. The after-effects of crying always left me feeling numb, even the next day. The headache from the hangover didn’t help much either. We had parted ways soon after my outburst last night. I was too glum to realize this yesterday, but I have really embarrassed myself in front of him, haven’t I? He must think of me as some poor lost child, not that it’s entirely inaccurate. Besides, him thinking of me as a lamentable youngster is much safer than him considering me a threat. But still, this is hurting my pride.

Lumine was pouty because of my attempt at revenge in the morning, but Paimon on the other hand was being overly sweet to me. Probably because she intended to freeload off the traveler along with me. I leaned towards her slinging my around her shoulder, “Come on, cheer up! We’re going flower picking today.”

But I was only ignored as she looked away. “Now you are making me feel all guilty.”

“Would that make you reconsider?”, she looked back at me with doe eyes.

“No.”, I giggled.

Our conversation came to stop when we noticed Zhongli waiting for us at the center of Yujing Terrace. “Mr. Zhongli!”, Paimon called out as we neared him.

He waved back at us with a smile on his face, “You’re here.” Glancing towards me he spoke, “Y/n, you seem to have recovered well.”

“Ahaha, yes, you too.”, I laughed awkwardly, unable to make eye contact. Did all of my character development just get deleted?!

But before I could wallow in my embarrassment too much, Zhongli stepped towards me grabbing my hand to place a vial in it, causing me to look up at him in confusion. “It’s some medicine for a hangover.”

The warmth from last night was still present in his eyes. To be honest, ever since I had woken up, I was kind of wishing that he had forgotten about last night, but seeing that kindliness in his expressions made me glad that he didn’t.

“Thank you.”, I smiled back at him with gratitude. I wondered if it was because of this intensity of his that seemed to ignore all of my walls, I had slowly started lowering my guard. Was he the reason I had that dream about the past that I had tried my best not to confront?

Strange feelings had started blooming in my heart.

P.S: I was looking for some Zhongli fanart for the banners on Pinterest but all I could find was some spicy Ayato content, and now I really wanna write a fic for him just so I can use all the pins I have saved. Any ideas?~~

Banner image art by: Unable to find. If anyone knows, please inform.

Part 7:

#zhongli #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin zhongli #genshin headcanons #reader insert #x reader #zhongli scenarios #zhongli x y/n #female reader #genshin angst #genshin fanfic #lemonadecandy #meeting zhongli

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babycharmander · 4 years ago

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If you think you have never stolen artwork, read this post.

So, art theft. If you've been a follower of mine, you've heard my barely-coherent rants about this before, but I thought it might be more productive to make a more coherent post on the subject.

If you're wondering about the title of the post here, it's because I feel like a lot of people aren't really grasping what exactly art theft is, and a LOT of people, even well-meaning ones, do it without even realizing it.

"But wait," you say. "I would never STEAL from an artist!! I never claim it as my own!" And that's all fine and good, but you're missing something here.

To start things off, what IS art theft? (It's not what deviantART said it was several years back, I'll tell you that much. *cough*)

We all know what art is, so let's talk about theft. Dictionary.com defines "theft" as "the act of stealing; the wrongful taking and carrying away of the personal goods or property of another; larceny." Okay, makes sense, but what about that other word there, stealing? Dictionary.com defines "steal" as "to take (the property of another or others) without permission or right, especially secretly or by force."

From those definitions, we can go on to define art theft as, specifically, "taking art without permission or right." In the context of art, that typically involves reposting it (not reblogging--reblogging is different) or using it for other things.

And there, my friends, is the issue.

If something is taken or used without permission, it is stolen. Permission is the important thing here--if an artist says "oh yeah, you can go ahead and use this!" then it's not stolen. You have their permission. But if you DON'T have that, then it IS stolen. It IS theft.

"But I'm not claiming it as my own!" you say. But you don't have to claim it as your own--the act of taking it in and of itself is an act of theft.

"But I said 'credit to the artist!'" The "credit" thing is a whole other conversation, but here's the short of it: The entire point of credit is to direct people to the source of something. If you are not directly linking to where you got the art from, you are not giving credit. "Credit to the artist" is not actually credit of any kind whatsoever. (Also, Google and Pinterest are not sources.)

"But I DID link back to the artist!" Okay, now this is where it may get confusing, because you may think you're covered because you actually did give credit. Here's the problem: if you reposted it or used it without permission, regardless of whether you gave credit or not, it's still stealing.

I'm bolding this because it's a point that a lot of people get tripped up on. Let me explain it this way: If you went into your neighbor's house and took something of theirs without their permission, but you told people "oh yeah, I got this from [neighbor]'s house!" that that would still, of course, be stealing, and it's no different for art.

Another thing is that even when you credit, people don't always check the source. Very recently I found a case where someone had reposted a piece of artwork of mine to Pinterest that was deliberately made to look like it came from the source material (it wasn't meant to confuse anyone, though--the description of my original post made it very clear that it was fanart). The person who reposted had linked back to my original post. The problem? The comments had people asking if this was official, where it happened in the source material, etc. Despite the fact that the source was right there, no one thought to look at it.

Even if you link back to the source, if you did it without the artist's permission, it's still stealing, and still causes problems for us artists.

"But I just posted it to my Pinterest--" DO NOT DO THIS. DO NOT POST AN ARTIST'S WORK TO PINTEREST IF YOU DO NOT HAVE THEIR EXPLICIT PERMISSION TO DO SO.

"But this artist friend of mine says they're okay if I post their work to my Pinterest so long as I link back to them!" Good for your friend! But the fact that your friend is okay with it doesn't mean that all artists are okay with it. For me, personally, I am very not okay with my work being posted to Pinterest, and say as much on my art blog description and posts (which people tend to ignore).

The problem with Pinterest--and reposting art in general--is that we artists don't know when it happens unless we're told, or unless we find it ourselves. It causes us to lose control of our art. And because of this, our art can spiral further out of our control, because when our works get posted to Pinterest or other similar websites, people who have no grasp whatsoever on how art works will just take it as "free art" and then use it for whatever they want.

That's how a piece I spent 20+ hours on was used as a poster for a paid event, without my permission, and without any payment or credit to me.

If an artist has said nothing about Pinterest (or other similar image sharing sites), your default should be to assume that they don't want their artwork posted there.

"Well I didn't repost someone's art, but I did use it for my avatar/RPing icon/video/fic cover/photo edit--" That's still stealing. If you're using it without their permission for any reason, that is stealing. Not to mention, the artist may not be cool with what you're using their art for anyway. (Looking at you, people who use platonic art in your shipping videos.)

“I MEANT to ask them for permission, but I forgot!” This can ONLY happen if you used the artwork BEFORE you asked for permission. You can resolve this by asking for permission BEFORE you use it, rather than assuming the answer will be “yes” and using it before asking.

"But it took me a really long time to make that icon/video/cover/edit!!" How long do you think it took the original artist to draw their piece? It doesn't matter how much work you put into modifying someone else's art--if you're doing it without their permission, you're still stealing.

"But I couldn't find the original artist! I tried to find them, I really did, but I couldn't. Is it okay to use their art then?" No, because you still don't have permission, and by reposting it anyway, you’re continuing to make the artwork spiral out of their control.

"What if I found the artist, but they speak a different language from mine? I can't ask them for permission, so is it okay if I repost their art anyway?" NO!! DO NOT DO THIS!! If there is a language barrier, use Google translate or find someone to translate for you and get a hold of the artist that way to ask them for their permission. The language barrier is NEVER an excuse to steal artwork. There are plenty of non-English-speaking artists who have taken ALL OF THEIR ARTWORK OFFLINE because the art theft was completely out of control. (And this isn't just exclusive to English-speakers stealing art from people who don't speak their language. It happens artists who don't speak English stealing art from English-speakers, too, but as this post is written in English it doesn't do much good for me to rant about this here.) If you can’t ask their permission, do not use it!!

"But what about reblogging?! Isn't that the same as reposting?? Should we not reblog art at all then?" No, reblogging (or retweeting) is not the same as reposting. If you reblog art, you keep all the information that we attached to the art, including our blog name and the description attached to the art. Reblogging/retweeting actually helps us artists A LOT, so as long as you're reblogging from the original artist (and not someone who's reposting their art), by all means, reblog our art!

"What if I just want to share someone else's artwork on Discord or show it to a friend?" This one's a bit different and is not actually as problematic. If you want to share our work on Discord or whatever, just link directly to where we posted it. Please don't post the art itself, unless you're doing it alongside a link because Discord won't show a preview or something.

"What about a forum or a site like Reddit?" This one's a bit different, since due to the way Reddit functions, if you LINK to the art, you have to go directly to the artist's original page to view it. (At least, that’s what it’s like the last time I was active there.) In a way it's roughly the same as with Discord--be sure you're linking directly to the actual post rather than just uploading the art on its own--but I would also ask the artist if they're okay with it, because they may be a member of the subreddit or forum and want to post it themselves, or they might not want their work shared to specific communities. (Some communities have a function where a bot will repost the artwork to Imgur, and some artists don't want that done with their art.)

"What if I'm saving it to my computer/phone to look at later, or making it into my desktop/phone wallpaper?" IMO this is fine, since your computer/phone files aren't public, and neither is your wallpaper. It's only a problem when you post it to public places without our permission.

"What if it's art I commissioned?" Well... like... in that case, it's art you paid for, so unless the artist you commissioned laid out very specific terms for you, you should be good to use that art. Like, at most, the artist may ask you to credit them somewhere in your blog description if they drew your icon or something, or credit them in a fic description if you commissioned a fic illustration from them, or something to that effect. It's really something you should have already worked out with the artist beforehand, but for the most part you should probably be fine to use art you paid for however you like.

"What about art I requested?" This is a bit different from commissioned work. Just because the art was drawn at your request doesn't mean it's explicitly yours (unless it's like, a drawing of your original character or something). Some artists take requests more as suggestions, so the art they draw in response to a suggestion or request is still theirs. Treat this as you would any other artwork and ask the artist for permission first before you do anything with the artwork you requested from them.

“What about NFTs?” ... Okay this one I can’t really go over too much because I barely understand it in the first place, but NFTs are BAD for artists and are a form of art theft. Do not turn people’s art into NFTs. This is a crappy thing to do. (If you want more information on this one, you’ll have to look it up yourself. It’s a form of cryptocurrency and it’s confusing.)

“If you don’t want your art stolen you shouldn’t post it in the first place.” This is fascinating logic. Try applying it to something else and see how it holds up. “If you don’t want your merchandise stolen, you shouldn’t open a booth.” “If you don’t want to get poisoned you shouldn’t eat food.” “If you don’t want to get punched in the face, don’t walk outside.” Yes. Flawless logic. Truly.

"Why do you care so much, anyway?! I'm sharing your art because I like it! That's a compliment! Shouldn't you be happy?" Well, we're certainly glad you like our art, but the problem is... as I've said before, reposting our art causes us to lose our control over it. When we lose control of our art, that damages our livelihood. As I said before, other people have made money off of my artwork. As well, some artists lose jobs because when their potential employers check out their portfolio, they may find artwork that's been reposted everywhere online, so they cannot hire the artist because they believe they may have stolen the artwork in their own portfolio.

Your reposting an image you thought was cute to Facebook or Pinterest could cost an artist their job. Think about that.

So, tl;dr, keep this in mind: you need the artist's permission to repost or use their artwork. If you do not have it, it is stealing, even if you credit the artist.

I know this post is really harsh in places, but this is such an important thing for all artists, and there's so many misconceptions about art theft online. And I feel like one of the biggest problems is that when some people see posts on art theft, they ignore them, because they think they've never done it or would never do it, so that's why I worded this post the way I did. I'm not trying to hurt anyone--I just want people to understand what art theft is, how it affects us artists, and how you can avoid it. Thank you for reading.

#long post #psa #drawing #art theft

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simp-minion · 4 years ago

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To Make Your Acquaintance 1/2

Prompt: Unsurprised by voice

Pairing: Corpse Husband X Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Even though you’ve both played with the same group in Among Us for some time, you’ve never actually met - Y/N nearly always playing as a fill when Corpse has to leave early. When they finally get to meet and play together, it doesn’t go the way everyone thought it would...

A/N: I do not consent to this being reposted anywhere by anyone else. I am also new to writing imagines in this way so, if it’s not quite right, please bare with any and all mistakes this may contain.

I’ve tried to make this as gender neutral as possible, but I’m not immune to making a mistake here or there since this is a new style of writing for me. If there is something wrong then please tell me so that I can fix it ASAP.

I hope you enjoy!

Edit: Part 2 has now been posted here!

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You hum to yourself as you wait for the game to load up, Discord already up and running although you have yet to actually enter the call with the others. You know that some of the group are probably going to be streaming so you make sure your headset is still set up properly, the mic picking up your voice without any echoes or glitches, just so the audio from your end isn’t going to cause any issues for them.

You’re not a streamer, just someone who built up a friendship with Valkyrae from her early streaming days and sometimes play games with her and her friends when they need another player and can’t get another big name. You’re somewhat known to her followers but, like a lot of YouTubers are doing now, you’ve remained faceless for your own privacy and Rae has been extremely supportive of your decision to do so. When it comes to your experience of Among Us with this group, it’s pretty vast since you’ve played quite a few games with them as a fill when someone has to leave early - more recently as the fill-in for when Corpse Husband wraps up his stream earlier than others are ready to end theirs.

You input the code you were sent by Rae once the game is fully loaded, entering the Discord call and game lobby at relatively the same time. You’re bombarded by a cacophony of voices, prompting you to turn the volume down a little, before you hear your friend acknowledge that you’ve arrived.

"Y/N, you made it!" Her voice talks over all the others, getting them to get quieter as they begin to pay attention to your conversation. "Do you need a moment or are you good to go?"

"Hey, I think I'm good to go… unless you guys are planning on playing on playing for more than an hour?" You bite your lip, waiting for an answer from someone in the group, checking the time.

"Well, I think we were planning on playing for another hour and a half, maybe push it to two hours if people are still up for it then." Toast replies before Rae can get a word out.

You nod to yourself. "Okay, I'll just grab a snack in case, and a drink, but I think it'll be okay on my end."

You briefly go AFK to grab the snack and drink, placing them in arm's reach if you need them while playing, before repositioning your headset on your head. "Okay, I'm back and ready to play."

"Is everyone back now?" Rae asks, apparently the player in control of the lobby.

For the first time, you actually look at all the other players in the lobby to find out who's still playing and who you might have replaced. You see the expected players - Toast, Sykkuno, Jack, Charlie, Poki, Rae (obviously), Ludwig, Leslie - before your eyes fall on your own character and the last player in the lobby, who you're surprised to see still here as he moves his character around Sykkuno's.

"Yeah, I was the last one to come back." Poki answers.

"Oh, Corpse is still here." You say out loud, moving your avatar around his character before circling around others nearby.

"Oh yeah, I forgot that you've never officially met Corpse." Rae laughs.

"Wait, really?" Sykkuno asks.

"Yeah, I'm usually the fill that takes his place when he leaves so… this is my first time properly meeting and playing with Corpse." You inform them, before addressing the aforementioned man. "So - Hi Corpse, I'm Y/N. It's nice to finally meet you."

You hear his huff of amusement before he moves his character to circle yours as he answers you. "Hey. Good to properly meet you too."

The rest of the group go quiet, obviously waiting for something. You frown, moving around to see if your computer crashed or something. "Umm, guys?"

"They're waiting." Corpse laughs, moving around you again as you sigh in relief that it wasn't a computer issue.

"What for?" You think you know, having heard all about and seen videos online of the moment people hear Corpse for the first time, but you choose to play dumb because you know that the others are probably dying to get a reaction out of you. "For the game to start? Because I don't have the button to do that."

Your response makes Corpse laugh, as Rae breaks her silence with a frustrated noise.

"Seriously? Nothing?? No reaction at all???" She groans in frustration.

"Wait, was I supposed to pretend to freak out at his voice?" You bite back a smile. "Is it for a video or something? Wow, you should have told me beforehand. Sorry, Rae. We can go again if you want and I'll pretend to be surprised by it this time."

You can tell Corpse has moved away from his mic but you can still hear him dying of laughter on his end. Rae, however, just makes another frustrated noise before finally pressing the button to begin the countdown for the game to start.

You smile to yourself as you get ready to play, the others doing the same as you hear Corpse trying to compose himself enough to play. At least you made him laugh.

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kpopfanfictrash · 4 years ago

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Mind in the Gutter: Drabble

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jungkook

Word Count: 1,447

Rating: PG-13

Summary: An accompanying drabble to Mind in the Gutter. This drabble takes place during the events of MITG and is Jungkook’s POV during the infamous Skype chat Rhea has with Y/N.

[ PART OF MY JUNGKOOK BIRTHDAY DRABBLE GAME ]

Lounged in his seat, Jungkook rummaged in his snack bag for the final corner chip. He’d made the unfortunate mistake of eating lunch early, and if there was one thing Jungkook knew for certain, it was that he needed to eat at regular intervals.

Clicking open on the latest IT ticket he’d been assigned, Jungkook read through the request. Rhea Owens, from HR, was having difficulty with her Outlook – each time she updated a meeting, it didn’t sync to anyone’s calendar.

Sighing under his breath, Jungkook leaned forward and brushed his crumbs over the trash. Rhea was nice, if a bit loud and overly intrusive regarding his personal life. She’d been trying to set Jungkook up for years with little success. Jungkook had actually gone on a few blind dates on her recommendation, but every single one had crashed and burned. All people wanted to talk about was themselves, or worse, some actually wanted to talk about Jungkook.

Whenever he told people about his job, their eyes instantly glazed over. It got even worse when he mentioned his hobbies – most people equated bowling to the lowest tier of sports; only acceptable when one couldn’t do anything else. For this reason, Jungkook preferred to talk about himself as little as possible.

People often said he was quiet, but Jungkook didn’t see it that way. It was just that people rarely listened whenever he did speak.

Opening the ticket up on his screen, Jungkook read Rhea’s request from top to bottom. It should be fairly easy to solve, although he’d need to navigate around her computer in order to check her settings. Throwing his snack in the trash, Jungkook sent Rhea a ping.

INTER-OFFICE SKPE MESSAGE [1:05 PM]

Jeon, Jungkook: Hi, Rhea! I received your IT ticket and am free to assist whenever you have a second. Do you have time now?

Rhea answered almost immediately.

Owens, Rhea: JK!! For you? I have 1,000 minutes

Owens, Rhea: not really, though

Owens, Rhea: I actually have a 1:30 meeting – is that enough time?

Shaking his head, Jungkook typed back.

Jeon, Jungkook: That’s more than enough lol. I do need to take control of your computer, though – is that alright? I’d recommend closing any confidential information before I do.

Rhea agreed and, after a minute, pinged Jungkook so he could proceed. Rhea shared her screen and Jungkook clicked navigate at the top of the window. A quick scan of her Outlook showed everything to be in order. Jungkook frowned, puzzled.

Jeon, Jungkook: Your settings are right… let me check with my manager. He mentioned something in our huddle about a new update causing issues. Be right back!

Owens, Rhea: Okay, sure! Take your time

Jungkook stood and called to his boss over the top of his cubicle. He suggested a fix Jungkook hadn’t considered and he sat back down, ready to relay the information, only to freeze.

Your name blinked at Jungkook from Rhea’s computer. More than that – you seemed to be talking about him to Rhea, an idea which seemed so incomprehensible, it made his heart stop.

Y/L/N, Y/N: I have a giant ass crush on Jeon Jungkook

Jungkook continued to stare at the impossibility before his mind forced him to read the rest of your conversation. Maybe there were context clues to better understand. Obviously, you couldn’t mean him. Maybe there was another Jeon Jungkook at the company. Maybe you knew another meaning to the word crush. He continued to reach for other explanations, each one slipping through his fingers like water.

Rhea attempted to stop your confession – albeit, not very well. She probably thought Jungkook was still away from the computer. Or maybe not, and she was interfering again. Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to care.

He knew he should stop you, knew he should interject and let Rhea know he could see, but he just kept reading your words on the screen. You thought he was perfect, even called him gorgeous. You thought he was sweet, cute and funny and Jungkook’s vision began to blur, hardly daring believe someone felt that way about him.

You were the one who was all those things, not him. You were the perfect one, the one who’d sat beside him in a bar and actually made him want to remove his façade. You even went to his bowling meet, for fuck’s sake, having the audacity to seem interested when he talked.

Jungkook had harbored a crush on you for weeks, but never imagined you might like him back. Silly, he supposed, reading through your list of reasons. He winced when you told Rhea about that time he shot banana milk from his nose – but then, impossibly, you noted how cute it was. Jungkook’s eyes widened.

He’d replayed that day thousands of times in his mind, certain he’d irreparably damaged the way you saw him. He was sure you wouldn’t see him romantically after that and yet here you were, pouring out your feelings to Rhea.

Jungkook nearly punched a fist in the air – only to pause at the next words you typed. Rhea wanted you to ask Jungkook out; an idea you balked at for reasons unknown. These reasons were soon revealed by Rhea’s gentle prodding.

Owens, Rhea: so, the last guy

Owens, Rhea: the dick who broke your heart

Owens, Rhea: he doesn’t have anything to do with the new move, new job situation, does he?

Jungkook’s heart sank. Of course there was another guy. No one as funny, talented and beautiful as you could possibly alone – he’d been afraid of something like this from the start, but as the weeks went by and no one mentioned a boyfriend, he had let himself hope.

Your next words were even more crushing than any admittance of a relationship.

Y/L/N, Y/N: Ahh, you know. The usual. I thought we’d be together forever. He thought it was too early to settle down. We mutually made the decision to break up

Y/L/N, Y/N: you know, because he slept with someone else

Jungkook felt his fury grow the longer he stared at the screen.

The idea of someone cheating on you – on you! – was completely unfathomable. Jungkook had never held cheaters in particularly high regard, but right then he hoped your past boyfriend suffered the same fate as Tantalus. The idea of someone hurting you, of taking your open heart and crushing it like that – Jungkook relaxed his fist, realizing he had clenched it.

Forcing himself to sit back, Jungkook continued to watch you type but remained lost in thought. He didn’t blame you for wanting to protect yourself, for not wanting to be hurt any more than you were. As someone who’d been hurt himself, and often, he understood that innate desire.

What bothered him was your underlying assumption here. The only reason you didn’t want to ask him out was because you thought he didn’t like you back. Jungkook had to go back and re-read that part several times for it to sink in.

No matter how appealing his current method of self-preservation was, it had led you to assume he didn’t like you. Jungkook stared at the screen, baffled and began to think back. There had been several times now he could’ve asked you out, he supposed. That day in your cubicle when he pretend to fix your software for an hour, or maybe after the meet when you lingered on the curb.

He could’ve asked you out either time, but he didn’t and now you were afraid he didn’t like you back.

Abruptly, Jungkook stood from his chair. He took one confident stride towards the hall before promptly sitting down to bury his face in his hands. Confessing to you in your work cubicle was hardly the epitome of romance. He should confess, but at the right time.

Lifting his head to swivel around, Jungkook realized Rhea had hidden the conversation, so presumably that meant it was over. No matter how much he wanted to text you and say in all caps, LET’S DATE, that probably wasn’t the best way to go about this. He should go slow, let you know of his feelings, maybe even flirt a little – the idea twisted his stomach in knots.

It would be alright though, since you liked him. Jungkook couldn’t stop the grin which spread over his face as he returned to his work.

This weekend, he decided, closing out Rhea’s ticket. There was the bowling meet you and Rhea were supposed to come to on Saturday. He would tell you then because honestly, he didn’t think he could wait any longer. All he had to do was hold out until then.

#jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfic #bts drabble #bts fanfic #jungkook writing #bts writing

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songtoyou · 4 years ago

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Chapter Eight: Be Still

Would You Call That Love

Pairing: Chris Evans x Raina Morrison (OC)

Rating: PG to PG-13 (Might be 18+ for some chapters)

Story Summary: There was always that one person Chris Evans tended to turn to when he was not in a committed relationship, Raina Morrison. He could confide in her about things going on in his life that he did not feel comfortable talking to his family or close friends about. Chris and Raina were able to establish a way to openly communicate with one another, but also being respectful of the other’s time and needs. It was the only constant “relationship” he had, but without all the nonsense of trying to build a life together. A “friends with benefits” situation. However, what happens when Chris starts rethinking his “relationship” with Raina and if either are willing to pursue something more?

Chapter Summary: Raina and Chris are having trouble dealing with their time apart. Long-distance relationships suck.

Chapter Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,258

Author’s Note: I was having trouble with this chapter. I had to end up rewriting it because I was not feeling the first draft.

Italics represent flashback conversations.

Sadly, I do not know Chris Evans or anyone in his family, and this is just a fictional take on his life. I do not permit this fic to be reposted on other platforms.

Tag List: @patzammit

Three months. That is how long Raina and Chris had been apart. She continued to star in the Broadway version of Moulin Rouge as Satine. Shows were constantly selling out. Reviews were acclaimed. Unfortunately, Raina was feeling bored. The same routine was beginning to annoy her. She didn't like that there was no room to change things up. Being in a Broadway show was vastly different from her concerts. Raina knew it would be.

Jerry had warned Raina that Broadway was a whole different ballgame than what she was used to or experienced. "You won't be able to change or add things from show to show. It is more rigorous than what you are used to, kid," Raina remembered Jerry telling her one day before she accepted the role.

Raina wanted a challenge. She wanted to do something different. There were times where Raina felt stagnant in her career. Plus, Raina was now considered an aging pop star, so she had to begin the process of branching out into different fields of entertainment.

"You should do the voice," Jerry would always suggest, which Raina repetitively turned down. It wasn't that Raina looked down on voice competition shows. She didn't want to open that door to be on television every week for months on end. She was a performer, not a judge.

Again, three months. Three months since Raina had physically seen her boyfriend. They talked on the phone and skyped regularly, but it was not the same as being in the same room. She missed Chris terribly. And he missed her.

Chris had been pretty busy himself, first having to take Dodger back to Boston before getting ready to go to Toronto. With Raina's busy schedule, she would not have been able to take care of the canine. For a week and a half, Chris would attend the Toronto Film Festival to promote the movie Knives Out. Raina wished she could have gone with him. Chris wished she could have gone with him.

After the film festival, Chris didn't have much downtime. He rushed into working on A Starting Point with Mark to outline the website and coordinate interviews with politicians.

Raina made it a point to steer clear of conversations about ASP. Truthfully, she didn't find the idea appealing or exciting. Yes, Americans needed to be informed about certain aspects of politics and important issues. But many outlets already offered what Chris and Mark were trying to do. She asked Chris one time what made ASP different from the others. She was surprised that he wasn't quite able to come up with a sufficient answer. Raina knew Chris meant well.

"Chris," she spoke up one day before he left the City, "You know I will never bullshit you, and I won't ever blow smoke up your ass. That has never been the kind of friendship we had. Nor is it how we want our intimate relationship to go."

He looked at Raina and told her to go on. "Sometimes, I have noticed, is that you tend not to be able to look outside of your privilege, Chris. You know what I am saying?"

Chris turned to his girlfriend. He was confused about where she was getting at. "No. What are you saying?"

Raina sighed. She could tell Chris was on the verge of getting defensive. "Nothing," she said, throwing her hands up in defeat. "Look, let's no…argue about…stupid stuff, okay." Raina pleaded and walked up to Chris to put her arms around him.

He reciprocated by doing the same. Leaning in, Chris captured Raina's lips. "I don't want to argue either. Especially not before I have to leave," he whispered in her ear.

There would times when Raina would look back on that exchange between her and Chris. She felt weird about how Chris became so defensive. Yeah, she could have worded things better; however, why should she?

Truthfully, Chris was a privileged white male. If he took the time to recognize his privileges, it would make him a better ally to those who represent underprivileged groups. Raina was worried about any possible backlash Chris could face with a project like AS, which was not what she wanted for him. She understood that this was a passion project for Chris and Mark as well. Raina only wanted Chris to make sure that everything was in order and that nothing would be thrown at him unexpectedly. She knew Chris wasn't able to take criticism very well, even when it was constructive, mainly when it came to projects he was enthusiastic about; she understood as she was the same way.

With their time apart, Chris had to miss her birthday, October 19. Chris made sure to send Raina an enormous flower arrangement he could find, along with an array of goodies from Dylan's Candy Bar store. Chris knew the gifts would something Raina would appreciate. However, he still felt guilty that he was not with her to celebrate her birthday in person.

"Hey, birthday girl," Chris greeted Raina through skype on the day of her birthday. He laughed when he saw that she was holding the cupcake pillow he got her.

"I love it!" she exclaimed happily. "And I love my three-tier candy cake. I can't believe you got me that," Raina pointed out as she adjusted the laptop camera to show Chris the candy cake. "I won't be able to eat all of that."

"Yeah, you will," he laughed.

"I miss you," Raina said to Chris. "I didn't think being away from you would be this hard."

Chris sighed, "I miss you, too, sweetheart. But we'll see each other for Christmas, right?"

"Yes, of course. I made sure to schedule that time off. I still plan to come up to Concord for Christmas. My dad has already made plans with Diane for not only Christmas but Thanksgiving as well. So he is taken care of," Raina revealed. "Speaking of Thanksgiving, what are you doing?"

Shifting in his seat, Chris shared that he would spend it in Concord with his family. He noticed the slight disappointment on Raina's face and shift in her demeanor. "You don't want to come here and spend the holiday with me?" she asked solemnly. She didn't want to press on the issue but wanted to hear Chris's reason.

Raina understood that Chris always liked to spend the holidays with his family, but deep down, she hoped he would change it up this year. "It's just been two and a half months since we saw each other," Raina began but stopped. The last thing she wanted to do was to make Chris feel guilty. "Do you have any time off before then?"

"Like you, I'm completely booked up until Christmas. Mark and I are still working on the website for A Starting Point for the rest of October, then when November comes around, it is all press for Knives Out and premiers. Trust me; I would rather be with you than have to do press junkets or walk red carpets," Chris acknowledged.

Raina grabbed a piece of candy from her three-tier candy cake. She just sat back in her chair, not looking at the computer screen. Raina focused on the candy. She didn't want to look at Chris because if she did, tears would begin to form. For some reason, missing Chris and wanting to be with him felt like the equivalent of homesickness. It was a feeling she had never experienced when it came to another human being. Even when she was a teenager touring across the world, she never felt homesick. Her relationship with Chris brought along a whole new set of feelings for Raina, and part of it scared her.

She suddenly asked herself, 'Am I becoming too dependent on Chris?' The last thing Raina wanted to be, was co-dependent.

Raina shook her head and sat up in her chair. She looked at Chris and smiled. "I'm sorry. I know you're busy. I don't mean to pressure you or make you feel bad."

The two continued to talk a bit longer until Chris noticed Raina yawning. "Okay, sweetheart, I will let you get to bed."

"No, I can still talk. It's early," Raina whined like a child.

"It's a quarter after eleven, and that is now your fourth yawn in the last fifteen minutes," he pointed out. "You need to get to bed."

Raina sighed, "Alright, boss. I'll get to bed. Talk to you later or when either one of us is available. Bye, honey. Love you."

"Love you, too. Bye."

Thanksgiving rolled around faster than Chris expected. Time flies when one is busy. He continued to talk to Raina via phone or skype. However, Chris was also beginning to get frustrated at their time apart. Currently, he was home, sitting in his living room with his brother and brother-in-law, watching a football game between the Buffalo Bills and Dallas Cowboys while his mom and sisters prepared dinner. Lisa would poke her head from the kitchen, asking the boys for help from time to time. His niece and nephew were running around playing with Dodger, who appeared to love the attention.

It was almost perfect, except one person was missing. Raina. He called her earlier that day. She shared that she was celebrating Thanksgiving, Chandler Bing style, with some of the Moulin Rouge cast.

"What the Hell is Thanksgiving, Chandler Bing style?" Chris asked, confused.

"Damnit, watch friends, Christopher," Raina scolded teasingly. "Chandler Bing doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving. Because that was the day his parents told him that they were getting divorced. So, instead of all the turkey fixings and stuffing, we have grilled cheese sandwiches, tomato soup, and a family-size bag of Funyuns as an appetizer. We have lots of booze, so don't worry. Oh, and pumpkin cheesecake. Good times, right."

Chris only laughed. "You're living the dream. I don't think what Ma is making could compare."

"Just be sure to tell her to make her spaghetti for Christmas dinner. Or at least make a small pot of it just for me, okay."

"She's planning to, so don't worry. What are you watching? I hear gunfire," Chris enquired.

"I'm watching my husband, Tommy Shelby, shoot at the Italians," Raina informed as she watched Peaky Blinders. "I love Tommy Shelby. I tell you, Chris, if Tommy Shelby showed up at my door asking me to marry him, I would most likely say yes."

"Is that so."

"In a heartbeat. Sorry, hon, but Tommy Shelby, the things I would let him do to..."

"Thank God he is a fictional character," Chris interrupted.

"Not in my dreams he isn't," Raina taunted.

"Okay, I'm hanging up now."

"Alright, I'll stop lusting after my fictional husband while I'm on the phone with you," said Raina and switched topics.

The two continued to talk until Chris was ordered into the kitchen by his mother. It was his turn to help.

Chris was chopping carrots and celery when his mother asked how Raina was doing.

"She is doing fine. Raina wishes she could be here."

However, Lisa could tell something was bothering Chris. He could never hide his emotions from her. "What's the matter, Christopher?"

Chris continued to chop the vegetables until he stopped to look at his mother. "I didn't expect being away from Raina would be this hard, Ma."

"Of course it is. You love Raina," Lisa stated as she continued cooking.

"I do. But in the past, I had girlfriends who I loved and had to do long-distance," Chris explained. "None of those worked out."

"Because you weren't truly in love with them," Lisa pointed out. "Don't compare what you have with Rain to your past relationships. Every relationship is different. What you and Raina have now is not something you have experienced before, which is real love. True love. Everyone always knew that you two would end up together, except you and Raina. You both are so cute but also clueless at times. You both will get through this. The work commitments will die down. You both will be reunited. Everything will be fine."

Chris took in what his mother was saying. He knew she was right. He had things to look forward to beginning the start of the new year.

"Raina is the first person I dated, well since Jessica at least, that I have really begun to think about marriage and kids. Part of me is scared because it's all so fast. We have only started dating back in mid-July. I don't want to rush anything. I don't want to scare her off. I don't want her to get bored of me," Chris confessed honestly.

It was heartbreaking for Lisa to hear. She gestured for Chris to sit down at the kitchen table. "You need to stop, Chris. You are allowing your anxiety to get the best of you. Just take a deep breath, okay," she instructed her oldest son. "Raina will never get bored of you. She loves you very much. Don't think about the past; only focus on the future. You and Raina will be fine. More than fine. Yes, there will be hard times, along with good times. It is normal for every functional relationship. You can't have the good without the bad, the sad without the happy, the ups and the downs. The universe needs balance."

"Okay, Oprah," Chris joked. "I get what you're saying."

"Do you?"

"Yeah, I do, Ma."

"Good. Now get back to chopping," Lisa ordered, and Chris went back to cutting vegetables for Thanksgiving dinner.

#chris evans #chris evans x oc #chris evans x ofc

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saxxxology · 5 years ago

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Cosmo Says - 1

PAIRING: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader WARNINGS: smut: p/v sex, oral sex, some dom/sub themes, eventual threesome, exploration of kinks, and more NOTE: Do not save or repost my work without my consent. I don’t tag for spoilers, so feel free to message me with any questions you have. This work is 18+ only.

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“Cosmo?”

You look up as the magazine lands on the table beside your laptop. The bright pink background is glaringly obvious, as is the half-clothed model on the front cover. Dean’s brought in the mail, and he’s leering down at you like he’s just uncovered your biggest secret.

“Yeah, Cosmo.” You grab the magazine and move it to the other side of your computer, facedown. “What about it?”

“Nothin’.” Dean strides around behind you, leaving the rest of the mail—assorted newspapers and Sam’s monthly National Geographic—on the table. “You just don’t strike me as the kind of girl who reads…” he snatches the Cosmopolitan before you can grab it and peeks at the front cover. “‘Sixty-nine Ways to Spice Up Your Sex Life’.”

Your cheeks flush. “I didn’t subscribe for that.”

“Really?” Dean raises his eyebrows. “What did you get it for, then?”

“It’s none of your business,” you stand up, reaching for the magazine. He holds it above his head, smirking down at you.

“Who’re you gonna try those out with?” he asks. “You got a secret boyfriend Sammy and I don’t know about?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” He grins. “That’s hot.”

“Shut up.” You jump, trying to grab the magazine out of his hand as a playful giggle escapes. “Just give me my magazine back, Dean. Please.”

He puckers his lips, bending over to kiss at your cheek before you can squirm away. “Gimmie a kiss first.”

“Back off, Dean.” Sam strides in, tugging the magazine out of his brother’s hand. He unfurls it, reading the cover, and issues a soft chuckle before handing it back to you. “Really? Cosmo?”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, it’s Cosmo. I don’t see what the big deal is, Dean’s got a subscription to fucking Playboy and I don’t even wanna talk about what I’ve seen in his browser history.”

“Wait, you’ve seen my browser history?”

“Yeah, and you’re nasty.”

“Okay, guys—” Sam steps between you, hands held up. “Dean, leave her alone. She’s right, your browser history is gross.”

Dean frowns and turns on his heel, stalking out of the room, muttering “puritans” under his breath. Before Sam can say anything, you stick your tongue out after the older Winchester and stomp down to the kitchen, open laptop forgotten on the table.

A week goes by with no mention of your subscription. One night, after a long, lazy day spent lounging around in pajamas and eating junk food, Sam finds you in the television room. You’re flipping through the Cosmo, scanning an article about different kinds of cruelty-free makeup, and you barely glance up when he flips the TV on, scanning channels until he settles on some old black-and-white.

“Anything interesting in there?” he asks, slumping back into his armchair and glancing over at you.

“It’s Cosmo, what is there to be interested in?”

He chuckles. “Just askin’.”

You go silent, flipping absentmindedly through pages until you end up in the section that made the front page. Sam turns his attention to the television, and you hope he doesn’t spy the several glances you cast at him. Dean’s joking taunt about you having a boyfriend had hit a little deep—you’ve been single for the last few years that you’ve been with the Winchesters, hitting up one-night stands in towns you linger in long enough to have a drink and a lay before taking off again. You want someone to love you, sure, who the fuck doesn’t, but you’re tired of taking nameless men to bed.

You’ve got two perfect specimens around you almost twenty-four-seven, anyway.

“Hey, Sam?”

“Hmm?”

“Am I fuckable?”

He frowns. “What?”

You sigh, dropping the magazine onto your lap. “If I was some stranger in a bar and you’d had a couple drinks, would you have sex with me?”

Sam clears his throat, shifting a little in his seat. “Well, yeah, I would. But I wouldn’t have to drink to have the balls to do it.”

“What do you mean?”

Sam turns the volume down on the television. “You’re a pretty girl. Besides, drunk sex isn’t my thing.” He spies the pull of your lower lip between your teeth. “Why? Something wrong?”

You know you can trust Sam. If anything, he’s the one person who’s always had your back through thick and thin. “I’m just tired of fucking random guys,” you confess, “I like sex, but it’s boring with them, there’s no connection, we know next to nothing about each other… I hate it. I’d rather fuck men I know.”

Eyebrows raised, Sam completely mutes the television. “By men you know…”

“Well, that is why I got Cosmo.” You ruffle the pages of the magazine. “I was gonna join a dating app or something, maybe try and find another hunter…”

Sam narrows his eyes. “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

“But,” you continue, unable to help a small smile. “I just figured… you and Dean…”

“Wait,” Sam holds up a hand, “me and Dean?”

You reopen the magazine, staring down at a perfume ad on the back of the front cover. “Why have one when you can have two? Besides, I don’t think Dean would care.”

“Care about what?” Dean steps into the room, a bowl of popcorn cradled in one arm. “What’s going on?”

You chew on your lower lip, suddenly embarrassed. “I just thought that… um… I got Cosmo to kinda explore some more, um… things, and I just thought that you guys might be interested.”

Dean absorbs your words carefully, eyes darting from you to the magazine and back again. “Wait,” he finally says, “the last four years we’ve been talking about getting you in bed and now—”

“Four years?” You sit up a little straighter. “So you guys have been trying to get—why didn’t you just tell me?”

They shrug in unison. “Didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Sam says, “or make you feel like you were bein’ used.”

“I’ll give you that.” You turn your gaze to the older brother. “Dean’s a slut anyway, I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Dean frowns, mocking offense at your joke, but sinks down onto the small couch and stretches out. “Just putting it all out there on the table, we both think you’re hot and Sam’s got a list of things he would do to you if you let him.”

“What?” Sam’s cheeks flame red. “No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Shut up—”

You hold up both hands, instantly quelling the bickering. “Anyway… this doesn’t have to go anywhere or lead into anything. I just thought that since we’re friends, we could make arrangements or something.”

The brothers exchange a glance before Dean speaks. “Have you had two partners before?”

“No,” you reply honestly, “but I think if we’re open with each other about who’s getting what, where, when, et-cetera… it could work. Have you two shared before?”

“Once,” Sam replies. “Long time ago, it was just a weekend thing in Vegas and we had a lot of boundaries.”

You nod understandingly. “Well, I know where I stand. I want sex with someone I trust and I got two guys apparently willing to share right here in front of me.”

Sam darts his tongue over his lip. “How would this work?”

You flip to the dog-eared segment of the magazine. “We could do things from here? Pick out things to explore.”

Dean frowns. “What, like the dick in a donut hole thing?”

“Ew, no.” You wrinkle your nose. “Donuts are pure, we don’t need to defile them.”

“True.” Dean throws a piece of popcorn at his brother. “What do you think?”

Sam shrugs, giving you a quick, slightly nervous smile. “I’m in.”

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theliterateape · 4 years ago

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Revisiting the Notes on the Columbine Shooting

By David Himmel

April 20, 1999. I was a sophomore in college in Las Vegas, Nevada. A columnist for the university newspaper then called the Rebel Yell. Just nineteen years old, high school was still a near memory. I heard the news about a high school in Colorado. Some kids were blowing their classmates and teachers away with rifles, automatic weapons and homemade bombs. The whole thing sounded, in lieu of a more apt description because there isn’t one, pretty goddamn fucked up.

I headed into the newspaper offices. I felt that I should be in a newsroom when news like this was breaking.

“Are we covering this Colorado high school shooting?” I asked our managing editor. A gigantic man with a terrifying presence I did my best to not be terrified of. He was old. Seemed too old for college to my young eyes. He was probably twenty-six at the time. He stared at me. Was he rattled by the news like I was? Was he angry? Had I asked a dumb question? Should I not have been there? ColuHe stared me downmnists didn’t usually hang out in the office like that. But I wanted to be a part of the business. I was there to learn and report. His glare cut through me like a bullet might a teenager in Colorado.

“Iron your fucking shirt, you fucking bum,” he replied. “Don’t you have a fucking iron? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

I looked at my wrinkled shirt. He was right. What the fuck was wrong with me? But that wasn’t the issue.

“Are we covering this Colorado high school shooting?” I asked again blasting a glare back at the dried out old sonofabitch.

“Yes,” he replied before re-hunching over his iMac.

“Good,” I said. Then I found a spare desk with a computer and began researching the story so I could construct my take on the thing.

Unfortunately, the UNLV Rebel Yell archives are crap and I cannot find any article prior to 2000. So I cannot repost that story here. But I vaguely remember what I wrote.

Terrible tragedy

The shooters were not just crazy, they were products of their crazy world

We, as a nation, need to do something to help our troubled kids before things get out of hand again

I remember feeling sorry for the shooters, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold. I didn’t sympathize with them. I ached for whatever hell they felt they went through that brought them to that most horrendous and wretched result. And, of course, I felt incredible pain for the victims—the dead and wounded, and the rest of community—local and national—impacted by the massacre at Columbine High School.

✶

A few months ago, I was painfully cleaning out old files. I say painfully because I am one who has a hard time letting go of scraps. Call it histrionic if you want to insult me. I call it journalistic. Papers, notebooks… these are records of our existence. This isn’t hoarding, this is proof. My unread magazine piles meet the trash bin every three months or so. I like clean, not clutter. My papers and notebooks are tucked away in quaint filing cabinets. And a good cleaning at least every year is beneficial. It makes room and reminds. And in this last cleaning, I was reminded of what things were like in the spring of 1999.

When Eric and Dylan murdered twelve students and one teacher, we were shocked—just like the two angry killers wanted. They also wanted the day to be remembered forever. And it will be. Because the Columbine High School Massacre is like Elvis Presley. Nothing like it came before and every mass shooting since can’t help but draw inspiration from it.

There were around thirty-one school shootings or attempted shootings in the entire 19th century in the United States. That kicked up to approximately 276 in the 20th century before Columbine. In the twenty-twenty-two years since Columbine, there have been around 240 school shootings. (We’re not counting general mass shootings here. Just the ones happening in schools.) Before Columbine, the death rate was low. One dead, maybe five. Some shooters missed completely, maybe only injuring one or two. Terrible attacks but, comparatively merciful. Peaceful.

On April 20, 1999, peace and mercy were not possible. It changed everything. And we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into.

My notes reveal the developing story and laughable insight into the future. The first line is, “Congress may approve new gun control measures proposed by Clinton.” Cute.

There’s a note from the developing story that there were fifteen dead including one teacher. This is interesting to me because if this happened in today’s news cycle and I had printed that fifteen were reported dead, I’d likely have been ostracized by the mass public for publishing fake news. Because in 2021, reporting on developing news stories are a sign of ineptitude and/or partisanship and propaganda.

My favorite notes are the most prescient. “MSNBC four correspondents all fighting talking at once. (bickering)” Absolutely nothing has changed there. So, our mass shootings have become more frequent and MSNBC is still producing stage plays of yelling buffoons accomplishing next to nothing. Yay us. Yay MSNBC.

But in reviewing my notes, the one scribble that gave me pause was this: “NRA is not to blame.” Oh, nineteen-year-old David… So naïve. So sweet. So simple. Today, with the knowledge of history and factual findings it’s safe to say that while the NRA did not pull the trigger, it did little to nothing to prevent weapons getting into the hands of the wrong people like angry children. The NRA couldn’t know about Eric and Dylan specifically but they did very little to promote gun safety and responsibility.

After reviewing these notes and thinking back on Columbine in the wake of the most recent mass shootings in Texas and Wisconsin, my takeaway is this: As a collective people living in this nation, we don’t care about our children or each other. We also have no problem with MSNBC cultivating a journalistic culture of screeching at one another with functioning rubes at the desk like Brian Williams or in the guest chair like Amy Klobuchar. But that’s another polite discussion for another time.

Today, we ought to consider the dead, the wounded, the impacted, the good who continue to fight against bullying, fight for reasonable gun control, and generally, a better place for our kids to safely learn what a fucked up country they live in.

#When Eric and Dylan murdered twelve students and one teacher #we were shocked—just like the two angry killers wanted. They also wanted the day to be remembered forever. And it will be. Because the Colum #Columbine High School #Columbine Massacre #School Shootings #Mass Shootings

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briandthemoon · 5 years ago

Photo

~ Uploading this WIP here too! ~ {You can see both on my deviantArt too [same username], but with some of the original ideas and thoughts.} So uh, I did what I do best and shoved two things I love and have been hyperfocusing on for the last month together: Sanders Sides and RWBY.

I’ve been binging @thatsthat24 ‘s Sanders Sides videos and fan comics for the last month or so and by god, it’s really lifted my mood. I’m gonna work to get them all lined and coloured soon, but since I’ll be travelling in the next week, I’ll likely have paper sketches and such to upload if I’m lucky.

As for this AU, say hello to Team RNBO [Rainbow]! This is what I have so far in terms of character information; [putting it under a readmore, please do have a look!]

Roman De La Rosa:

- Semblance: "Picture This" - the ability to conjure an item proportional to the positive emotions he alone is feeling. So the happier and more creative he feels, the better.

- Weapons: “Armas Y Rosas“, a gauntlet-gun [armas] and a rosen rapier sword [rosas]. It’s literally just a Guns N Roses joke.

Virgil Nightshade:

- Black Cat Faunus. I didn’t realise til too late how similar to Blake he is but honestly, idc, I love him.

- Semblance: "Panic Room" - the ability to conjure a small isolated, soundproof space to trap someone in. Including himself in times of distress.

- Weapons: “Atropa” and “Solanum”, two knives with dust vials that attach to the end to infuse the metal. He usually uses Gravity Dust because 1) aesthetic and 2) if you have gravity defying Dust? Thats a cool escape my guy.

Logan Blu-Berrie:

- Semblance: “Blu-Screen of Death” - the ability to perform computer-esque functions via summons, i.e. attacking someone with a text box he just conjured, or browsing data and memories on a summoned screen for accuracy.

- Weapon: “Crofter”, a staff-spear that uses projection similar to Velvet’s weapon to form blades when needed. I.E. turning the staff into an axe or hammer or even forming a fishing line. [Looking at this whole thing, Logan wound up giving me big Scottish vibes in this AU and I’m SO for it.]

Patton Opal:

- Labrador Faunus, best boy 1000/10, didn’t have to re-work his design at all, what a madlad

- Semblance: "New Trick" - the ability to mark a person and be able to find them via a boosted scent marker. So far Roman smells like strawberries and creme, Virgil smells like smokey wood, and Logan smells like jam. And yes, Patton has tried tracking himself. He smells of vanilla cookies.

Weapon: “Storge”, a shield - axe combo. Mostly used in the shield position unless he’s forced to be active in a fight. Tried to give this weapon BIG Rose Quartz Shield Vibes.

Remus Pepinillo:

- for those wondering, he threw out the De La Rosa name when he left the family to go eat deoderants without judgement. And to go cause havoc.

- Semblance: “Can’t Be Unseen” - Similar to Roman’s semblance, Remus can conjure items but instead based upon other people’s negative emotions directed at him. So things like disgust and fear directed at him make him stronger.

- Weapon: “Asqueroso”, a mace that can be wielded in pole form or as a chain flail. The name literally is just the spanish for “Disgusting”.

“Deceit“:

- Python faunus. Pretty obvious there. As for a name, I’ll work with whatever becomes canon, tbh. His hat snake isn’t real, it’s just a design, but he has named his hat “Monty”.

- Semblance: “Trust in Me” - Deceit can mimic someone else’s voice to the point of being hypnotic in some cases.

- Weapon: “Kaa”, a microphone that can amplify sounds to use as ammo, or can be combined with dust vials for other effects, such as fire breathing or ice breath. This is absolutely where Virgil got the idea for his knives.

~~ Little Things In Their Designs Collectively~~

- So mostly Roman and Virgil had a revamp and got added or changed details. I’m personally loving the rose decals for Roman, and the fact that Virgil has to keep sewing his hoodie pocket sides back up because he keeps knee-jerk whipping out his knives and catching them on the sides. Also freckles. I cannot stress enough how much I needed to give one of these cute lil guys freckles.

- Logan and Patton really didn’t change much; Patton came out perfect the first time, and Logan just needed some proportion adjustments. Later I went and added friendship bracelets to each design because I do not believe for a second that Patton wouldn’t make them team bracelets. The card suit beads was just an addition that I added because I am the artist and none of you can stop me from adding the tiniest of references to Homestuck Quadrants.

- For Roman and Remus, I wanted them to have similar poses but good god, it was still hard to draw Remus’s hands. They look so good in the end though so I’m good with ‘em. I also might give him a little top hat or something at some point and see how it looks, I dunno.

- As for Deceit, I had a bit of trouble trying to pin down his design at first, but once I rolled with the allusions to Kaa from Jungle Book, it went far easier. I quite like that I added the poisonous needles in the bottom of his boots as a “sting in the tail” kind of thing.

- Talking about inspirations and such, Roman, Virgil, and Patton are pretty much just colour based; Roman being red roses [his name literally being Roman of the Rose] as a symbol of romance of course, with Virgil’s whole motif being Edgey and thus going with nightshade purple as his colour, and finally with Patton, his name took me the longest to work out, but Opal seemed to fit really well, and considering it represents Love and Loyalty? Come on, I had to.

- As for Logan, Deceit, and Remus, they all got more story links worked in somehow without me really realising. Logan was really unexpected, but between the Crofters’ Jam link and the blue colours, he gave me sort of Little Boy Blue vibes, and also via the name Logan being Scottish in origin and yknow, everythign else I mentioned? Yeah. I will definitely be adding celtic flair to his design when its coloured. Deceit is more obvious; Kaa was a good choice in influence that I noticed halfway through and just buckled down on. For Remus, he bounced around a bit between Maleficent and Dr Facilier, but in the end, I figured the Shadow Man was a better fit. Also his surname is literally just the Spanish for “Pickle” or “Gherkin”.

- Final info, if people are wondering, they’d all be centred on Huntsman training at Beacon, but in terms of where they’re from;

Roman and Remus would be from Atlas, obviously. That place spits out rich kids with issues like it’s quickfire Uno.

Virgil would be from Mantle; it’s pretty obviously one of the more run down and hard to live in areas, plus that’d set up the in this universe initial animosity between Roman and Virgil.

Logan is from Vale, so he’s a Beacon native. I considered him being from Atlas because of their tech. However, Vale won me over with Logan’s european influences and such.

Patton would be from Vacuo. I know its a weird choice, but hey, it’s full of faunus and it just fit a bit better than Menagerie or Mistral.

Speaking of, Deceit is 100% Menagerie born, but Mistral bred. He often tells people different conflicting origin stories, and won’t even tell his name to ex-buddy Virgil or ‘best buddy’ Remus.

I think that’s everything so far!!

I dunno if everyone else is as hype to see what comes of all this as I am, but either way I’m going to have fun doing it. <3

_______ PLEASE DO NOT: - repost my art at all - you are not permitted to line or colour this art - you are not permitted to use this art as an icon or profile pic - do not steal these designs, I put a lot of work into them ;; _______ Sanders Sides (c) @thatsthat24 RWBY (c) Monty Oum & Rooster Teeth The sketches belong to me.

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bexterbex · 5 years ago

Text

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 68

Warning, PLEASE CHECK TAGS IF YOU SEE SOMETHING YOU DON’T WANT TO READ THEN DON’T READ. Tag lists are closed

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Will tag as I go along, Will update tags, Slow Burn, Influenced by Star Trek and other Sci-Fi themes, References to We Happy Few, Tons of References and quotes to George Orwells 1984 see if you can find them all, The First Order is the new Big Brother, but who is really surprised, Blatant Nazi Symbolism, Interrogation Themes, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Really just drawn out Slow Burn, Don’t repost without permission, Torture themes, Suggestive Themes, Execution themes, Disturbing Themes, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Controlling Kylo Ren, Physical Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Possessive Kylo Ren, A character shamelessly based on Zelda

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

MASTERLIST

Chapter 68: Mustafar

The next day Hux had arranged a transport ship to bring you down to the surface. You had ordered no more ships full of ‘troopers to be sent down to Mustafar until you had arrived. You were being guarded by Trudgen, Kuruk, and Captain Phasma. Hux and Mitaka were also escorting you along with a handful of other officers and ‘troopers. You could see the worry on Hux and Mitaka’s faces as you approached the surface. Both of them had their standard-issue blasters equipped to their belts.

You waited as the ship landed, all eyes were on the exiting ramp as it lowered. The surface of the planet was much different than you expected. The air was heavy with a volcanic smell, the trees in the forest looked scorched. Desolate is how you would describe the planet to which your wedding was to be held. You followed the knights out of the ship, Phasma directly to your side and the rest of your company following. You did your best to show no fear, your head held high, your shoulders and back straight. You were not to be messed with.

The Alazemac approached with their guns, spears, axes, and bows. Yelling words that you did not understand. But they halted when they saw the knights. You could hear them speak to one and other as they pointed to Trudgen and Kuruk’s helmets.

You turned around to ask one of the officers behind you, “Is there anyone that speaks their language?” You wanted to know what they were saying. You were hoping that the similarities between the knights and Kylo were working in your favor at the moment.

“The translator droid does.” It stepped forward. You watched as the Alazemac regarded it in a rather hostile manner. You weren’t sure if they were used to any technology of this sort.

“Can you tell me what they are saying,” you asked the rather robotic humanoid droid. You had sort of wished whoever designed it had left the eyepieces out, as they looked rather soulless.

“They seemed to be debating on whether or not the Knights of Ren’s helmets are related to that of Lord Vader’s,” said the robotic voice of the droid.

One of them seemed to hear the word Vader as they all began to shout his name. You didn’t know whether or not to be excited or scared. You hoped the shouting was a good thing.

“Can you tell them that the grandson of Lord Vader wishes to use the castle?” You really hoped they believed you. Hoping that the knights’ helmets would be just enough to convince them. You really didn’t want an all-out war.

You heard them exchange conversation, the droid turned back to you. “They have agreed.” You could see silence fall over the cultists.

“Tell them thank you,” you knew you needed to be polite. Basically, it was rule number one in all of your training thus far.

“They do not have a word or phrase for thank you, Lady Ren,” responded the droid with a cocked head. For the first time, you honestly thought it could actually think and not just compute.

“Then tell them Lord Vader would be pleased, at their allowance for us to use the castle.” You hoped this would translate well, it wasn’t a thank you per se but it should be good enough. Kylo and the knights usually failed to have proper manners, but you were supposed to be a lady. So you needed to have good enough manners for the both of you.

The droid translated what you said, and you could hear excited chatter from the cultists who ushered you towards the castle in the distance. You were thankful that Adlez picked out a comfortable pair of boots for this visit.

The castle was a large structure that seemed to pierce the sky with its height. It sort of reminded you of something out of a fantasy novel, like Lord of the Rings. But not something the elves or humans would live out of, rather something Sauron would. You approached a river of lava by the entrance. Now you were starting to understand Kylo’s design and fashion influence.

While it was full of symmetry, and clean sharp lines it was dilapidated. Upon entering the ruins of the castle, you felt eerily alone even though you were surrounded by many other people. The heaviness and stillness of the air added to the wariness you felt. Something about this castle felt as if there was more here than just a building.

You watched as Trudgen, and Kuruk seemed to share some sort of silent communication with each other.

“Do you feel it too,” you asked them.

“You feel it? I thought you lacked Force sensitivity,” responded Kuruk, his distorted voice echoing in the large silent chamber. No one had said anything since entering the castle, as if too afraid to disturb what might be there.

“I don’t have the Force, or at least the doctor seems to think so, and the Supreme Leader has yet to say something about it. But I feel…. a heavy darkness in the corners of the castle, but a blanket covering it? And under us is something I do not want to visit.” Something dark seemed to, for a lack of a better word, live under the castle. Something you were afraid of. You could feel the rational part of your brain get worried.

“This place is full of the Force,” responded Trudgen.

“Built using ancient Sith architecture directly over an ancient Sith cave. This place is also filled with Darth Vader’s energy. What you are feeling is the Force. And purely the dark side of the Force,” said Kuruk.

You stepped around some fallen stone as you made your way to the main room that overlooked Mustafar. “The dark side of the Force? The Sith?” You had a million questions stirring in your mind. “It would probably be best if the boss answered those questions. In his next call to you, you should ask,” said Trudgen.

You looked around the room you were in; it felt open but yet closed off from the rest of the galaxy. “This is where the ceremony will take place. I want what can be repaired to be repaired.” You turned to the other officers who seemed to not want to enter the room as far as you did. You then spoke directly to the translator droid. “Let the Alazmac know that we will have ships and technicians brought down to the surface to repair the castle. We want to help restore it, to fulfill Lord Vader’s legacy.”

You then turned back to the large window, gazing at the firey burning planet that you would have to be married on. The lines of lava reminded you of the red lines marring Kylo’s mask. This felt in many ways like it was the place Kylo was meant to be. Not somewhere else in the galaxy fighting for who knows what, but here. You wondered if this was the place that you would eventually rule from, or if he would still choose the Supremacy. But this still didn’t feel like the place in your dreams. No, that place was different. It had a throne, an ancient one. Here it felt too new.

Hux approached you, “M’lady I’ve received a message from the Supreme Leader.” He held out his comlink, and you heard a recording of Kylo’s voice. “The scavenger is dead.”

Your heart stopped for a moment. He was doing it, he was actually killing Ben Solo. His mother would be next. You felt frozen in time, your ears rang before Hux spoke again.

“He also sent word that there will be a transmission of the battle being sent out during the monthly address tomorrow. The one you were supposed to hold together. He wants you to lead it.” The numbness of static was felt all over your body. You were going to have to lead without him, without his help. Your hands started to shake.

“Do not worry, m’lady. Myself and Hux will help you. You are also able to rely on proper staff now. All you should have to do is really introduce the transmission and to conclude it,” said Phasma reassuringly.

For a moment you were jealous of her and the knights. They could hide behind masks. They did not have to mask their emotions on their faces. They had anonymity when they wore them, even if they were recognizable with their armor and helmets. You were vulnerable, and now really for the first time without Kylo by your side.

You didn’t fully register your thank you to her in your mind, but it escaped your mouth, anyway. Your body working on autopilot as you made your way out of the castle and back to the transport shuttle. You hoped Kylo would call you again tonight. You needed him, and you hoped that he could feel that wherever he was in the galaxy.

You disembarked the transport shuttle in the main hanger; you hadn’t said a word to anyone on your ascension back up to the Supremacy. Your mind was going a million miles per hour, and it was completely empty at the same time. You calmly made your way back to your chambers, still running on autopilot, not speaking to or addressing anyone. You entered your chambers where you were greeted by the rest of your staff and your ladies-in-waiting, “Out.” You gave a simple command. As much as you probably needed to prepare for tomorrow, you needed to be alone right now.

You were by yourself for no more than a few minutes before you received a holocall from Kylo. You watched as his disheveled image appeared in front of you.

“You’re hurt.” There were a few new gashes littering his face, and from what you could see another on his arm, and what appeared to be a hole in his side.

“I am fine.” His voice was gruff and abrupt. On closer inspection of his image, you could see that they were mostly just angry reds and pinks and not actively bleeding. “She is dead.”

You quickly blinked twice before responding, “Yes. Hux delivered the news to me.”

“Good. How are the preparations coming along?” His voice was rather monotone. His eyes now seemed as cold and hard as steel.

You knew this was probably not the best time to test his anger, “Good. I visited the surface and negotiated with the Alazemac. Repairs should be underway for the castle itself. I have a fitting tomorrow. Everything seems to be coming along.”

“Good.” He just seemed to stare at you, you didn’t know if you should end the call.

“Can you explain to me briefly what the dark side of the Force is and who the Sith are?” You didn’t know if he was in the mood to answer these questions, but you needed to know. At least you weren’t accusing him of not proposing to you.

“The force has three sides, the light, the dark, and the grey. The light side is aligned with calmness and is used for knowledge and defense. The dark side is aligned with passion and is used for strength, power, victory, and above all else freedom. The grey is a mix of the two, a balance. The Sith were the opposite of the Jedi. The Jedi used the light side of the Force whereas the Sith used the dark side.”

“So does the Force have a mind of its own or can you like fully control it?”

“No, I manipulate it, sometimes I let it into my desires when it touches you as it does, that’s me. Usually, I am wanting to do what it’s doing while doing what I am doing.”

“So in my brain, the wanting to take over?” “That wasn’t something I was fully in control of. As the doctor said he believes we are too compatible and so the me that was in you, wanted to replace you. I do admit that I may have gotten carried away exploring your mind. In many ways it is the most intimate thing I can do to you, caress your mind with mine. I want to fill you with myself completely. Once I am done with my task, we can scour the galaxy for ancient texts to see if we can heal you, or strengthen you. So when we would like to be truly as intimate as can be—we can.”

This was the first time in your conversation that it seemed that he had any emotion at all. Only when he was speaking about you. Your eyes softened towards him, you watched as his body relaxed. You wished he was here with you, every particle in your very being craved his presence.

“When do you think you will be home,” you knew you probably wouldn’t get the answer you wanted to hear, but you desperately wanted him home.

“I will be meeting with my mother in two days’ time. She has agreed to surrender herself to me. After that, I will return to you, Kitten. And there shall be nothing that can separate us ever again.” His body hunched forward, closer to you. Oh, how you wished you could kiss his lips, draw him in close, and never let him leave your side.

“I wish you could be with me tomorrow, but I know that you have your duty and that I have mine. But I miss you so much,” a tear made its way down your cheek. Your heart threatening to make you release your ocean.

His voice softened considerably, “Do not cry Kitten, I shall be back to you in three days time. And then you shall be Empress. We will be together for eternity.” You could hear the emotion in his voice, almost as if he was holding back his own tears. His face seemed to reflect this too, and he swallowed back his emotions.

“I should let you go, you need to rest. And you need to follow my orders of coming back to me in one piece.” You wiped another tear that escaped.

You saw him smirk and heard a deep chuckle escape his wide chest. “I shall do that. I need to look my best for my wedding. But you should rest as well, Kitten. I shall see you soon.” And the call ended. Once again you felt rather empty after his image disappeared. But he would be home soon, you would be with him soon.

You mustered all of your strength and energy and got up. You headed to the dressing room to check on your appearance before you called all the staff back in to plan tomorrow’s assembly. They were in your chambers in a matter of minutes along with the Allegiant General.

You paced up and down in front of them. Hands-on your hips as you were to on edge about, well, everything. You looked at Lieutenant Amala Graven.

“I need you to send a letter to the orphanage to set back the date of my appearance until after I become Empress.” You hated setting back the date, but there was no time now.

“Do we have any idea when that shall be,” asked Hux.

“The Supreme Leader informed me he believes he will be back in three days’ time. His mother will be handing herself over in two days.” You hoped this to be true, you loathed being apart from him now.

Graven pushed up her glasses before asking, “So the letter will state that you will arrange a visit after you are officially crowned Empress but I shall give no date as to when that shall be?”

“Yes,” you answered simply and continued pacing. “Now, what shall I say at the assembly?” You asked as a general question to them all.

“M’lady you have no need to worry,” reassured Captain Mitaka.

“Public speaking in front of billions of people isn’t exactly my forte.” And who’s strength was it, really? They weren’t in your shoes, they didn’t have this responsibility—you did.

“Would you like to watch that film again,” asked Hux. You knew he was the only one that had a similar experience to you. He has spoken in front of billions of people, but he was born for this. It was in his blood.

“No, I just need to feel prepared.” You felt as if watching the film might actually give you a stutter you didn’t have. And you wanted to avoid that as much as possible.

Night fell, and you felt better after planning everything with your staff. You let your ladies-in-waiting prepare you for bed as they helped do some preparations for tomorrow morning’s prep. Dr. Dabrini came to administer your nightly sleep medication.

“Doctor, is there anything you could give me to ease my anxiety about tomorrow’s assembly?” Nervous and anxious were understatements about how you felt.

“You shall do great tomorrow m’lady I know it, but I can arrange for an anti-anxiety pill with your breakfast tomorrow. But I do not suggest to make it a habit.” His calming voice and understanding eyes gave you a small comfort.

“I don’t want it to be one either, but with the Supreme Leader not being at my side, I feel more anxious than ever,” you confided.

“I understand. I will make the arrangement. I believe a droid should be responsible enough to deliver that medication.” He then left you alone to fall asleep. Thankful that the sleeping pill was so effective as you were sure that the butterflies in your stomach would have kept you up otherwise. Morning came quickly.

Adlez and Olivia-Rose rushed you into the bathroom first thing. Drawing a bath, giving you the works. You felt as soft and as new as a baby when you stepped into the dressing room to get ready. Adlez picked out the perfect dress. It reminded you of Kylo’s uniform and it was a comforting gesture. After all, you were supposed to be a united front for the First Order whether you were with each other or not.

As promised the doctor had sent a pill for you to take with breakfast, something to help calm you down. Your nerves were alive with electricity, your stomach churning so bad that you barely ate your breakfast. You hoped the medication would kick in soon.

You made your way down to the assembly hall, for the second time, but for the first time without Kylo. Trudgen and Kuruk stood before you in front of the double doors of the hall. Waiting for your command to enter. You sent your staff ahead of you. So now you were alone in the hall, with just them, but they were quiet guardian angels. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to reach out to Kylo. You knew it was impossible, but it made you feel better. “I’m ready.” The doors opened, as did your eyes. You followed your black guardian angels up to the stage. You could feel the anticipation of the room on your tongue. Everyone was on the edge of their seats.

This time the execution had already happened. And now you were to relay this information to them all. You received encouraging nods from the officers on stage. The knights fell back behind you, following you now, being imposing as you stepped up to the podium. All eyes were on you, and not just the ones in the room, but all across the galaxy.

Your voice rang out with confidence, “Yesterday the Supreme Leader won one of the most important battles in the history of the galaxy. A great feat was accomplished. We are currently winning our war against the impure New Republic and their trivial Resistance. He, being the gracious Supreme Leader that he is, has sent us a transmission of the battle that took place. You will now have the honor of watching him fight in battle, like the many great warriors of the Empire before him.”

You stepped back as the transmission played, being broadcasted to all corners of the galaxy. Before you all was the battle between Kylo and the scavenger Rey on what you assume to be the desert planet Pasaana.

You heard her voice first, “You don’t have to do this. I feel the conflict in you. It’s tearing you apart. Ben, I saw your future. Just the shape of it, but solid and clear. You will not bow before the dark side. You will turn. I’ll help you. I saw it.” Her blue lightsaber lit as she was meters apart from him, in a battle stance.

Kylo, sans helmet, let out a menacing laugh. “I saw something, too. Because of what I saw, I know when the moment comes, you will die. You will not stand by me. You are alone. I know what I have to do.” You watched as he ignited his lightsaber. Showing his monster to her, his beast.

She was holding back tears, “Ben.” But calling out the name of his weaker half only made him angrier

“Let the past die. I’ll kill it if I have to. That’s the only way to become what I am meant to be. It’s time to let old things die. Snoke, Skywalker. The Sith, the Jedi, the Rebels.... let it all die. I will rule with her and bring a new order to the galaxy.” He brought his arm up, taking aim at her as he spread his stance out, getting ready for the attack.

“Don’t do this, Ben. Please don’t go this way.” Her tears were free flowing now. He was breaking her heart.

“You know the truth. Say it. SAY IT! You have no place in this story. You come from nothing. You’re nothing. You mean nothing to me.” He was practically foaming at the mouth, his eyes wild with anger and destruction.

She let out a cry as he rushed forward. He dominated the battle, striking with such strength and ferocity that you had never seen. You thought his sparing with the knights was impressive, but it paled in comparison to the battle that was unfolding on screen. He was winning until a blaster shot from off-screen grazed his arm. For a split second, he looked back at the person who fired the shot, and while he was distracted she stabbed him with her saber.

You heard a massive gasp roll through the crowd if you didn’t know that Kylo was alright and if the medication wasn’t in your system, you would probably be sobbing at the sight.

You watched as his attention snapped back to her, seemingly unfazed at his own impalement. Between clenched teeth, you heard him say, “Wrong move,” as he sliced her in half with one swift swing of his arm. Her saber deactivating completely, leaving him with a clean, cauterized hole in his abdomen. You watched as he knelt down over her, clenching his wound. “Pathetic,” was the last thing he said before the transmission ended.

You stepped back up to the podium before your brain could fully register what you just saw. You simply said, “Long Live the Supreme Leader.”

A/N: So.... How are we all feeling? Let me know!

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo x reader #kylo x you #a soul to mend his own #star wars #first order #star wars imagine #Star wars soulmate au #sw first order imagine #star wars first order

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sunlightdances · 5 years ago

Text

Light a Flame (College!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Author: Katie @sunlightdances Title: Light a Flame Pairing: College AU Steve Rogers x Fem Reader Rating: PG-13 (for language) Summary: Big, sweet, blonde idiot Steve and slightly idiot reader. Our faves! You’re paired with Steve Rogers for a project. Captain of the debate team, track and field star, and actual intelligent man… which just made you more furious. It would be one thing if he was an idiot. But he wasn’t, and you needed an A in this class to get through the rest of the year unscathed. Disclaimer: I don’t own Steve Rogers, or Marvel. Please don’t repost my work on any other sites without my permission! Author’s Note: Special thanks to @lipstickandvibranium for reading this over for me! If you like this, please reblog and give me some feedback! Also check out my masterlist for other pairings and stories.

As a general rule, you tried not to dislike people, or hold grudges.

It didn’t do any good, even if at the time your reason for being upset was completely justified. You were considering changing your stance after meeting Steve Rogers, however.

He seemed perfect - perfect hair, perfect eyes, perfect teeth -- but you got a glimpse at the real person under the mask when you were paired together for a politics project.

He was-- you couldn’t even put it into words.

Smug.

Self righteous.

A pain in the ass.

(Also the most attractive person you’ve seen up close, with his sharp jaw and deep blue eyes, and the way he laughed--)

Okay, maybe you could put it into words. Still, it did nothing to help your situation, because you were stuck with him for the semester. Him and his know-it-all attitude.

Steve Rogers. Captain of the debate team, track and field star, and actual intelligent man… which just made you more furious. It would be one thing if he was an idiot. But he wasn’t, and you needed an A in this class to get through the rest of the year unscathed.

You stew silently as you sit in the library and wait for him. He’s almost an hour late, and you’re thinking of a million witty retorts for when he finally shows up, but it all flies right out of your head when he comes jogging into the library, eyes a little wild and hair windswept.

He spots you, and his shoulders slump. He gets to you in a few long strides.

“I’m sorry--”

“I took off work to be here today--” you start, angrily.

“I know, and I didn’t mean to be late, but I got caught up--”

“It’s common decency to be on time! Especially when one person has already rearranged their schedule--”

He almost collapses into the chair across from you, wiping his hand down his face. “I said I was sorry. It won’t happen again.”

He sounds genuinely upset, and for the first time, you’re not sure how to respond. “... Are you okay?”

He waves a hand dismissively. “Fine. Let’s just get to work.”

The two of you debate for what feels like hours. Steve wants to present a moral argument on an issue, you want to present a logical argument on the same issue… honestly, you wonder if Professor Coulson realized what he was doing when he paired you together.

After an especially long yawn from Steve, you feel your patience wearing thin. “You know what? I’m calling it. Don’t want to bore you to death.”

He looks taken aback. “Sorry?”

“You haven’t done anything but act bored and like you’d rather be anywhere else since you got here. So I’ll save you the trouble and finish the rest of the presentation myself.”

Angrily, he stands, mirroring you. “We haven’t decided on anything yet.”

“I don’t need your input.”

“Look, I don’t know what I did to piss you off so much--”

“Besides your general…” You gesture vaguely in his direction, immediately regretting it when his eyes go cold and a bitter smile shows up on his face.

He nods. “Okay. Well, I won’t keep you.”

You had visions of leaving him there, sitting there alone like he had done to you, but instead the door clicks with a kind of finality that you weren’t expecting to feel so guilty about as he leaves, and you’re alone again.

It starts raining while Steve is walking back to his apartment, but he barely notices. He’s surprised there isn’t steam coming off of him with how hot with anger and embarrassment he feels after his encounter with you.

He doesn’t understand why he lets you get under his skin this way.

He wishes you would just see him for once.

You and he have had classes together for years, but have never really been in the same social circles, or been paired up on anything together.

It doesn’t mean he’s never noticed you before.

He remembers the first time he ever saw you vividly. And he kinda hates himself for it, because while he remembers every detail of that moment, he doubts you do.

He sticks his foot in his mouth every time you come within five feet of him, and now you hate him.

He gets to his apartment and is literally dripping wet, Bucky pulling open the door before he can put his key into the lock, eyes widening.

“What the hell happened?”

“She hates me.” He hangs his sodden jacket on a hook by the door, tossing his keys into the bowl on the small table. “I was late, and I tried to apologize—”

“Jesus. How you’ve managed to mess this up so spectacularly, I have no idea.”

“Fuck off,” Steve groans, heading to his bedroom to change out of his wet clothes, seething the entire time.

“All I’m saying,” Bucky’s voice drifts through the closed door, “Is that you finally have the chance to get to know the girl, and now you can’t even get that right?”

Steve grits his teeth. “Remind me why we’re friends again?”

He opens the door to see Bucky’s grinning face.

“Because no one else would put up with your dramatic ass for their entire lives.” He follows Steve to the kitchen, sitting at one of the bar stools while Steve pulls out a bowl and some cereal.

“She wouldn’t even let me explain why I was late, and I apologized straight away… she’s impossible. We’re both going to fail this project because she hates me so much she’d rather take a failing grade than work with me.”

Bucky looks skeptical. “Why were you late?”

Steve sighs, knowing he’s going to get shit for this no matter how hard he defends himself. “I was talking to Sharon—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Bucky exclaims, face twisted in exasperation. “For what? For the final nail in your coffin? Jesus, dude—”

“She asked me to call her! I thought something was wrong.”

Bucky puts a hand on his shoulder, “I say this with the most love a best friend can say this with: you really have to get a grip. You and Sharon broke up months ago.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“It is when you have feelings for someone else!”

Steve groans, letting his forehead hit the counter top. “You know, she wasn’t the nicest person in the world either, but I don’t think she’s getting chewed out by her best friend right now.”

Bucky snorts. “Yeah, well. She doesn’t have me for a best friend, does she?”

MJ and Peter stare at you in disbelief.

“You said what?” Peter asks, eyes wide.

“He was late! By a lot!”

MJ shakes her head. “You told him his general existence is why you don’t like him? Girl.”

You feel your cheeks reddening. “I know, I know. I just— I got so angry, and it just came out.” You bury your face in your hands. “I’m the worst.”

“You’re not the worst,” Peter assures you. “You just suck at having a crush on someone.”

You glare at him.

You have no idea how you let it get this far. You tend to be standoffish when you like someone, because you’re afraid of the inevitable, that they won’t like you back and that you’ll be stuck pining after someone.

But the truth? The truth is that Steve Rogers has a way of pushing your buttons like no one else, while simultaneously being the nicest, most attractive person you know.

“I should apologize.” You mutter, so quiet Peter and MJ actually lean closer to hear you.

“What?”

“I said I should apologize.” You groan. “I’m never going to live this down. He’s just--”

“Super hot?” MJ finishes, eyebrow raised.

You groan again, and try to tune out the laughter of your friends.

Hours later, in the quiet dark of your apartment, glasses perched on your nose, you open a blank email.

To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: Sorry

Steve,

Sorry for bailing on our project planning session today. I’m also sorry I was a huge jerk. I had a bad day and took it out on you.

Can we meet another day this week to finish up?

Sorry again.

You hit send before you can second guess it, and hope that you didn’t screw up as monumentally as you think you might have.

An hour later, a ping from your computer wakes you up, and with bleary eyes, you read:

To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: Re: Sorry

I’m sorry too, for being late. And for arguing so much. I’m free tomorrow after 1pm if that works for you.

You’re surprised, but relief takes over you as you finally fall asleep.

Steve is fidgety, and he doesn’t do fidgety. He’s usually calm and collected, but he knows he was a jerk the night before, and it doesn’t sit well with him.

He’s also a little worried that you’re going to yell at him again, which-- fair, but not really what he wants to deal with.

He sees you come into the Starbucks and waves from the table he’s claimed towards the back, hoping that being in a more public place will deter you from any violence. Not that he thinks you’d resort to that. But who knows, at this point.

“Hey.” You say quietly when you get closer, dumping your bag on the empty chair across from him.

“Hi.”

An uncomfortable silence settles over the two of you.

“Look, we already emailed about it, so can we skip the awkward apologies and just get to work?”

Relief floods him. “Yeah. Absolutely.”

“Great. I’m going to order a coffee.”

You’re back in a few minutes, and start digging out notebooks and color-coded spreadsheets, and he has a minute to be impressed before you meet his eyes, arching your eyebrows.

“So this is what I’ve done over the last three weeks. I’ve got all the info here, but we need to make it look presentable. Lucky for us, you’re the art major.”

“Art history--”

You wave a hand, “You can draw. I’ve seen you doodle.”

He snorts. “Okay.”

You look at him again, “If you don’t want to, we can make it digital, but I just thought it would be better--”

Steve runs a hand over his jaw, “No, you’re right. It would look more authentic. It’s the least I can do, too. You know. To make up for yesterday.”

Steve feels you staring at him, and he fidgets again. He has no idea what you’re looking for, but he can imagine what you see. The circles under his eyes, the stubble from the few days he hasn’t shaved… he’s a mess. And you got caught up in it just by the bad luck of being his partner on this project.

“Why were you late yesterday, anyway?” You ask finally.

Steve busies himself tearing the label off the side of his coffee cup. “My ex called.”

He watches you go rigid, and for a horrifying moment, he thinks maybe he got this all wrong. Maybe you do see him the way he sees you, and now he’s just admitted that he was late to meet you because of his ex, and--

“We were together for a long time and she has an aunt that’s sick, when she called I--”

“I get it. You don’t have to explain yourself.” The spark he’s used to seeing in your eyes - especially when bantering with him -- is completely gone. He almost wishes Bucky was here to kick his ass.

You go back to organizing your notes, and the moment is gone.

He can’t help but think he’s managed to fuck this up again.

You don’t know why you’re acting like this.

So Steve still keeps in touch with his ex, so what. Why do you care so much? He said it himself, she’s got a sick aunt, and maybe the breakup was amicable, because Steve Rogers is totally that type of guy.

It’s impossible not to like him, as you’re slowly discovering.

You’re annoyed that when he admitted why he was late, it felt like getting doused in cold water. But then-- the look on his face when he saw you deflate a little… what was that about? His eyes were pleading… for what? Understanding?

Your head hurts.

You haven’t even been here for a half hour and Steve is already so far under your skin you’ll be amazed if you get out of this project unscathed.

Steve draws up some quick drafts of the posters for your project and you give him some input here and there, but the conversation is minimal and quiet.

Every now and then you can feel his eyes on you. Those big, sad, blue eyes… you’re just so confused by him. He normally seems so put together, so sure of himself, but now it’s the opposite. You can’t believe that you have something to do with it.

Because you’re no one special, or at least that’s what you think.

You have no idea that Steve would disagree.

A few days go by without any word from Steve.

A quick email is sent to check in on his progress, but that’s it. You don’t know why you feel so gloomy about it.

“What are you thinking about? Steve?” MJ asks, tossing a pillow at you from the bed across from yours.

“What?”

“You know. Tall, blonde, handsome?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not thinking about him.”

She chuckles. “Wow. You suck at lying.”

“He’s probably busy.”

MJ narrows her eyes. “And that doesn’t bother you at all?”

You set your chemistry textbook down with a thump. “Is there a point to this?”

“You like him. You’re both idiots. You should just tell him already and put him out of his misery. Maybe then you can actually get a good grade on this project instead of trying to tiptoe around it.”

“You know what? I’m hungry. I’m going to go to the dining hall.”

You shove on some boots and a jacket and leave before MJ can say anything else that you’re not ready to hear.

On your way, your head is spinning. There’s just no way that Steve likes you. And there’s no way you like him either! You-- you barely tolerate him. You’re from two different worlds… there’s no way it would work.

Besides, it sounds like things are weird with his ex. You have no desire to get in the middle of anything like that.

So lost in your thoughts, you round a corner, and run straight into an absolute brick wall of a man. You almost fall, but your yelp startles him into action and he grabs your arm, yanking you upright.

“Shit,” he curses, “Are you okay?”

“Fine!” You squeak.

“Oh,” He says, “I know you. You’re Steve’s project partner.”

You blink up at him before you recognize him as Steve’s friend, Bucky. “Hi. Sorry about that.”

“No problem.” He frowns. “Aren’t you supposed to be working on that thing with Steve right now?”

It’s your turn to frown. “What are you talking about? I haven’t heard from him all week.” You think the hurt at Steve being basically off the grid after you thought you’d had a breakthrough shows on your face.

Bucky sighs, eyes closing, tipping his head back like the weight of the universe is suddenly on his shoulders. “What an idiot.”

“Excuse me?!”

His eyes fly open. “Not you! Him. Definitely him. Listen, I gotta go.” He takes two steps before turning back to you, his voice suddenly much more serious. “Do me a favor and don’t give up on him, okay?”

“Uh-- okay,” you say, still not really sure what he’s talking about.

He leaves and you go grab some dinner, wondering when the hell your life got this confusing.

The door bursts open and Bucky comes through it, eyes flashing. “You know, I could just strangle you right now.”

Steve glances up from his seat on the couch, thumbing through a paperback he’s already read four times. “What?”

“Tell me why I just, quite literally, ran into your project partner at the dining hall when she’s supposed to be at the library working with you, like you’ve been telling me for the last three days.”

Steve sighs. Bucky continues.

“Also tell me why she looked like someone kicked her puppy when she said she hasn’t heard from you at all this week.”

Steve clenches his jaw. No matter what he does, he keeps fucking this up. He’s not trying to hurt you, or avoid you, it’s the last thing he wants. But he has to get his shit straight before he even thinks about telling you how he feels.

“You’ve been telling me for days that you were going to study with her and finally tell her that you’re crazy about her.” Bucky sits down next to Steve, actually looking a bit angry, and not just amused like he has all the other times before. “Why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

“I had to-- I saw Sharon today.”

Bucky’s eyes darken, “You absolute--”

“I told her I can’t keep seeing her.” When it appears like Bucky is going to hold off on his tirade for now, Steve plows on, “I told her I wanted to be her friend, that I’d be there for her if her Aunt Peggy gets worse, but that’s it. I can’t meet up for coffee, I can’t text her every day like she wants. I ended it, for good this time.”

Bucky still looks suspicious. “She was fine with that?”

“I think she realized that we were still acting like we’re a couple without actually being together.”

“What are you going to do now?”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “I think I have some serious groveling to do. I just didn’t want to say anything without talking to Sharon first. It wouldn’t have been fair to either of them.”

Bucky lays a heavy hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You’re a better person than you give yourself credit for, you know.” A beat. “Sorry for saying I wanted to strangle you.”

Steve laughs.

A knock on the door brings you out of your thoughts, but you make no move to get up. MJ is on her feet anyway, so she pulls open the door and you hear a few murmured words before she turns to you.

“Your friend is here.”

She moves and you see him, looking sheepish as he hovers in the doorway.

“I just remembered I have to meet Peter. To talk about the thing. Be back later.” MJ says, the traitor, and leaves you alone with Steve, who looks a bit lost as he shuts the door behind him and steps inside.

“I can go if you’re busy…” He says quietly.

You shrug. “Didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

Steve’s shoulders slump. “I know. I’m sorry.” He takes a few tentative steps towards you. “Can I sit?”

You shrug again. It figures, now that he’s actually here, you’re unable to string two words together.

“Can I tell you something?” He doesn’t wait for a response. “I was really happy when I saw we were paired together for this project. I-- I thought you hated me, and I like you, so you can imagine how much that sucked.” He hears your quick intake of breath and smiles, but keeps going. “I thought this was my chance. To get to know you, for you to get to know me. But I keep fucking it up.”

You can’t really believe what you’re hearing. Despite yourself, your heart rate picks up.

“I know I-- people think whatever they think about me. That I’m some-- some hero, some perfect person, and I…” he shakes his head, “I’ve never known how to live up to that. But when I actually wanted to be that person around you, I just turned into the biggest asshole on the face of the Earth.”

“Steve, wait.” You interrupt him, unable to handle the look on his face for another second. “We’re both idiots, okay?” Out of instinct, you reach for his hand, your decision solidified when he grips yours right back, no hesitation. “I wasn’t very nice to you either. I didn’t even try to ask if you had something else going on.”

“I’m a control freak and too competitive.” He arches his eyebrows, almost like he’s daring you to contradict him.

“I’m too sarcastic and overreact.”

“I can’t stand the thought of people hating me, so I try to make everyone happy even when it’s impossible.” He says quietly, looking down at your joined hands.

“Your ex?”

“That’s done.” Steve says, and you feel the conviction in his words, giving you the courage you need to meet his eyes again. “It doesn’t make up for the fact that I let my outside stuff influence me enough to be a jerk to you. But it won’t happen again.”

Suddenly, with more confidence than you feel, you stand, tugging Steve to his feet. “Come on, I have an idea.”

Steve follows you in a daze, his brain rapidly trying to process everything that just happened. He apologized, like he should have done weeks ago. He cleared the air with Sharon, like he should have done weeks ago.

He told you he likes you.

You didn’t really respond, but he almost doesn’t care. Because the negative tension that used to be in the air between you is gone, and you’re still holding his hand, tugging him with you to God knows where.

A stop at the coffee cart, and then you’re pulling him into the library. He looks down at you, and you smirk.

“Time to pay up, Rogers. We’re getting an A on this project if it kills us.”

Your voice is decidedly flirty, and Steve sort of feels like he’s been hit over the head with something heavy. That smile aimed at him? Designed to kill.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay.” He agrees, chuckling.

You don’t leave the library until very late.

He holds your hand again on the walk back.

Four days later, you do your presentation with Steve, and even your professor looks amazed at how it goes off without a hitch. The original artwork Steve did to help illustrate your points had people coming up to get a closer look afterwards, and if Steve preens a little at the proud look in your eyes as you glance at him, well who could blame him?

“Let’s get coffee,” he says afterwards, pulling you off to one side. He can’t get over the soft way you’re looking at him, and would do just about anything to spend more time with you today.

He’s still half worried that now that the project is done, you’ll go back to acting like he doesn’t exist.

The coffee shop just off campus is quiet when you get there, and even though you roll your eyes, you agree to let Steve buy your coffee. As he waits for your order, he watches you out of the corner of your eye as you pick a table by the window, the sun hitting your profile, and for a minute he’s totally dumbstruck.

Sitting down across from you, your fingers graze his when he hands you your cup, and he’s about to ask you out, for real this time, when you beat him to the punch.

“I never really responded to what you told me the other night.”

Steve swallows hard, trying to act nonchalant. “Oh?”

You roll your eyes. “I-- god. Stop looking at me like that!”

He can’t help it, he grins. “Like what?”

“Smug. Like you already know what I’m going to say. Do you look at all the girls like that?”

His smile softens. “No. Not all of them.”

Something warm unfurls in Steve’s chest as he watches you take in his words, your entire demeanor turning shy.

“Anyway, like I was saying--” You say, “You told me you liked me.”

Steve feels like his palms are going to start sweating. “I did.”

“I never said anything.”

“No,” he agrees, “You didn’t.”

You shift a little bit, and it sort of makes him hopeful that you seem nervous, even though the last thing he wants is for you to be uncomfortable. “I guess I-- I sort of like you too.”

Steve laughs, “Oh, you guess you sort of like me - my, oh my. How will I ever recover from this romantic confession?” He presses his hand to his heart.

“I take it back - I hate you.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“No, you don’t.” He says, smug. “I think my plan worked.” He leans a little farther over the tabletop so he can grab your hand again.

You snort. “Oh yeah, your plan absolutely worked and definitely didn’t backfire at all.”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Steve says, absolutely in awe of the feeling coursing through him right now. Is this what being smitten is like? It’s probably an old-fashioned thought, but he doesn’t care.

He tugs a little bit on your hand so you’re leaning forward too, and then he’s pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips, holding your hand while his other hand reaches up to cradle your jaw. He thinks if he opened his eyes he would see literal sparks, and sighs when you melt into him.

“There.” He says, voice husky, as you pull apart. “Does that convince you?”

“You’re still a pain in the ass, Steve Rogers.”

“Back at you, honey.”

End

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers au #steve x reader #steve rogers imagine

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frozenprocedural · 4 years ago

Note

Elsarik, 19 and 29

Reposting this picture, because happy (belated!) birthday, Trish! I promised a story, so here it is! (Picture by @comickergirl)

"I want to try cookies."

Anna didn't look up from the computer where she was digitizing old recipes. "You'll have to come back tomorrow. We sold out today."

Alarik sighed. "No, not eating them. Making them. I want to try baking cookies."

That made Anna look up, her eyes narrowed.

"You know I've been given explicit instruction not to let you anywhere near the oven. Not since the Souffle Incident."

"First of all, that was years ago. Second, I want to bake cookies. Those are easier and far less likely to… well…"

"Explode?"

"...Yes. Please, Anna. Elsa's running errands, and I have just enough time to try to surprise her. Do something nice."

Anna huffed and rolled her eyes. "Damn you and your sweetness. Fine, I'll help you."

Alarik grinned and hugged her, prompting another mock sigh before she threw her arms around him and squeezed until he was gasping for air.

"These better be chocolate cookies. Otherwise I'm kicking you out." Anna said when she released him.

"Double chocolate with fudge frosting."

Anna's slap on his back caused him to double over. "Now we're talking! Come on, we've got work to do!"

Nearly an hour later, Alarik stood at the sink, sleeves rolled back to accommodate the neon pink rubber gloves he wore. He could already smell the decadent aroma of the baking cookies as he scrubbed the dishes clean, and couldn't help the smile that crossed his face.

Despite her teasing, Anna had let Alarik do much of the batter-making, although she insisted on choosing the ingredients. Alarik was content with that- Anna knew baking as he knew science. She had coached him with the rest, as patient with him as she was with Neta.

She knew why he wanted to make them.

Alarik stared into the iridescent water, his thoughts drifting back to the day in early September, a day that would forever be imprinted in his memory.

He'd rushed home after Anna called him, saying that she'd forced Elsa to leave early, after finding her vomiting in the back. His calls of Elsa's name echoed in the empty house, until he'd come up to the stairs and seen the light on in the bathroom.

Her back was to him, but she met his eyes in the mirror briefly before dropping them. Even in that flicker of a moment, he could see the shimmer of unshed tears, the fear rising in them.

"Elsa." Soft, low. He kept his distance, but still let her know he was there. She shook at her name, then finally turned so he could see the slim plastic stick clenched in her trembling hands. He knew what it was, and he didn't need to see the lines to know the result.

Pregnant.

Elsa was pregnant.

And she was terrified.

Alarik let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He knew that Elsa had been busy on purpose- she was trying to put her mind off the pregnancy and her fears of being a terrible mother.

Not that Alarik believed even for the smallest fraction of a second that she would be anything but an amazing and loving mother. Convincing Elsa of the fact- and it was fact- was a different matter entirely.

He just hoped the cookies might help, at least a little.

"You know anything that was on that bowl is gone now, right? You've been scrubbing it for the past five minutes." Anna must have seen something in his expression, for she gave him a one-armed hug.

"Keep thinking positive. Keep being supportive. It's what she needs right now, okay?"

Alarik nodded and bumped her with his shoulder, not able to return the hug with wet hands.

"Good. Now finish up. We still need to make the frosting."

………..

Elsa returned to find the lights of The Whisking Star's kitchen on. Not unusual, of course, but she thought Anna would be working on recipes in the front. When she entered, she smelled the familiar delicious scent of baking chocolate, and heard the murmur of Anna and Alarik's voices in the kitchen.

Curious, she pulled on an apron, smoothing it over over her prominent swell before entering the kitchen…

...Whereupon she almost collided with Alarik, who held a tray of cookies in his hands.

"Darling! Hello!" He took a quick step back, his face flushed and, she noticed, splattered with something.

"You know, the frosting is supposed to go on the cookies, not your face." Elsa felt the corners of her lips tugging up on their own accord.

"I… may have had some issues with the pastry bag. Frosting is harder than I thought." From behind him, Anna gave a coughing laugh.

Elsa sighed in mock exasperation and found a nearby towel. She beckoned for Alarik to lean down and dabbed away the offending mark.

"Thank you," he murmured, then set the tray down and picked up a frosted cookie, offering it to her. She accepted it, and took a tentative bite.

It was surprisingly good- rich and chocolatey, but not overly sweet. Alarik's face was nervous, but when she smiled and nodded, he lit up, his grin stretching across his face. He looked like a child being praised for work well done, actually bouncing a bit on his feet. Anna, who'd been watching, clapped him on the shoulder.

"See? I told you there was hope for you yet."

Elsa rolled her eyes. "He's still not allowed in the kitchen unsupervised."

……..

The next morning, Alarik woke to find the space next to him on the bed empty- not unusual, particularly with Elsa's pregnancy waking her at odd hours. He just wished he'd been awake to help ease her back to sleep, if only for a little bit longer. He pushed himself from the bed with a sigh, and wandered out of the room to find her.

Elsa was sitting in the kitchen, the container of cookies Anna had packed the night previous open beside her. When she caught sight of Alarik's raised eyebrow she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Yes I'm eating cookies for breakfast. What are you going to do, arrest me?"

He chuckled, settling into the chair next to hers. "Never. I'm glad you like them." Teasing was good. His hand found hers, and he gave it a squeeze.

Elsa remained quiet for a moment, idly pushing the cookie crumbs around on the plate. Alarik waited, letting her gather her thoughts. Finally, she turned to face him, although her eyes remained fixed on a point beyond his shoulder.

"Thank you. For… for all of this. I know I haven't been the easiest to deal with, especially with… with this." She gestured to her middle.

Alarik took a moment of his own to collect his thoughts and choose his next words. "I can't begin to imagine what this has been like for you. I never will. But I will be here for you, whenever, however you need me to be. The good days and the bad ones. I love you, Elsa. That will never change."

He saw tears collect in the corners of her eyes, and used the thumb of his free hand to brush them away, before sliding it down to cup her cheek. Elsa leaned into his palm, and he pressed his lips to hers.

When they pulled away, Elsa leaned into his side with a sigh, and he wrapped his arm about her waist. She reached out to take another cookie, and he grinned.

"Does this mean I get promoted to baker?"

"Keep dreaming, min gås."

#couragedontdesertme #elsarik #elsa #alarik #the whisking star AU #TWS AU

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elyreywrites · 4 years ago

Text

do you know who you are?

a fic written for Pride Month 2020!! (yes, i know pride month is over, but i posted this on AO3 on June 30th so.) this is a projection fic. it’s not an exact projection of my experience, nor is it meant to be a generalized representation. this isn’t everyone’s experience.

warnings: slight mention of Jack and Janet Drake potentially being homophobic, and discussion of compulsory heterosexuality

thank you to my betas in the Capes & Coffee Discord - Bumpkin, ZulieTheProgrammer, and Oceans!!

title is from Moana’s “I am Moana”!

please REBLOG - DO NOT REPOST

AO3 Link

Teen 1,678 words Bart Allen & Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent slight one-sided Tim Drake/Jason Todd - as in, tiny-Tim has a crush on Robin-Jason

Summary:

He’s twelve and watching Robin fight. He’s seventeen and staring up at the ceiling. He’s nineteen and text-spamming his best friends.

Tim’s growing up and finding himself, and he would really appreciate if the Realizations didn’t happen when he’s trying to sleep. Kon and Bart would probably appreciate that as well.

- - - - -

It starts as he’s watching the second Robin knock out some muggers. It’s not the first time Tim has seen Jason’s Robin take down a group of criminals, but it’s the first time that he nearly gives himself away as he squeaks.

Jason’s so strong, and cool, and pretty, and – oh. Ah. Okay.

He calls it a night at that, bright red from the questions that are swimming around in his head. He spends most of the trip home lost in thought. When he’s sitting on his bed, one of his best pictures of Jason’s Robin sitting in front of him, he gives them a voice. Talking usually helps him get his thoughts in order. “Okay,” he whispers, “do I like boys?” He doesn’t dislike them – not at all. But does he like them? Maybe, but… how is he supposed to know? “Is that too big of a topic?” he wonders aloud to the picture. “Let’s start with this: Do I like Robin? Jason-Robin.”

That doesn’t turn his brain into a jumbled mess like the previous question did. Of course he likes Jason-Robin. He’s absolutely amazing, protecting people and checking on the working girls and kicking criminal ass! He’s only a couple years older than Tim is, but he does so much more! And he’s real in a way Dick isn’t.

Jason’s just a kid like Tim, though they have such different backgrounds. Dick was a trained acrobat, with skills Tim never really believed he could learn. Jason seemed closer. He was still more amazing than Tim could ever hope to be, but it wasn’t an entirely impossible stretch like it was with Dick.

“And he’s so passionate, especially when it’s a kid that’s in danger. And every time he smiles, it just makes me so happy that I kind of want to giggle and—” Tim stops babbling. He doesn’t need to anymore, after basically answering his own question. Yes, he does like Jason Todd, the current Robin. As in, he has a crush on him. Tim falls back on his bed to stare up at the ceiling.

“Well,” he says, “that explains the weird, squirmy feeling I get in my stomach every time I imagine talking to him.” That feeling is always accompanied by a fierce blush and Tim hiding his face for a good two minutes. He thinks he probably should have caught on sooner. Deciding that was enough Realizing Things for the night, Tim quickly locks the picture of Robin up with the rest and collapses on his bed to sleep.

The next day – a Saturday, which is Mrs. Mac’s day off – Tim hops on the computer and starts researching. He has a crush on one boy, but Tim still thinks girls can be cool. Batgirl is pretty awesome, after all! After a few hours and a lot of new information, he settles back on his bed again. He’s bisexual, and sexuality can apparently be really fluid. In all honesty, it didn’t take him hours to find the term, he just fell into a rabbit hole of researching sexual orientation and gender identities. Tim’s fairly secure in his gender, but he’s glad to have learned. It’s something to keep in mind about other people – to not assume anything based on appearances.

He’s bisexual, with a crush on a boy, and his parents will still expect him to only date girls. At least the boy was Robin and completely unattainable.

- - -

Years later, Tim is laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling once again. It’s a different bed by now, in his own apartment at seventeen. The thing is, he’s pretty sure he has no interest in romance. And now his brain was mixing everything up in a tangle of thoughts and feelings again.

“Holding hands is nice,” he admits. “I like cuddling. That was fine.” He hasn’t gone further than making out with anyone, so that’s about the limit of his physical experience. It’s the implication of emotions that makes him want to skitter away. Specifically, emotions of the romantic variety. Now Tim’s reassessing every romantic relationship he’s had, though he’s only ever dated women.

At the time, he had thought he was happy while in each relationship, but… it’s becoming much more likely that it’s because he was previously starved for affection. He suddenly got that affection while dating someone. That thought makes him want to hide from everyone he’s ever dated. Stephanie is the only one he really still has to see, and that has him burrowing under his blankets.

It sounds awful, honestly. Like he was using the relationship to get the affection he so desperately wanted. Logically, he might be overthinking this. He just wishes his dumb brain would tell that to his anxiety and the ingrained societal expectations. “I didn’t mean to,” he mumbled into the blankets.

Romance, dating, being happy in a relationship? He has no other experiences to reference! He didn’t know that something wasn’t right.

Hell, he’s only having this Realization because a woman was flirting with him at a gala and asked if he would like to get dinner together sometime. A romantic dinner date with a woman he wasn’t close to. The entire scenario would be romance with no physical affection, and that didn’t sound pleasant in the slightest. It did, however, make him realize that he might need to think things through again.

So, here he is. Thinking things through. No romance – if he’s remembering his research correctly, the term is ‘aromantic’, similar to ‘asexual’. Asexuality was something he’d heard more about over the years, but he rarely heard of aromanticism. It had just stuck out because while the terms were similar, their meanings were pretty different.

Now he’s glad it stuck in his mind. It gives him less reason to panic about being confused. So, he was bisexual and aromantic. That’s fine! He’s a vigilante, romantic relationships would be difficult anyway.

- - -

A year and a half later, Tim’s fingers fly across the screen of his phone, sending text after text without waiting for a response. Either his friends would wake up or they wouldn’t. Hopefully they would.

Tim: Oh my god. Guys, wake up, I’m an idiot. Bart, Kon, please. I’m so dumb. How the hell am I this oblivious? I’m not bi-aro at all. I’m just fucking gay. It’s 5 am and I can’t sleep, and I just want a boyfriend. I want to do couple things, like cuddle up while watching movies.

Clone Trooper: dude, it’s the middle of the night. why do you do this to us?

Tim feels no sympathy for his friends – he’s been running on less than six hours of sleep for years. Sometimes less than four hours. High school and vigilantism don’t mix well. Anyway, they can deal with waking up to deal with his Realization.

Sonic: bro we cuddle up when we watch movies are we not good enough for you anymore

Tim: Yeah, but that’s platonic, Bart. And yes, I’m aware of the time. I’d like to be asleep too, but I’m lonely and sad and having Realizations! Suffer with me.

Clone Trooper: … suffer how? are you expecting us to have an existential crisis too, or is this just suffering by being awake?

Tim: Being awake. It’s not an existential crisis, it’s just a Realization.

Sonic: its the middle of the night i think it can be deemed an existential crisis

Tim: But seriously, someone please tell me how I jumped passed the logical conclusion I should have come to of “I’m just not attracted to women” and directly to “I have no interest in romance at all”? How did that make sense to me?

Sonic: society conditioned u to like women

Tim blinks at his screen. Bart isn’t wrong, but Tim has absolutely no idea where he’s going with that. He already had the Realization about societal conditioning, thanks.

Tim: Okay? I’m aware, but I’m not sure how that translates to how I didn’t think of the logical conclusion.

Sonic: dude. for years it was a fact – since you were a kid u were so conditioned that u should like women it was just a fact

Clone Trooper: think of it like this, tim: as far as you knew, you liked women. later, you figured out you like guys, but you still think you like women too.

Tim: We’ve established, yeah.

Clone Trooper: so, suddenly something is weird. the only really new thing is that there is romance involved. so that’s clearly gotta be the issue.

Oh. He stares so long the screen goes dark. He drops his phone on the bed and stares up at the ceiling, turning that over in his head. So. He jumped to not wanting romance because it was so deeply ingrained that he was supposed to like women? His exhausted brain seems to accept this explanation enough to calm the edge of self-recriminations.

Tim: That. Makes sense, I guess. But still, it really seems like I should’ve realized a while ago. Also, I’m kind of surprised that you aren’t teasing me for being oblivious.

Sonic: oh thats coming but teasing is saved for when u arent having a crisis

Clone Trooper: later, we’ll absolutely laugh about that jump in logic. but right now it’s too early and you’re already having A Time.

He’s not sure if he has wonderful friends or terrible friends. Tim suspects that he’s still going to hear about this in a few years. It’s the kind of thing they won’t let die for a while.

Tim: Fair enough.

Clone Trooper: great, glad we got that cleared up! now tim...

Tim: What?

Clone Trooper: please. GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP.

Snickering, Tim plugs his phone in and smothers his face in the pillow. He’s still lonely and he still wants to analyze every missed evidence over the years, but he’s also exhausted. The chat with his friends did get his brain to shut up enough that he might actually be able to sleep. He can rethink his entire life again after he wakes up.

#fanfiction #elyrey writes things #tim drake #kon-el #conner kent #bart allen #friendship #lgbtq themes #lgbtq character #self-discovery #coming out #pride month 2020 #dcu

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slouchingprovocatively · 5 years ago

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saraluvstiva replied to your post “reposted gifs suck and you need to stop doing it”

Hi!! I was wondering if you could explain how someone (me) might know if we are doing this or not doing this? I know making gifs is not easy and I want to make sure I give credit and am being respectful to users who take time to make them! I also don’t know how to use gifs all that well and have noticed that my selection is very limited.

okay so @saraluvstiva asked me this and i rambled out a very bad answer in the replies lol so i’m gonna answer it again here with some pictures to demonstrate what i mean lmao words are hard i’m deep in academic description for uni i can’t make sentence

but thank you for wanting to credit people!! that’s awesome!

first, i think everyone’s totally fine with people reposting gifs as reaction gifs and not crediting the op. we all forget where reaction gifs came from, they’re just in a giant folder on our computers that we’ve had since 2010. in that case, a gif of a character sobbing on a reblog of an emotional text post or a cute gif of someone smiling under a nice ask, i think we can all say we’re pretty cool with

what’s annoying, is when people actively repost gifs as photo posts with no credit, and kinda imply they made the gif. if you don’t recognise the gif then it’s easy to mistake it for the reposter’s, rather than someone else’s that they’ve taken. it’s frustrating whether it’s one gif just posted and captioned like the reposter made the gif, or a whole hodgepodge of gifs taken from many original gifsets and squished together despite mismatching height, colour, style, etc. the worst is when someone reposts a gif with a watermark, i’m like, uh we can see that, and yet reposters and even just people who reblog it who don’t notice the watermark are like wow what a gif

in all of these, the main issue anyone has with reposting is the lack of credit. which is super easy to do!!

so, for instance:

the gif is posted as a photo post, with no credit given, and the caption implies that the reposter made the gif because they noticed the thing. even without the caption, there’s no disclaimer that the gif isn’t the reposter’s.

a nicer way to repost would be:

ie, crediting the original poster, but also making the gif part of a text post, rather than a photo post in which, say, someone reblogging and commenting “hey, that’s my gif”, can be missed due to original reblogs preceding it and the blank repost going around first (this can still happen on text posts obvs, but the person shouldn’t need to comment if they’ve been credited lol)

also, it’s so much easier to just reblog gifsets than repost them! i’m not saying this to people who occasionally post a gif uncredited i mean people i see who repeatedly repost and repost and i know they’re getting the gifs from the original blog. reblog = one button. just one. boop, it’s done. to repost means you save it, you upload it, you tag and caption and pretend it’s yours, and then you post. it’s so much effort, and often, at least i can tell right away. like, i can spot an @alyssinmymind or a @classydepablo gif in a second. they have distinct styles i can identify super quickly, so if i see their gifs coming from another blog and people are thinking the reposter made the gif, i know it’s not right.

and a final thing in terms of how you can know if someone’s reposted; if you’re not sure if a gif is a repost or not, the best thing to do is check the person’s post and look at their tags. most gifmakers use tv edit tags ie “#ncisedit”, and a personal edit tag ie “#mine” or “’#mygifs” or sometimes just an asterisk. if you’re still not sure, it’s not always a surefire way, but look at the gifs they’ve posted. if they all look similar in colour, captioning, sharpening, they’ve probably all been made by the same person; if they have variations, so, some are captioned in a totally different font, some are very smooth while some are really grainy, and they don’t have an edit tag, they’re very probably a reposter.

i hope this makes it clearer!! i said the word reposter a billion times and got a bit carried away, but truthfully, as a gifmaker it’s really frustrating to both have your stuff stolen and see other people’s stuff stolen, but as someone who also used tumblr as a complete newbie with no photoshop skills, i also reposted gifs uncredited because i wanted to contribute to the fandom and didn’t know how else to do it. and i soon realised it’s pretty sucky and the original posts have 1,000 notes there’s really no point in trying to pretend i made them lmao

anyway just

be chill, don’t repost, we’re all here for tony and ziva

#saraluvstiva #i still rambled i'm sorry!!! seriously thank you for asking and i really appreciate your effort to credit people and learn <3 #and nope i don't know where that last gif came from lmao my point about reaction images is proved

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