#now cue the ''hope i got her right'' anxiety that always hits with friend's characters xD

[queen-scribbles]

Breather

Oh, look, another @speakergame​ fic for Phillip. It’s only fair, right? Callie has one with Delia and one with Sebastian, so now Phillip has one with Steph and one with Rory. EQUALITY. :P (vaguely spoiler-adjacent, technically, for the end of the last update.)

----

The human body did have its limits, and no amount of dread or determination could overrule them forever. So while rotating drivers meant they didn’t have to stop overnight on their dash back to Nivio, back to people who could help, who would know what was wrong with Stephanie(and, by extension, him), they would have to make brief pauses at a couple rest stops along the way.

They made it an hour or so into Colorado before the first one. While part of Phillip chafed at the delay, the part that desperately needed a breather, needed to stretch his legs kept him from going insane. He and Steph (and Lily) were all too familiar with the importance of not sitting too long, but under the circumstances he almost wished they were pushing “too long” even further than they already had.

So he paced. Rapid, driven figure-eights around a pair of empty weather-beaten picnic tables, occasionally widening to loop a nearby clump of prairie grass. Arms crossed, head... somewhere. There was too much on his mind for a specific chain of thought.

He was so drowning in that too much he almost walked slap-bang into Rory.

She rocked back on one heel with a sound that was almost a yelp to avoid their collision, then grinned. “Okay, much as I would have deserved that, I do come in peace.” She held up a pair of small crinkly orange and white bags. “With snacks.”

One side of his mouth made a brief attempt at a sheepish smile and he raked one hand through his hair. “Sorry. And thanks, but I’m not really hungry.”

Rory shrugged and tucked the bag she’d offered in the pocket of her flannel shirt. “Alright, more for me.” She plunked down on one of the picnic tables, feet braced on the bench seat, and had the other bag tugged open before she paused to look at him. “Unless you wanna be alone with whatever thoughts have you all.... like that.” She swirled a hand in a general encompassing gesture toward him and Phillip couldn’t help huffing a small laugh.

“Nah, you’re fine,” he assured her, voice still hoarse and breaking from the aftermath of Cammore. He’d kill for another good cup of tea.

Rory nodded and fished a pretzel nugget out of the bag. “Okay, 'cause I saw you over here by yourself an’ thought you might want company, but just realized some people like to be alone sometimes, so I don’t wanna intrude if you’re one of those people. ‘Specially with all the shit you have going on right now."

This time he couldn’t stop a full laugh. “I am one of those people, but this is not one of those times. I just needed room to pace. Your- Company’s prob’ly a good thing; distract from the radio static in my head.”

She wrinkled her nose sympathetically and tossed the pretzel nugget in the air, leaning sideways to catch it in her mouth. “Well, then, I’m happy to distract you, Phillip.”

He liked the way she said his name, barely managed to keep from saying so in his frazzled, sleep-deprived state. “Thanks."

Rory studied him as he paced and she chewed. “I’d say you can take a seat, but after all that time in a car, you probably wanna stretch those long legs, huh?”

“Yeah.” Especially with Lily driving and Sebastian up front again; he’d been squished in one of the back end seats with Steph practically in his lap. Not a bad thing, given the circumstances, but still very cramped. (He decided not to overthink long legs. His height was pretty obvious and he’d already blushed far too much around this woman to be reading extra meaning into things she said. Even if she did think it was cute.)

Despite the mention of distraction, neither of them spoke through his next couple figure eights. Rory made a good show of catching the pretzel nuggets each time she flicked one in the air. Phillip’s pacing showed as he watched.

“See something you like?” Rory teased when she caught him and his ears started burning immediately.

“No- I mean, that’s not...” Phillip groaned and suppressed the urge to yank his jacket’s hood up over his face. “You’re good at that” --a nod toward the snack bag--”and I-I’m impressed.”

“With my snack-catching skills?” She grinned. “Fitting, I guess, huh? Considering the whole.... were-something thing..”

He laughed. “Hadn’t thought of that.”

Rory cocked her head, fiddling with the next pretzel nugget a moment before tossing it up. “Whatever it is, I hope it’s something cool.” She flicked the pretzel nugget up and leaned forward to catch it.

Phillip shrugged. “I think it’s cool in general, whatever your animal form winds up being.” He didn’t mention the year in elementary school he’d spent wishing he was a werecat instead of a Speaker. They hadn’t known each other quite long enough for that. Yet.

“Aw, you’re sweet,” she said with a light laugh. “So. How ‘bout you?” She picked out another pretzel.  “How’re your snack catching skills?”

“I do alright,” he said, a brief smile tugging his lips. “Better’n my sister, anyway.”

Rory’s grin widened and she patted the table next to her. “Lemme see.”

Phillip only hesitated the barest second before taking her up on the playful challenge. He sat next to her--closer than he normally would have to avoid what looked like bird droppings--and took the bag of snacks she passed him.

The first one he caught. Second one bounced off his nose but did go in his mouth. Third one he missed because Rory was giggling about the second one.

The fourth one he leaned so far back to catch she had to grab his arm to keep him from falling off the table. The fifth one, at least, was a clean catch that allowed him to reclaim some of his dignity.

“See?” Phillip mumbled around the mouthful of pretzel and cheese.  “I’m okay, but not as good as you.”

“Mmhm,” Rory laughed as she balled up her snack bag and tucked it in her pocket. “I did see.”

Phillip half-smiled in answer to the twinkle in her hazel eyes, rubbing the back of his neck. He wished this could just be what it looked like; sitting on a rest stop picnic table with a pretty girl, goofing off with snack food and not minding how silly they looked. But his throat was still sore and he could see Rory’s scars and couldn’t quite forget the shaken, pissed look in Steph’s, or that Lily didn’t know what was going on.

The distraction had been nice while it lasted.

“Thanks,” he said softly, fishing out another pretzel and eating it normally. 

“Don’t mention it.” Rory raked a hand through her hair, curls tumbling even more helter-skelter behind the motion. She nudged his knee with her own. “Least I can do after how much you’ve all helped me.”

Phillip opened his mouth to protest, but just then Samson trotted over and stuck his head against the hand not holding a mostly empty bag of pretzels. Phillip’s first instinct was something happened to Stephanie, but a quick glance showed her in conversation with Sebastian and Az and seemingly just fine. (Considering) So he scritched Samson’s ears instead as he commented to Rory, “You say that like you haven’t done anything else to help.” 

“Well, you did save my life and all,” she said with a shrug. “And I gotta wonder what the dreaming about you thing means, so call it curiosity coupled with gratitude.”

“Just don’t want you thinking you owe us or anything...” His voice started cracking again and he let the end trail off.

Rory flashed him a sympathetic smile. “Maybe you should hold off on the talking?”

“Leave it all to you?” Phillip asked hoarsely, glad the playful intent still carried in the words.

“Well, I am good at it,” she laughed. 

He nodded and smiled and scratched under Samson’s chin, watching black wisps drift off the dog’s rapidly wagging tail. 

They lapsed into silence a moment before Rory started humming. Phillip cocked his head a few bars in, vaguely recognizing the tune.

“That’s a song,” he mumbled, more to Samson than Rory, but she still paused.

“Uh-huh.”

Way to state the obvious, his thoughts jibed. “No, I mean, I know it, but don’t remember from where...” His hand stilled on Samson’s neck a moment later. “Cammore. When...” I was screaming myself hoarse. “You sang it while you were sitting with me.”

Rory’s brows arched and she leaned forward to brace her forearms against her knees. “Wow, yeah. You heard that?”

“Not... really?” Phillip said slowly. “It’s more an... impression than a memory, if that makes sense? Like, I don’t remember the words or anything but the melody’s familiar?”

She nodded and grinned. “Oh, good, I don’t have to worry about my singing voice scaring you off.”

“That wouldn’t be a risk anyway,” he mumbled, not realizing it had been out loud until her grin widened.

“Charmer,” she winked. “But yeah, you’d been screaming and I'd been babbling and sorta... ran out of things to say for a minute, and it seemed like a good idea?”

“What song was it?” Phillip resumed petting Samson at an irritated wuff(which came from behind him rather than by his knee).

“Welsh lullaby,” Rory said. She ran a hand through her hair again. “I dunno, a lullaby seemed fitting, somehow.”

“Well, if I heard it enough for it to make an impression, seems like it helped.”

“Good point.”

He hesitated a moment before asking, “Could you teach me?”

“What, the lullaby?”

“Yes, and, um, Welsh in general, too?”

She shrugged. “Dunno how good a teacher I’ll be, but we can give it a shot.” A teasing grin split her face, crinkling scars and freckles alike. “Do you actually wanna learn, or is this a way of spending time with me? ‘Cause you don’t need an excuse for that.”

“...Both?” God, he’d love to blame the way the word squeaked on his half-gone voice, but from the heat climbing his neck, that was no more than partly to blame.

Rory bit her lip, graciously holding back whatever remark had sprung to mind, and tugged one of her curls. “Your honesty is appreciated. So, you like languages? Not many people out there with a burning desire to learning Welsh for the heck of it. "

Phillip nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah. Aside from English I only speak Russian and maybe a smattering of Spanish and Latin, but I’ve been wanting to learn another for a while.”

“Russian?” She arched a brow.

He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a long story.”

“Ah. Well, it looks like it’s one you’ll have to tell me back in your town.” Rory craned her neck to look toward where the others were all congregating in the direction of the cars and her motorcycle. “Seems the break’s over.” She squeezed his knee as she pushed to her feet and hopped down. “C’mon, Prince Charming, time to hit the road.”

Right. The road back to Nivio. To figure out what the hell was going on.

She’d done a very good job distracting him from that. It was blessing enough he wouldn’t question the nickname. (yet.) But reality could only be ignored or avoided for so long, and in this case especially there could be serious consequences for pushing it too far.

So Phillip climbed down from the table with a sigh and whistled for Samson to follow as he headed back to his car. It was his turn to drive, and he didn’t want to waste any time.

There was one last pretzel nugget in the bag when he went to crumple it, and he pulled it out to eat before throwing the bag away. No point wasting and besides--he waved at Rory as her bike purred to life--every little bit helped.

(He didn’t just mean the snacks.)

[gojoscloset]

Damaged goods

Suna Rintarou x Fem!Reader Pt. 1

Suna confesses to reader who still dwells on their trauma

WARNINGS:

Brief mentions of Sexual trauma

Bad words

Not edited

Mayhaps really out of character

Self indulgent

Angst

Word count: 3k+

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“Her?!”

“Yeah, her.” Suna confirmed, sharp eyes watching your expressions change as you interacted with your friends quite a few lunch tables away.

“Ha! Yeah, good luck Rin. I heard She’s prude as fuck” his friend patted Suna’s shoulder in a rough yet playful way. “I‘ve been school mates with her since intermediate, no good. She’s never dated anyone, rejects any confessions thrown her way, and immediately rejects people’s advances. You’re booking a room at the Heartbreak hotel if you’d ask me.”

“I didn’t ask, but thanks for looking out.” He didn’t expect his friend to react so negatively, immediately he changed the topic, no longer wanting to speak of you if it wasn't praise. Either way,Suna couldn't care less about who you rejected and why they got rejected. At the end of the day, they weren't him, and they didn’t know you.

___

You unknowingly planted a ‘parasite’ in Suna’s mind, as he likes to call it. He recalls the exact moment in which you were no longer blurred in the background, but right in his face the whole time; a small act of kindness that rotted his brain away with how much he thought about it.

He started noticing how frequent you two run into each other after the first ‘encounter’, now he quietly and stealthily looks your way in hopes of possibly catching you doing another kind act. Much to Suna’s surprise, he had the privilege of witnessing your integrity on multiple occasions which only made him want to be closer to you.

Of course he never initiated anything, nor did he make the effort to speak to you. He felt there really was no proper way to approach you without it being awkward in his eyes. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to initiate conversation?

“Hey, I have seen you do kind things for others and now I want to get to know you?”

“Hello, I saw you pay for someone’s items one time and now i can’t stop thinking about you, i’m Suna Rintaro”

Thoughts that kept him up sometimes. Thoughts that took up the free space in his mind until they started to affect his little day to day routines. It scared him to see himself willingly want to do things for you that were completely out of character. You. A person he only got to see a glimpse of, maybe that's what kept his infatuation burning. To think that the light that radiated from you was just what seeped through the cracks, a sample of who you really were, he only got a little taste and he was feening for more.

Suna was a quiet man, but he could only keep his head in the clouds for so long before someone noticed.

“So, what’s been on your mind?” Kita pulled him to the side after practice one day and that’s when he spilled everything to Kita. Kita himself was surprised yet honored to see this vulnerable side of Suna.

With a little encouragement from his teammate, he decided to tell you how he felt. He of course asked Kita and Aran for assistance,as they were the most level-headed members of the team and his friend group. They suggested the letter method opposed to the DM method Suna insisted would ‘be a lot easier’ to do. But they weren’t going to let him be a coward. “Things such as romance shouldn’t be done half-assed.” Kita damn near scolded him and reluctantly Suna obliged.

Somehow the twins caught wind of the plan, and decided they would be there while he confessed, in hiding of course. And after dragging Kita and Aran along, despite their protests and mentions of violating Suna’s privacy, the gang was somehow all there.

——

He practiced this very moment countless times in his head even preparing for rejection.

“Suna-San..'' you looked up from the envelope he handed you, you stared directly into his eyes, various forms of negative emotions displayed on your own face causing his anxiety to shoot through the roof, but the smile you gave him afterwards alleviated it just a tad.

‘Heartbreak Hotel…’ His friend's words repeated in his mind and Suna wondered if maybe he made a mistake, even if he barely said anything, did his actions come off too strong?

“...I am flattered, I really am…” You chuckled a bit, hiding the lower half of your face with the letter, slightly embarrassed but really flattered.

Oh how He wished you hadn’t done that. He wanted to see how you beamed because of him, even if the rejection would follow afterwards, he wished that smile reached him.

“But please don’t waste your time on me.” You laughed, examining the envelope, not looking at him while your fingers traced the large red heart sticker that sealed the confession.

He took the hit like a man, understanding that not everyone was going to like him in that way and rejection in life was inevitable, but he wasn’t going to let this go so easily, not when it came to you. Not when you called it a waste of time.

You were grateful that Suna didn’t do this in front of everyone, like all the others, Blissfully unaware that the devils were in the details and said devils were actually listening in and cheering for Suna silently on the other side of the lockers.

There were a million things Suna wanted to say but he couldn’t choose what to say in time before things went awkwardly silent. You couldn’t look at him for long before you shyly turned away, once again covering your face as you laughed.

“Thank you though.. but yeah… I’ll see you tomorrow in class?” You took a step to the side to walk past him, but before you managed to get away he took a step in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.

He gave you a serious look once he finally grasped onto something to say , there wasn’t any hidden anger in his gaze, much to your relief.

“Pursuing you isn't a waste of my time.” He said plainly, his cool demeanor never wavered but internally his heart was doing flips. You were not expecting this kind of reaction honestly. Everyone else you had rejected always took it like a bitch, utterly offended and of course left you hurt with the slew of insults they used to mask their pain and to get back at you on their way out.

But not Suna, he had patience and was understanding. It hurt you that you had to reject him, but you couldn’t do that to him, not when you were still… fucked.

“That’s ‘cause you don’t even know me.” Your laugh was a pained one, and your fight or flight senses kicked in, he was stretching the moment as much as possible and it made you nervous.

“I know enough to know I want more.” he replied.

“And that’s a mistake on your end.” You snapped but you didn’t mean to. Your hands began to shake and your voice was beginning to crack under the pressure. You knew he meant no harm in prying, but you wished he would have reacted the way all the others have since It would have been easier to escape the situation.

His heart was heavy, but obviously not as heavy as yours.

“Look, Suna” you began, exhaling deeply. Your eyes finally met his. “I’m what they call damaged goods, okay? I won’t be able to give you what you want. Relationships require things that are difficult for me to give, and I think it’s best you trash the idea.” Your voice was small but the meaning behind your words was not.

“What is it that's required?” His hand rubbed the back of his neck, the nerves finally hitting him breaking his chill character. “Y-you never know..M..maybe you don’t have to give it to me...”

Your brows were knit together, confused at how oblivious he was. Did he really not get it? Or was this all an elaborate prank?

You opened up your mouth to speak but before you could mutter anything out, Kita came from around the corner, immediately you shoved the letter into your back pocket. Little did you know the letter was their doing. Well, Mainly Aran and Kita.

“Oh, there you are Rin. I hope I’m not intruding in anything, but we can’t start practice without you.”

Kita gave you a nod and a small smile, you returned the nod, and attempted with the smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes as it normally would.

Suna had a confused look on his face, but he played along. “Right…. “ He muttered, turning to look at you. You stared back at him but you were the first one to break eye contact

“Do your best at practice..I’ll see you around.” You whispered and quickly saw yourself out.

——

Atsumu, Osamu, and Aran stepped from the other side once Kita gave them the cue.

They rushed to Suna’s side, immediately bombarding him with praise and encouragement, and Suna hated it. He didn’t mean to feel this way, but Suna knew the praise came from a place of pity, it was etched on their sad smiles. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, even if he knew they were just trying to help.

Practice went on as it normally would, Suna was quieter though, as expected. He let his mind wander, the scene replaying in his head, trying to ping the exact moment where he messed up.

Kita pulled him to the side once again after practice.

“You are no coward.” Kita gave him a reassuring smile, Suna couldn’t return it though.

“It feels like I am.” He took a seat on the steps outside, Kita following suit.

“It’s understandable why you feel that way, romance is nothing easy. But you did what you could out there, you should be proud of yourself.” Kita threw in another one of his smiles but Suna wasn’t even looking his way, his mind everywhere but here.

Kita continued, knowing Suna was probably not going to say much to him. “ But the reason I pulled you aside today was to explain why I intervened. It seems that what she said went way over your head and I couldn’t continue to listen to you unknowingly pry.”

With those words Suna was thrown back to planet earth. He snapped his head in Kita’a direction, visible uncertainty in his eyes.

“It was when l/n talked about being ‘damaged goods’ and about what she couldn’t give you in a relationship.” Kita looked at Suna, searching his eyes to see in case the lightbulb finally flicked on. But it didn’t so he continued.

“I’m in a place I don’t belong, but Rin, I’m pretty sure she was referring to trauma...whether it be sexual or not, I suggest you refrain from prying.”

The cogs in Suna’s mind finally began to spin. He was able to put the pieces together and see the entire image for what it was. It made him sad to think that you referred to yourself as ‘damaged goods’ because of your past. He wanted to doubt the possibility, but the pieces to the puzzle fit all too well for it to be anything else.

Not only that- Kita, being as intuitive as he was, was usually never wrong about these kinds of things, nor would he lie to Suna. Especially about something like that.

He then remembered the ‘warning’ his friend gave him that one day. A wave of disappointment rushed through him knowing that his ‘friend’ made assumptions about you whilst being completely oblivious to the truth.

All of these things ran through his mind at a million miles per second. “Are you okay?” Kita snapped him out of his trance, he didn’t realize he hadn’t moved or said anything since he put it all together.

“Yeah.” He stood up and walked down the remainder of the concrete steps, Kita following his lead. “I’m heading home. Uhh...thanks for looking out, even if things didn’t go as planned” Suna rubbed the back of his neck and turned to watch Kita walk down the remainder of the steps

“And thank you for confiding in me, even though somehow the twins caught wind of it all.” They both chuckled at the last part.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, and chin up. You did your best” Kita waved him goodbye and headed home. Suna gave him a wave and headed home himself. Even though he got his feelings for you off his chest, he still felt like he couldn’t breathe. Like somehow the weight on his shoulders had increased.

—-

Reading the letter fucked you up. Of course it made your heart skip a beat, but it also made you hate yourself for familiar reasons.

Paragraph after paragraph of nothing but praise. You hated how you couldn’t see any of the things he said in yourself.

You fucking hated how being touched by someone without consent changed your entire life. You hated how much influence your past had on your future.

Moments like these and confessions like this made you question if you would ever live the life you wanted.

The concepts of marriage, children, sex, and almost all forms of physical intimacy made you cringe and shiver in disgust.

Things you once desired became things you hated, all because someone else fucked them up for you.

—

“Are you okay?...” your best friend, Hanako, asked as she looked up from the envelope you opened cautiously so as to not mess up the sticker.

You nodded, no longer having the energy to speak after all the crying. You didn’t even look at her while she asked, you just sat on your bed, staring at the wall mindlessly playing with the fur of one of your blankets.

“Your feelings are valid, I hope you know.” She rubbed soothing circles on your back and again you nodded, wiping your eyes again.

“It just sucks ya know? Because I want this so bad, but who the fuck is going to want to wait around for me? Imagine getting in a relationship with someone you can’t be intimate with because they’re scared. Like great, what a waste of their time.” You shook your head and went back to playing with the fur.

“None of those things are true, and the real world is wayyyy different. There are people out there who are patient and understanding and there is more to love than what you know. Trust me, take it from someone who’s graduated and has a little taste of real life .” She placed a hand on your shoulder and shook it playfully, trying to get you out of your funk.

“It doesn’t feel that way.” You muttered under your breath

“You feel this way only because you haven’t fully healed. And I don’t blame you y/n… the things you underwent require a lot of healing so please take as much time as you need and go easy on yourself.....” she grabbed your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

There wasn’t much left you had to say, but Hanako stayed by your side a while longer, watching a movie she knew was your fave to try and ease the pain. She had been here with you many times before and she would do it again and again because she loved you and wanted you to love yourself.

Hanako left long after the sun had set, she would’ve spent the night but she knew you had class the following morning.

But you couldn’t go to sleep, instead you reread the letter. Reading the paragraphs that made you feel like you were actually worth someone’s time over and over again.

‘There hasn’t been a day since that you don’t cross my mind. What started off as curiosity became something more. Your kind heart connected with that smile, that laugh, that face, It became too much for me to bear, I couldn’t go another day without telling you.’

Tears fell onto the paper, and you were quick to use your shirt to dab away the tears, not wanting to mess up the effort he put into it. After rereading the letter for what seemed to be the thousandth time, you decided it was time for bed.

After doing your routine you headed for bed, but as soon as your head hit the pillows your phone buzzed multiple times.

‘@2501Suna Sent you a message request’

‘Hey I know it’s late but’

‘It didn’t register to me what u meant by damaged goods until way after’

‘I’m sorry I’m kind of a dummy’

‘I didn’t mean to pry’

‘or make u uncomfortable’

‘And forgive me if I’m speaking in a place I’m not welcome’

‘But if what I think happened, happened’

‘I still stand by what I said in the letter’

‘And u are still deserving of love’

‘Have a Goodnight and see u tomorrow (^:’

He seemed to press enter with every Sentence causing your phone to buzz continuously.

You read the messages as they came in real time and just when you thought you’d stopped crying, fresh tears seeped out again.

You didn’t have much to say so all you did was double tap the messages, little hearts appearing at the bottom of each one, your way of showing your appreciation without having to say anything.

It was crazy to think that you had plagued someone's mind like Suna claimed you did. Even in the late night he still thought of you and considered your feelings, and even if you did reject him, Suna didn’t look for ways to kill the ‘parasite’ in his brain. If anything it fed it more.

You couldn’t help but smile at the messages, even if the horrendous self doubt clouded your mind, it was his efforts and his own kind heart that parted the clouds for you, you basked in the feeling, even if it was just for the moment.

A/N:

Trauma does not define you

Trauma does not get to influence your choices

Love is real

& Love is out there for you

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[giuliafc]

Panic Attack

Written by: JuliaFC

Betas: Khanofallorcs, Agrestebug, Etoile-Lead-Sama, Genxha and NalaFontaine. Thank you all so much!

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by (c) Thomas Astruc, TS1 Bouygues, Disney Channel, Zagtoon, Toei Animation. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Written for the Facebook h/c group “Hurt/Comfort Italia - Fanart and Fanfiction - GRUPPO NUOVO | Groups | Facebook”, weekend challenge, “Atonement 2.0”. I was asked to write a *coughs* drabble about character A being stuck somewhere and character B having to help them. If you speak/read Italian and are interested in the genre, join us! We’ll be glad to see you! 

oOoOoOoOoOo

She knew it wasn’t a good idea. It really, really wasn’t a good idea. Her guts had warned her. She had felt a very bad sensation in the pit of her stomach and a growing sense of anxiety the more she tried to convince herself that it was okay. That it was only a boat, that they were safe. That it was a hot and sunny afternoon, that Bois de Boulogne was full of people and nothing could have really happened. 

When Adrien had said that he had never rowed a boat before, Alya had winked at her. Her friend had poked her in the ribs saying, “That’s a great idea, Sunshine! Let’s rent two. Nino and I will take one, and you and Marinette the other!” 

Marinette had tried her best to not think too much of it, or rather she had tried her best to not have a panic attack because she was going to go on a boat, alone, with Adrien. He was going to row and it was going to be all so romantic and she wanted to die. 

Because even though he had now made it clear that he wasn’t in a relationship with Kagami, so Marinette knew she wasn’t betraying her friend’s trust, he was still her crush. She had tried so hard to move on. She had genuinely tried to reciprocate Luka’s feelings. However, the trip to New York they had been on two months ago had given her time to reflect and the heart to heart she had with Luka upon her return had cemented their break up. She couldn’t deny the feelings she had for Adrien anymore. She loved him too much to let him go.

They had been alone, facing each other as they sat in the small boat. Adrien had been happily rowing. The silence between them had been deafening. Her insides had been melting every time he had been giving her one of those looks; those looks that he had always given her, but that strangely enough had become more intense and more languid since they had that dance under the moonlight in New York. Her face was so red that she started fearing the colour would become permanent. 

And then, of course, it had to happen. The loud bang echoed in the air like a clap of thunder. The akuma appeared out of nowhere and started billowing gusts of wind all around, making the water of the river sway in big waves and the boat they were in began swinging dangerously. Marinette saw Adrien putting the oars down and clenching his hands on the boat while looking at her worriedly.

“Are you okay, Marinette? Can you manage?” he said. 

She nodded. “Yes, it’s an akuma. We need to find a way to get to safety and hide.”

The akuma had the shape of an enormous swan; it had walked through from the back of the park and now started uttering high pitched squeals. “You won’t disturb the flora and the fauna of this park any longer!” it screamed. The bird twirled its neck and started flapping its wings, creating wind that was becoming stronger and stronger. 

Marinette was panicking. She knew she had to find a hiding place and transform but she couldn’t do that because she was in the most exposed location possible, in the middle of a river, and she couldn’t go anywhere or hide from the view. She couldn't even hide inside the boat, because Adrien was with her.

Adrien must have misinterpreted her pallor, because he moved one of his hands and grabbed Marinette’s arm, holding it firmly. “I’ve got you,” he shouted, trying to make his voice heard through the wind. But Marinette couldn't answer because the wind suddenly picked up even stronger and their boat, together with a few more, was captured by a column of what looked like water mixed with wind and they felt like they were floating in mid air. Then it all happened very fast: the boat (with them inside) rose higher and higher, and the downblast of wind threw everything around. Marinette felt Adrien’s body wrapping around hers protectively, and next thing she knew, she was slammed down on the ground somewhere and lost consciousness from the impact.

oOo

It took her a couple of minutes to open her eyes again, and when she did, her gaze was met with darkness. She didn’t know what was going on, but she felt that she had something very heavy pressing on her body and she could hardly breathe under its weight. Slowly, her eyes got accustomed to the darkness and she started making out the shapes of the things around her. 

She seemed to be… underneath the boat? Yes, she could actually see the top part of one of the oars that Adrien had been using to row the boat just millimetres from her temple. She tried to move to push the boat up, but soon realised that the heaviness was actually clenched, almost wrapped around her body. She tried to detangle her arms from underneath the heavy load, so that she could move and touch around to understand where she was, and as she did that, she had a horrible thought going through her mind. 

“Tikki!” she whispered. The red and black kwami had been resting inside her small purse, but now Marinette didn’t know where her purse was.

“Shhhh!” she heard the voice of the small kwami whisper into her ear. “I’m okay, Marinette, but you’re stuck under the boat and a whole load of branches and trees.”

Marinette’s eyes opened wide. “Oh no! I don’t have time for this,” she growled. “Damn Akuma! We need t—” she started saying but Tikki put her little paws on her mouth, then flew back to her ear and whispered, “You’re not alone, Marinette!” 

“Wha—” she started, and as she did that, she felt something moving on her chest, right between her breasts.

“Uuuuuuh what happened?” She couldn’t be mistaken. This was Adrien’s voice. 

“Adrien?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Marinette? Where are you?” She felt something moving from her side and she thought that probably Adrien had moved a hand to his head, maybe rubbing the nape of his neck. Or maybe he was just massaging his head where he must have gotten hit when they landed on the ground. She could feel a tender spot on her own head too, just on the top of her left ear. Then she felt the pressure of limbs trying to detangle from the top of her and something started to feel and squeeze her chest. 

She immediately tensed, her eyes going wide as her face felt suddenly hotter than ever. “S-stop. Now!” she managed to say and felt him freeze on top of her and what was frantically touching her all over stopped immediately. 

“Sorry, I was trying to figure out what I was laying on.” 

Oh God, could he hear the furious beating of her heart? Of all the scenarios she had dreamed of in her mind of Adrien checking her out, being stuck under a boat buried under a load of trees definitely wasn’t one. She was cold. And sore. And an akuma was on the loose and now Chat Noir was probably fighting against it and wondering why his Lady hadn’t arrived yet. A surge of adrenaline rushed through her veins at the mere thought of it. No, she couldn’t leave her kitty alone! Besides, he had no way to purify the akuma and she definitely didn’t want this particular akuma to multiply!

“It’s know, you okay… I mean you knew okay, uuuuuh I mean, It’s okay you didn’t know.” She nearly felt her face combusting on the spot when she felt his nose on her skin. “Adrien. Th-that’s my ch-chest,” she managed to say before getting completely breathless when she felt his breath in between her breasts as he gasped loudly and tried in a mad frenzy to detangle himself.

“So sorry, Marinette! I’m stuck, can’t move at all. I’m trying to pin myself on my elbows, but my neck hurts, I must have banged it quite hard, can't lift my head much. Can you move? I’ll try to lift myself up a little.” As he said that, she felt a bit of the pressure coming off her body and she could finally breathe. She tried to wiggle underneath him to squish out and felt that her body wasn’t tangled anywhere. 

“If you could hold that position and maybe lift yourself up a little bit more, maybe I can get out.” She felt what now she had identified as his body tense and lift just slightly further up, so she took that as a cue to start wiggling even more. With enormous difficulty, she untangled her legs and pulled the top part of herself out from under the boat. Her foot got stuck for a second, but the thought of the effort that poor Adrien was doing to lift himself up added to her panic and desperation and she managed to get herself out. She looked at her foot and noticed a big scratch on it. She had also lost one of her ballet shoes. As soon as she took her foot out, she heard a gasp and the boat crashed even more on top of Adrien, burying him further and leaving him nearly no gap for air. She heard the boy whimper underneath it.

“Are you all right, Adrien?” she shouted. She tried to lift the boat up, but the wood wouldn’t move at all. So she started trying to remove some of the branches that had fallen on top of the boat, to free it. 

“I… I’m not. I’m c-claustrophobic, Marinette. I c-can’t breathe!” He started coughing and Marinette started panicking outside the boat. 

Merde! That’s the last thing she needed now. She was hoping to go look for help and transform at the same time and get rid of the akuma. But she couldn’t leave him like that. Her whole soul was screaming inside her that she couldn’t possibly leave Adrien on his own (or any human being to be honest, but especially Adrien!) while he was at his most vulnerable. 

“Oh no! Adrien, don’t panic. Close your eyes and concentrate on breathing!”

“I can’t!” His voice was hoarse, almost a whisper. 

“Shoot! Adrien, please listen to me.” He coughed once more and her heart doubled its speed in her chest. “Please, Adrien, listen. Listen. Close your eyes. Imagine the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.” She heard him whimpering. “Do it, Adrien. Think of what you love the most. Picture it in your head in detail.”

“Uuuuuuh…” he whimpered again, but his voice wasn't as hoarse and he didn’t cough any more. 

“Are you picturing this beautiful thing, Adrien? Do you want to talk about it?” As she was talking, she kept looking around. She tried to pull up the boat again but she couldn’t even lift it a millimeter. So she gave her attention again to the branches on top. There were some big trunks among the smaller branches and they were too heavy for her to lift, so she knew that it would have been impossible for her to get Adrien out of the boat without help. But she didn’t want to leave him there. She eyed her phone thoughtfully, but the signal bar was showing ‘only emergency calls’. When she tried to dial the number of the boulangerie, no sound came out and after about half a minute, the phone hung up by itself. No, they were too deep into the woods, or maybe the akuma had damaged the phone wires; maybe a combination of the two.

No, there was only one thing to do. She went back on her knees and put a hand on the wood of the boat. “Are you okay, Adrien?”

“I’m a little better, but I won’t resist much longer,” he said, his voice still very shaky. No, she definitely couldn’t leave him there.

“Forgive me, my friend, I have no other choice!” she whispered and then said much louder, “TIKKI, SPOTS ON!” As the sparkle of pink energy wrapped all around her, she could clearly hear a loud gasp coming from within the boat. “I’m sorry that you found out like this, Adrien.”

She started working at the branches, lifting a much heavier load now that she had her suit on. However, the heaviest ones were still too heavy for her to lift, even as Ladybug. “Damn it! Adrien, I still can’t free the boat!” She looked around, almost hoping that she would see a sign that everything would be okay. She needed something. Someone. Yes, she definitely needed someone. Someone she knew way too well. “Where is that bloody cat when you need him?” she cursed loudly, more to herself than to anybody else. 

“Don’t!” she heard a voice that didn’t sound Adrien’s one coming from inside the boat. She opened her eyes wide and froze on the spot, resting one of her ears against the wood of the boat and listening very carefully. Surely she had just imagined it, Adrien was alone until seconds before! “I said don’t. Don’t you even th—”

“PLAGG, CLAWS OUT!” boomed Adrien’s voice. Blood drained completely from Ladybug’s face. 

WHAT?

“CATACLYSM!” As soon as he said that, the boat, and all the trees and trunks at the top of it, were rendered to ash. And immediately after, her stunned gaze was met by the shiny green eyes of her masked partner.

“Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu... Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?” she managed to say. Her eyes were still as wide as saucers, her heart skipping several beats as her mouth gaped open in a small o. 

Chat Noir bowed theatrically in front of her and then picked her hand up and kissed her knuckles. “The ‘bloody cat’ is and will always be at your service, My Lady!” he said in a joking tone, his eyes never leaving her own. Then he tried to move and she saw a gleam of pain in his eyes. “Ugh… although I won’t be of much use today, I’m afraid, not until you release the Miraculous cure. My leg—” He cringed and she finally managed to wake up from her shock induced stupor. First thing she did was wrap him in a massive hug. 

“You're okay!” she whispered in his ear, hugging him so tight he could hardly breathe.

He smiled softly in her embrace. “Yes, Buginette. I’m okay.”

“Thank God!” She started sobbing against his shoulder and he couldn’t do anything more than hug her tighter, while with one hand he was patting her hair in a soothing gesture. They held the hug for a long time, lulling in the reassuring feeling of each other’s breath, and each other’s warmth. Then, they heard loud bangs and crashes in the distance and broke the hug, as if waking up from a dream. 

Chat Noir saw that Ladybug wanted to say something, but he put a finger to her mouth and shushed her. “We can talk later, Marinette. Now we need to take care of the akuma.” He tried to move his leg and winced. “Actually, you will have to take care of the akuma because… as I said, my leg needs your Miraculous Cure. Ouch.”

She sniffled and stroked his cheek, before nodding decisively. Then, her eyes got an amused gleam to them and she cupped her hands on each side of his face. “I will, minou. But there’s an even more urgent matter that needs to be addressed before I go.”

“What m—” he started to say, but he couldn’t finish, because his lips got suddenly busy kissing the lips of the girl he loved.

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

Author’s note

Whoho! I finally managed to write something short! *Jumps around happily* Not sure if it can be considered a ‘drabble’ as I was asked, but… that’s the shortest I’ve written up to now! *JOY*

Hope you liked this little story. Please feel free to drop any compliments, screams, insults, kisses… incoherent rambling… anything you want in the comments and click send. I love reading your feedback, please be nice with this poor sleep deprived soul who writes at 3 am for tort—, I mean to delight you with these loads of rub—, er, these beautiful stories of mine. *Coughs*. Good news is (oh well, good… depending from the point of view), I have more prompts for the challenge I’m taking part of, so before the end of the weekend I’ll tort—, I mean I’ll delight you with some more. 

Aren’t you happy? :D

[musical-shit-show]

Two Sides: Chapter 5

Previous Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4)

Characters: Musical!Beetlejuice, Female!OC, Lydia Deetz, Barbara Maitland, Adam Maitland

Warnings: anxiety, awkward attempts at flirting, panic attacks, cursing, a little bit of angst if you squint

Word Count: 1,930

Author’s Note: Been on a writing kick so I figured I’d post Chapter 5! Not much to say about this chapter, just some good old fashioned character development a.k.a. Beej being a pissbaby and Cassandra being an anxiety factory. Please check out my Masterlist here and my About Me page. Enjoy!

Chapter 5

Both Cassandra and Beetlejuice called after the dark-haired girl, but she had already shut the door with a forceful yank. Causing mischief was something Lydia had perfected from spending a lot of time with Beetlejuice, and while she didn’t want to admit it, she was sort of glad her roommate had brought him back. Life without her undead companion was almost getting too normal for her liking.

She knew that this day was already turning out to be a lot to handle for Cassandra, but Lydia tried not to beat herself up about how everyone had been introduced. Nothing ever went according to plan in the Deetz/Maitland household, so it was just as well that the day had already erupted into total chaos. Still, Lydia hoped that her roommate would roll with the punches and make it through the weekend relativity unscathed.

After Lydia shut the door, Beetlejuice’s demeanor changed almost instantly. He leaned casually on the end of Cassandra’s wooden bed frame, his eyes scanning her, an impish glint in his eye. His green hair was now mixed with pale yellow and light pink colorations.

“So....does your hair always do that…?” Cassandra asked awkwardly, attempting to make some semblance of a conversation. The air in the room was still unbelievably tense, even after Lydia had properly introduced the two of them. A smug look flashed across the demon’s face.

“My hair’s sorta like a mood ring,” he said matter-of-factly, picking at the dead skin around his fingernails, “This shade of yellow means that I’m curious about ya. Pretty cool, huh?” He secretly wanted to impress her, and he thought the nonchalant act would do just the trick.

“And what does pink mean?” Cassandra asked, enthralled by the swirl of hues that now adorned his head.

“That I think you’re hot, babes,” he said, raising an eyebrow. He gave her another once over as Cassandra held back an uncomfortable laugh, taken aback at how forward he was.

“Oh, I’m sure you say that to all the girls you manhandle after they unwittingly unleash you into the mortal realm,” she said casually, doing her best to hide her discomfort with him. She did not take getting hit on well by living men, let alone men that had been dead for probably decades. Beetlejuice raised his eyebrows, wrongly suspecting that she was flirting back.

“What, are ya talking about that kiss?” he said innocently, his stocky frame inching closer to her, “Look, new girl, that was just a gesture of appreciation. You should be flattered.” Cassandra rolled her eyes, frustrated with the demon’s lack of self-awareness.

“Okay, first off, my name is Cassandra,” she said childishly, “Second, I’m not flattered by you fucking with me. The last hour of my life has been insane, and I really don’t need your help making it any crazier.” Beetlejuice felt the venom in her tone, but soldiered on until she cracked. Breathers like her always did, and he knew she was just putting on a front to seem tougher than she really was.

“Listen, babes, you gotta relax a little. Take a walk on the undead side,” he purred, “Why don’t I show ya—?” He stopped her pacing and grabbed her waist. Cassandra let out a small yelp of anger, pushing him away and plopping onto the bed. The comforter was now decidedly dirtier since the demon had laid on it, but she didn’t care. Hot tears of infuriation filled her eyes.

“Look, the last thing I want to do is get down and dirty with some dead guy that just appeared in my room and has been messing with me from the second I got here,” she said, in a quiet but sharp tone, “So please, for the love of all that is good and decent, could you, just, leave?” Instantly the pink and yellow swirls in his hair were mixed with a deep red and blue. Beetlejuice stared angrily at the floor, not used to being shot down so pointedly. This kind of rejection brought up emotions he wasn’t quite keen on revisiting, but he was too prideful to admit he had gone too far.

“Fine,” he muttered, not bothering to make eye contact with the already irked woman, “You’re not my type anyways, sweetheart. Guess I didn’t know Lydia had such a stuck up, goody-two-shoes breather for a roommate. See ya around, new girl.” With that he vanished from the room, a tiny *pop* emanating from the spot where he stood.

Cassandra let out another angry cry, overwhelmed with the day’s events. She understood where Lydia coming from, leaving the two of them together to get better acquainted. After all she was right: Cassandra was the one that stupidly summoned him. But it clearly didn’t occur to her that Beetlejuice would go back to his old self faster than lightning, making Cassandra incredibly uneasy in the process. A few moments later, a soft knock on the door broke her out of her emotional spiraling.

“Cassandra? It’s Barbara,” the blonde woman said softly, a tiny crack between the door and its frame forming, “Everything okay?” Cassandra quickly wiped away a small tear and cleared her throat.

“Uh, yeah, yeah everything is fine,” she said unconvincingly. Barbara took that as an invitation to open up the door fully and enter the guest room, Adam following quietly behind her. “I just, uh, met another dead person in this house. The guy who looks homeless and smells like a sewer.”

“Beetlejuice,” the couple deadpanned in tandem. Adam groaned in slight frustration, rubbing the back of his neck at the thought of the raucous demon back in his former home.

“Of course, of course he would be back here,” he said as Barbara rubbed his shoulders, attempting to relax him, “After we had just cleaned up from his last mess...did Lydia summon him?” Adam’s expression softened when he saw the guilt on Cassandra’s face. She had just met these people and had now accidentally freed an entity they clearly didn’t have much fondness for.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—” Cassandra let a few frustrated tears fall from her eyes, not able to even look up at the couple. Barbara sat down next to her on the bed, placing her hand on top of Cassandra’s. The living woman felt no sensation of being touched, but appreciated the gesture of comfort.

“It’s okay, honey,” Barbara said genuinely, her kind face illuminating the gloomy air in the room, “We aren’t upset with you, right Adam?” The woman nudged her husband quite forcefully, catching him slightly off-guard.

“No, no of course not,” Adam added, chuckling slightly, “It’s just, Beetlejuice can sometimes be...well, a handful.”

“Really?” Cassandra sniffed, drying her tears, “I hadn’t noticed.” The three of them cracked small smiles, slightly easing the disquieting air that hung in the room, “Is he always such a dick?” Barbara and Adam looked at each other, silently confirming the living woman’s question. Cassandra sighed. Not two hours into being in this house, and she had met three dead people and had already pissed off the most irritating of them all.

The Maitlands were at least acting civil towards her, even treating her with kindness. But there was something about Beetlejuice that made Cassandra’s temperature rise. The condescending smirk, the overzealous grabbiness, the complete unawareness of social cues...it all added up to a huge pain in the ass that she was going to have to deal with for the entire weekend.

‘You have to be nice,’ Cassandra thought, ‘For Lydia. He’s best friends with Lydia, and you need to be nice. Just for the weekend. And then you’ll never have to see that creep again.’ “Try and stick it out, just for a few days,” Barbara said sweetly, “He really isn’t that bad when you get to know him.” Adam smiled unconvincingly, doing nothing to quell Cassandra’s discomfort.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” she said, smiling as genuinely as she could muster, “I still have a little more settling in to do, but I’ll see you guys downstairs soon, okay?” The two ghosts nodded and disappeared in a flash, leaving the living woman alone once again. Cassandra closed her eyes yet again, finding it easier to process the events that had transpired since she had entered the house. She just had to accept that this was what Lydia’s world was like, even though she had no idea it existed.

She couldn’t blame Lydia for not telling her all these years, but she was still shocked to know that her best friend and roommate had successfully kept this from her for so long. A wave of emotions crashed down on her: hurt, anger, confusion, curiosity, excitement even. How was she supposed to make it through the rest of this trip without feeling like a mental patient? She felt a tightness in her chest, a telltale sign her anxiety had taken hold of her psyche.

Beetlejuice materialized in the room only seconds after the Maitlands vanished, watching her intently. Now he was intentionally making his presence unknown so he could further survey the damage without causing another scene. His hair was now a swirl of purple and red, creating a sea of maroon locks that adorned his head. He watched as Cassandra steadied her breathing and closed her eyes, attempting to gain her composure. She let a few stress-induced tears escape from her eyes but quickly brushed them away, as she shook her head and moved to unzip her duffel bag. Beetlejuice felt a twinge of guilt, a blue streak reappearing in his hair. He hadn’t met anyone new since he infiltrated the Maitlands’ home all those years ago, and the prospect of fresh meat to torment was too difficult to pass up. He feared he had gone too far, but those thoughts were replaced by annoyance and disdain.

‘Who does this breather think she is?’ he thought angrily, stewing in the corner of the room, still eyeing Cassandra as she methodically placed her clothes in an empty dresser, ‘Since when did Lydia get a new best friend? And how could that best friend possibly be a bigger mess than I am?!’

In all of his years as a bio-exorcist, Beetlejuice had never been turned down by a human so abruptly. Well, other than Lydia of course, but that was a different situation entirely. When it came to consenting adult breathers, Beetlejuice had them on their backs in no time. At their core, he knew that they loved the idea of breaking the rules, and getting pleasured by a demon was about the most sinful thing imaginable.

But this one? This trembling, crying, self-conscious mess that stood before him? She had made it very clear she wanted nothing to do with him, try as he might to be as friendly as he possibly could with her, though his definition of friendly was certainly more abrasive and forward than the average person’s, living or dead.

And the thought that this was the person Lydia was now spending all of her time with and not goofing off with him? Well, that only damaged Beetlejuice’s bruised ego even more. What made her so goddamn special?

Beetlejuice could feel himself growing more and more contemptuous towards Cassandra, but decided to at least attempt to be civil towards her, for Lydia’s sake. He was her best friend after all, and he wasn’t going to let this annoying breather change that over the course of one weekend.

Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun when Lyds wasn’t around...

~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading! Please like/comment/reblog and feel free to drop an ask for any requests/feedback! 

[hookedonapirate]

Figure of Speech

Summary: Killian has been in love with Emma Swan ever since he was eleven and she was his babysitter. The last time he saw her was the day he kissed her, thinking they were having a special moment… right before she headed off to college with her boyfriend.

When their paths cross years later, he’s just happy she remembers him—because while he’s a talented, free-spirited journalist who takes risks and has a knack for finding trouble, Emma is an accomplished and sophisticated politician who’s planning to run for President of the United States. 

Sensing Killian Jones—the boy who once knew her and supported her long before she entered the soul-sucking world of politics—is the key to unlocking a part of herself that’s been dormant for so long, she hires him as her speechwriter. As she travels the world to launch her 2020 presidential campaign, he is by her side, helping Emma find her voice again. 

The attraction between them sizzles, but when they eventually give into it, will their relationship withstand the demands of the election and scrutiny of the public?

A/N: Thank you @ultraluckycatnd​ for beta reading and @onceuponaprincessworld​ for your help with this! Thank you @captainswanmoviemarathon​ for starting the event and everyone on discord for all your help!

Before you read, there are a few things I want to clarify.

First off, this story is heavily based on the movie, Long Shot, for the Captain Swan Movie Marathon, with some elements of OUAT weaved in. What I’m referring to mainly is that the president in this fic is in no way based on President Trump. In other words, I am not using this fic to bash the current U.S. president in any shape or form, or any other real-life president. So if you plan on going into this with that mindset, I beg you to hit the back button right now. This story in no way reflects my opinions or views, I mainly stuck to the plot of the movie.

Secondly, I hope that I have made it perfectly clear in the beginning scene of this chapter that Killian is not actually a white supremacist, he is only going undercover to get his story. Nor is he Jewish like Fred Flarsky is in the movie. He’s the Killian we all know and love. So please don’t send me hate messages accusing me of either being a racist or writing Killian as one. I was very torn whether to include this scene or not but I feel it is relevant to the plot and shows Killian’s character in this story as very passionate about what he believes in and is a big risktaker when getting his point across, so I decided to keep it.

Third of all, I know some of you are sick of hearing about politics, especially since the U.S. election is so close. But this is not a political movie, it’s a romance. There is of course some talk of politics, but I’ve tried my best to keep it to a minimum. So if you’re worried about that, please don’t be. The movie genre is a romantic comedy.

Writing this fic was a huge wake-up call for me because it’s the first one in a while that I’m not proud of, for lack of a better word, because I have not been able to spend much time on it. I have so many wips in my docs it’s not even funny and I think that has really impacted how this chapter turned out. But because of this fic, I decided to take some time and work on finishing some of my wips before posting them, with the exception of this one because today is my posting date.

With that said, because I’ve been pushing myself to finish my wips, I finished writing my first original novel after working on it for two years, and I will be publishing it soon. So be sure to look out for Follow My Lead, a romance about a former ballerina and a gym owner.

Okay, now I am done with my rant, so please enjoy!

AO3 FF.N

Rated: M

2018

“So you guys are fairly active on social media, right?” 

“Yeah,” Jaxon answers absentmindedly, his eyes focused on the cue ball as he lines up the shot.

“How many times a day would you say you Tweet on average?” 

Jaxon taps the ball, sends it into its pocket, and high-fives Marcus, ignoring the question.

“Hey Rogers, ready to get a Swastika tattoo?!” Richard calls from the other room as the tattoo artist is finishing up with him.

“No, that’s okay, I’m cool,” Killian replies nonchalantly through the large lump in his throat, glad his British accent didn’t leak out as he takes his turn.

“Oh, come on, man, we’ve all got ‘em!”

Killian gulps and looks around the room, all the members pulling up their shirts to show their tattoos on the left side of their chest. He was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but he can sense Jaxon is already suspicious of his motives. He forces a small smile, pointing to himself with his free hand as he holds up the cue stick in the other one. “You want me to get a swastika tattoo?”

“Yeah!” the group chants in unison.

“Then I’ll get a swastika tattoo,” he agrees submissively, hoping the anxiety he feels isn’t clear in his voice. He removes his leather jacket, or rather the jacket he borrowed from Victor, depositing it in a chair before he walks into the adjacent room where the tattoo artist is waiting for him. He sits in the parlor chair, his stomach twisted in knots as he chooses his left bicep for the tattoo and cringes at the thought of getting it. He’s never gotten a tattoo before, and not only is he afraid of needles, but his beliefs don’t at all resemble anything a swastika symbol resembles. Tattoos are removable, though, right? 

When the needle pierces his skin, he pinches his eyelids shut and yelps, “Blo-ooooody he-eeeell!” He realizes his mistake immediately when the words screech out in his thick, British accent. Plus, bloody hell isn’t exactly an American phrase. 

He’s praying no one noticed, because if they did, they would know he’s lying about who he claims to be, but when he flips his eyelids open, everyone’s staring at him.

Fuck.

Jaxon, the leader of the group, enters the room with Killian’s jacket in one hand and wallet in the other, raising it for everyone to see Killian’s driver’s license. His heart flitters with panic. “Look at this. He’s been lying to us. His name isn’t John Rogers,” Jaxon announces angrily. Marcus appears next to him, holding up his laptop. On the screen is the Storybrooke Advocate website with Killian’s profile pic on the page. “It’s Killian Jones. He works for the Storybrooke Advocate! He’s a fucking journalist!”

“Wait, wait, wait, I can explain!” Killian pleads, raising his hands in surrender. 

The members circle him like sharks, and everything becomes a blur as they yank him from the chair and slam him against a table. 

“What are you doing, trying to fucking embarrass us, huh?!” Jaxon screams at him. “Who sent you?!”

“No one sent me!” Killian claims adamantly, fear and pain crippling him as he tries to think his way out of this. “I was just…”

Before he can finish his sentence, Marcus reaches into Killian’s jeans pocket as the others hold him down, and pulls out his phone. Which is currently recording everything. “He’s been recording us this entire time!”

Jaxon’s face is red with anger, steam practically emitting from his ears as he grits his teeth and fists Killian’s shirt in a vice-like grip, pulling him so close that Killian smells his wretched breath. “You infiltrated our group! You’re gonna fucking die!”

They say your life flashes before your eyes during your very last moments. They say it’s like reliving every moment that’s ever stuck with you—every moment that’s ever made an impression on you. Killian always thought when he was finally shuffled off to sleep with the fishes, his life would appear in sequence or at least in random order, featuring all the people who have played a vital role in his life—his parents, his brother, his best friend—but he never thought one person would stick in his mind. He never thought all the images flashing before his eyes would be of one person and one person only.  

The woman he’s been in love with since he was eleven years old.

Killian remembers when he first fell in love with her like it were yesterday. Or at least an eleven-year-old boy’s version of love. He remembers the song, It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday by Boyz II Men, was playing on the boombox. He remembers what day it was, what he was wearing and the fuzzy feeling in his chest. He remembers thinking about one of his favorite movies, The Sandlot, how Squints tricked the lifeguard, Wendy Peffercorn, into kissing him and how she eventually married him even though she was older and way out of his league. 

Back then, a three or four year age gap seemed like a huge deal, but maybe because he was so young and she was… well she was so grown up and mature and very beautiful for her age. Not Wendy Peffercorn. Well, he supposes Wendy was too, but Killian had his real-life version of the movie character. His version of her was also blonde. She may not have been a lifeguard, but she was his next-door neighbor and also his babysitter ever since his brother left to join the Navy. Killian’s bedroom had an excellent view of her backyard and he would occasionally watch her sunbathing by the pool as she listened to music on her headphones or read a book in her bikini. Not only did she have a beautiful body, but she was wicked smart. She was passionate about the environment and the things she cared about. She was super nice to him—which went a long way with him—and had a ridiculously cute, dimpled smile. She was perfect. An angel.

Maybe that’s why, right before his death, she’s the only one he sees.

Before he met her, he never considered kissing a girl, or even liking one for that matter. He thought girls were gross and had cooties. But Emma was no girl. Not even at fifteen. She was a woman. 

Emma Swan was his Wendy Peffercorn.

She still is. Even as he’s being threatened by a group of angry white supremacists. 

She’s all he sees.

“Did you know that every year, the school throws away over five hundred tons of recyclable garbage? And no one cares!”

“Aye, it’s rubbish. But how do you get muppets to care about stuff they don’t care about?” 

Emma shrugs. “They’ll just…” She bites her bottom lip, hesitance etching her features, “they’ll just c-care because it’s the right thing to care about.” She may not have all the answers, but she’s the most inspiring person he knows.

He smiles and rests one elbow on the counter, his chin perched in his hand as he admires her passion for the environment. He admires how beautiful she is in simply a snug pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt with a picture of a buttercup on the front. He admires her waist-length, golden hair, how it glows radiantly in the sunlight cascading through the kitchen window and how it swishes from side to side when she turns around to grab a mitt and pull the pizza out of the oven. Delicious aromas of crisp, baked bread, melted mozzarella cheese and sweet tomato sauce waft through the kitchen, making his stomach growl. Licking his lips, he jumps off the stool and heads over to grab a slice from the pan.

She gently swats his hand away. “Don’t touch, kid, you’ll burn yourself. Let it cool, first.”

He frowns as he returns to his seat. He hates it when she calls him that. He doesn’t want her to think of him as a kid; he’s almost a teenager! Heeding her warning, he does his best to resist the temptation of getting up again and grabbing a slice, even though the gooey, golden cheese, colorful toppings and toasted crust look amazing. Instead, he places the hand she’d touched on his cheek. He never wants to wash his hand or his cheek ever again.

Emma continues the speech she’d prepared for her Student Council election. She’s running for president, and he is not only her biggest supporter, but he also came up with her campaign slogan, ‘Stay calm and vote for Swan’. He was quite proud of himself when she actually thought it was clever enough to use.

“I would definitely vote for you, Swan.”

“Thanks, Killy,” she says, ruffling a hand through his hair.

Now that’s a better nickname. Though he hates when his brother calls him Killy, he never minds when Emma does. 

Once the pizza is cool enough to eat, Emma returns to the oven, using a pizza cutter on the pie. She plates two big slices, one for each of them, and brings them to the counter, sitting next to him. They eat their pizza in silence at first, besides the yummy food noises they make.

“Thanks for helping me. I know it’s probably boring hearing my speech over and over again.”

He shakes his head. “Not at all,” he mumbles through a mouth full of pizza. “I’m just happy to help,” he smiles. His hand pauses midair, still holding his half-eaten slice of pizza as he locks eyes with his beautiful babysitter. He wonders if she feels the same way he does, and normally he wouldn’t think it was possible, but the way she’s looking at him right now makes him rethink everything.

She reaches out to him, and he closes his eyes as she caresses his cheek. His heart slams against his chest and he loses all the air from his lungs. And that’s when he knows he’s totally and completely in love. Her hand feels so wonderfully warm, he wants to spend the rest of his life feeling her touch and immediately gets a chill when she pulls her hand away. 

“All better.”

His eyes flip open to see Emma wiping her hand with a napkin. She looks up at him and smiles. “You had some sauce on your face.”

He chuckles on the outside, but internally he’s berating himself for being foolish enough to think someone like Emma Swan could possibly like him. She’s way too good for him. 

Especially when he’s thirteen and has to wear glasses. As if hitting puberty isn’t bad enough, he also has to sport the most hideous pair of thick-framed glasses. By then, his father said he was too old to have a babysitter, so he didn’t get to see Emma as much. He mowed the Swans’ lawn occasionally, but she was gone most of the time with extracurricular activities and prepping for college. He convinced himself she could never be into someone like him. Someone who was nerdy and awkward and four years her junior. 

Until one day when he’s fourteen and she’s eighteen.

She’s leaving for college and he’s been in his room sulking while listening to It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye for two weeks, not looking forward to her departure. He’s afraid he’ll never see her again. But he’s also happy for her. She’s off to better and greater things, greener pastures as they say. She’s going to Harvard and leaving him in the dust.

He’s on the front porch, sitting on the top step, his chin in his hands and his elbows propped up on his knees as he watches Emma and her parents packing up her things. He wants to offer his assistance, but this seems like a very important bonding moment for the three of them and he doesn’t wish to interrupt. He can tell Mr. and Mrs. Swan are both incredibly sad but also very proud of their daughter, and there are lots of hugs and tears by the time the car is packed. Then Emma says something to her parents and they wave at Killian. He smiles and waves back before they head inside.

Emma walks over to him, and he immediately stands up, making his way down the remaining steps.

“Hey,” she murmurs, smiling at him.

“Hey,” he parrots, offering a small smile. “So, you’re all packed?”

“Yeah, we’re leaving soon.”

Nodding nervously, he scratches behind his ear as he looks away, not sure what to say.

“Look, I’m not a goodbye person, but — ”

“Let’s not say goodbye then,” he suggests and offers his hand. But instead of shaking it, she throws her arms around him. Killian’s stunned, and can’t even move at first, completely paralyzed in her embrace.

Emma’s hugging him.

He slowly molds into her body, his arms wrapping around her waist as she tightens her hold. Her hair smells like strawberries and cream as he buries his face there. He never wants to let her go.

“I’ll miss you, Killian,” she whispers in his ear.

His heart does a little somersault, and he whispers, “Not a day will go by when I won’t think of you.”

He feels her smile against his neck. “Good.”

That one simple word does something to him and he grins into her hair, holding her tighter. 

She breaks the hug long before he’s ready, and he’s still awestruck as she leans in to kiss him.

Bloody hell. 

Emma Swan leans in for a kiss as he springs forward to meet her halfway. Their lips finally connect like they had so many times in his dreams, but he doesn’t fail to miss how surprised she is when a gasp escapes against his mouth. She doesn’t pull away, but he knows he probably should after realizing she was actually going for his cheek. But her lips are so soft and warm and taste like cinnamon and cocoa, and he swears they move ever so slightly against his. He still has his arms around her, pressing her to him, and her center suddenly moves away from him. Forcing himself to break the kiss, he looks down and notices the very prominent and very hard erection tenting his pants.

Fuck.

His cheeks are on fire as he looks up, apology and embarrassment flushing his face. He’s expecting her to either slap him or storm away and never look back, but she stares down at his groin, her mouth agape. 

“Bloody hell, I’m so sorry, love.”

“It’s okay,” Emma squeaks as her eyes snap up to his.

Just then, a ‘69 Ford Mustang pulls up in front of Emma’s house, the music booming through the speakers at an obnoxious volume.

He panics when Emma’s boyfriend gets out of the car and makes his way over to them. Killian forgot Neal was riding with Emma to Harvard, where he was certainly not attending. Neal could only get into a community college.

Killian quickly pulls off the backward baseball cap from his head and uses it to cover his obvious boner. 

“Hey, babe, ready to go?” 

She nods and looks at Killian, a small smile tilting her lips. 

“Bye, four-eyes,” Neal taunts with a condescending sneer as he wraps his arm around Emma’s shoulders.

Really?

Killian bites his tongue as he rolls his eyes. That nickname really gets old. Can’t he think of something more original?

“Don’t call him that,” Emma scolds her boyfriend, swatting his chest. “He has a name.”

“Sorry, I mean Killian,” he says insincerely before turning around and pulling Emma with him.

As Killian watches them walk away, pushing up the bridge of his glasses with his finger, he would give anything to be the one with his arm around Emma, the one leaving with her instead of being the one she leaves. She cranes her neck to look at him as she walks away. He swears she’s looking at him longingly but he’s sure he’s only imagining it. She’s still gazing at him until her parents emerge from the house. Neal doesn’t even have the courtesy to open the door to her parents’ station wagon for her, and instead hurries into the back seat. 

Arsehole, Killian thinks bitterly as he watches the vehicle pull away from the curb. Emma stares at him through the passenger’s window, and their eyes connect. He flashes one last smile and waves. She smiles back at him and presses her palm to the window before she disappears down the road and out of his life, leaving a permanent gaping hole in his heart. 

He always thought not being able to see Emma anymore was the scariest thing he’s ever experienced. But that was before he was inked with part of a swastika tattoo so his cover wouldn’t be blown. That was before he fell from a two-story building and landed in a dumpster. Luckily the trash bags cushioned his fall and didn’t contain any glass or other sharp objects. He hadn’t really thought that through when he jumped. But then again, he didn’t really have time to do anything but run for his life while Marcus and Jaxon were busy trying to figure out how to stop Killian’s phone from recording. Killian took advantage of the distraction and plucked the phone from their hands, sprinting for the nearby window.

His phone.

Killian quickly lifts his hand to see that not only is his phone still in his hand but it’s still intact. He climbs out of the dumpster, his entire body sore, but he lands on his feet. He’d left his leather jacket up there, but it wasn’t even his. Killian doesn’t wear leather jackets, he’s content with his hoodies. He borrowed the jacket from his best friend, Victor. He’ll be pissed, but oh well, Killian will buy him a new one.

Three of the members are poking their heads out the window and Killian looks up at them, throwing the hand that’s still holding his phone in the air. He feels like Bennie in The Sandlot when he finally gets the baseball from the beast and hurdles the fence, still holding onto the ball. The difference is the beast chased Bennie down. The difference is the beast in the movie was not actually a beast at all. He can’t say the same about those white supremacists, though.

“We trusted you, man!” Richard calls out. He’s the one Killian had contacted through one of their social media groups. 

“Sorry, mate,” he says in his British accent, his words lacking any sort of apology as he spins around. “Peace!” he calls behind him trying to sound as American as he can, and instead of saluting the members with two fingers, which is not a peace sign for Brits, he flips them the bird as he goes. 

∞∞∞

“Tonight on Walsh News, we take an in-depth look at Emma Swan, a Rhodes Scholar, a Pulitzer Prize winner and a protégé of President Gold who tapped Swan two years ago to be the youngest Secretary of State in the history of this nation.”

As sore as Killian is from that jump out of a two-story window and as much as he hates that arsehole, Walsh, and everything the media mongrel represents, he lifts his eyes from his MacBook. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and manages a small smile when he sees Emma on the television screen. He knows what he’d done to write his article and expose the White Power group was worth it. He may have lost faith in humanity long ago, but Emma’s passion and ambition and hope have always stuck with him. He wants to believe the support he’d always shown her when they were young has always stuck with her too, but he doubts it. She doesn’t need his support. She never did. She was never a helpless duckling, and even after she lost the student council election to August Booth because of his stupid two prom platform, her wounds healed and she eventually spread her wings and soared high in the sky, leaving Storybooke in the dust. 

As Killian gazes at her wistfully at the screen, he sees the elegant swan he always knew she’d become. While everyone he knows had hopes and dreams they gave up on long ago, Emma is the one person who made hers come true. Well, not quite all of them. She always talked about saving the planet, but he knows her work isn’t nearly finished. She’s only thirty-seven, and even though they haven’t spoken to one another since the day he watched her ride away in her parents’ 1987 Pontiac Safari Station Wagon, he still believes in her. He’ll always believe in her.

∞∞∞

Emma sucks in a deep breath as she twists the knob and opens the thick, wooden door, entering the Oval Office with a little bit of forced enthusiasm. President Gold had been vague over the phone about what he’d wished to discuss with her, but his tone of voice indicated it might be something big. “Good morning Mr. President,” she greets with the smile she had practiced in her bedroom mirror repeatedly that morning. 

“Hello, Ms. Swan.” He rises from his chair and rounds the desk, gesturing to one of the couches. “Please, have a seat.”

She sits down and crosses her legs, folding her hands in her lap as he sits on the couch across from her and rests his elbows on his knees. “Ms. Swan…”

“Yes, sir?”

He blows out a long breath as if whatever he’s about to tell her has been weighing on his mind for quite some time. “I will not be seeking re-election.”

Emma’s sure the awestruck expression on her face doesn’t even come close to how surprised she actually is. “Really?” Did she hear him correctly?

He nods, clapping his hands together. “Look, I know how absurd it sounds seeing as I’m only halfway through my first term—”

“And you’re incredibly popular, sir.” But she knows most of his popularity stems from being a television star before he took office. He hosted the popular game show, Let’s Strike a Deal.

“And I’m going to use that popularity to transition into something more prestigious than the presidency. I wanna make it in the movies.”

Emma blinks, not believing what she’s hearing. She opens and closes her mouth several times, trying to process this. “Yoooouuuu… want to leave… the presidency… to be a movie star?”

“I know it’s tough to make the leap from television to film, but I think I’m going to give it a shot.”

After the initial shock washes over her, she sees this as an opportunity. She had planned on running for president in 2024, but with Gold leaving office at the end of his first term, perhaps she can use this to her advantage. And she knows just how to go about it. Gold may be good at convincing people—he is an actor after all—but Emma not only has far more education than him, her extensive political background has helped her greatly improve her cajolery tactics over the years. After she lost the Student Council election to August Booth in high school, she’s learned that in order to get ahead, sometimes you have to use a little sleight of hand to get there—give the people what they want, so to speak. Or, in this case, help Gold realize just how legendary his presidency could be.

“Mr. President, have you given any consideration as to whom you might endorse? I’m sure you’re probably thinking of Yang or Crowley. Sound choices,” she nods and purses her lips, averting her gaze, a look of contemplation on her face. “It’s so strange because I was considering a run in 2024, and I can’t stop wondering what…” she looks at Gold again, “what it would do for your legacy to endorse the first female president. I mean, wow. ” The word is breathy, almost a whisper. “Now that’s a legacy.”

Gold presses his joined hands to his lips and has a thoughtful expression embedded in his features, but she can’t discern what he’s thinking.

She looks at the floor between them while he ponders her words. 

“Emma?” he finally says after a moment.

“Hmm?” She reverts her eyes to him.

“I would like to endorse you to be the next President of the United States.” 

Her entire body is thrumming with excitement and her stomach is full of butterflies; she doesn’t even care he said it like it was his idea. She’ll even give him credit for it. Besides, trying to convince him otherwise would be like trying to teach a fish how to bark. She closes her eyes and refrains from jumping up and down on the couch. She opens her eyes again, trying to hide the excitement in her voice but fails, her tone coming out unusually high pitched. “I mean, if you think that’s a good idea, sir, I trust you completely. I’d be… I’d be honored.”

He reclines back, wagging a finger at her. “I’ll be pulling for Team Emma. Because you’ve been a great secretary.”

“Of State,” she adds.

“Whatever. You’ve done it well, Dearie.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“So stay focused. Don’t make any major screw-ups. Don’t kill anyone. That’s probably not a problem for you. I don’t know what you’re into. Whatever. And before you know it…” He rises from the couch and hums the US Presidential Anthem. 

“I like the sound of that,” Emma says with a jubilant smile as she stands up.

“Hey here she comes, it’s the first lady president,” he chants.

“Thank you, sir.” She heads for the door, Gold following behind her still singing. 

“Who can believe she is actually a woman. She’s got a big brain and a couple other assets.”

Emma opens the door and walks through, not even giving another thought to how incredibly sexist Gold is being. She’s floating high on a cloud as she sashays proudly down the hall and raises a subtle victory fist in the air, whispering to herself, “Yessss!”

∞∞∞

“You’re gonna love this,” Killian raves as he hands the piece to his boss. “I almost died for this.”

Sidney lowers the mug from his lips, swallowing his coffee down. He offers a tightlipped smile as he glances very briefly at the draft before looking up at Killian, a serious expression clouding his face. “Got a second?”

“Of course.” 

“Come with me.”

Killian follows Sydney into his office and sits across from him at the desk, setting his satchel on the floor.

Sydney sets down Killian’s article and his coffee mug, folding his hands together on the desk. “I have some great news, Killian. We’ve just been bought by Walsh Media.” 

Killian pales and his stomach drops. “What?!” Blood bubbles under his skin at the thought of the wanker buying the Storybrooke Advocate. The thought of him owning something Killian has literally put his blood, sweat and tears into. “Bloody hell. Are you fucking kidding me?!” Ever since he was a kid, he’s dreamed of being an investigative journalist, so he’s been nothing but loyal and dedicated to the company from day one. But in the blink of an eye, Walsh has managed to ruin all that for him.

“Look, I knew you would have a poor reaction—”

“A poor reaction?!”

“Killian, this is a good thing.”

“How?! That wanker represents everything we’ve been fighting against since day one. The whole point of this paper is to fight giant media conglomerates. Now we’ve been bought by a giant media conglomerate.”

“I see the irony,” Sydney nods.

“Irony?!” Killian stands from his chair, his voice growing louder with every word. “He’s going to turn us into a giant propaganda machine! And not the good kind!” Anger pulsates through him as he paces back and forth in front of Sidney’s desk; he’s never been this worked up before in his entire life. And that’s saying something for him.

“Killian, we’re running out of options. We’ve been running as long as we can on ads for weed doctors and escorts.”

Killian stops in his tracks and raises his hands in the air. “Then run penis enlargement ads or something!”

“Come on, Killian,” Sydney admonishes.

He sighs in exasperation, trying to calm down, his voice calmer. “This Walsh guy ran fake stories to get Gold elected.”

Sydney shakes his head and raises a finger at him. “No, they couldn’t prove that.”

“We proved it!” He holds up three fingers. “I wrote three articles about it. You published them!”

Sydney nods, lowering his face into the palm of his hand. “I did.”

“The shite that comes out of this guy’s mouth? He said same-sex marriage caused tornadoes! He represents everything that’s wrong with this country!”

“Killian, it’s done, alright?”

He freezes. “It’s done?!”

“They’re upstairs, finalizing the deal right now.” 

Killian presses the pads of his fingers to his temples and turns away from his boss as he tries to process this. 

Sydney stands and rounds his desk, sitting on the edge, pleading with him. “Look, we have to cut two-thirds of our staff.”

Killian turns around, devastation in his features. “Two-thirds?”

“Yes. But we want to keep you on. They want to keep you on. It’s just,” he blows out a hesitant breath, “you just have to tone it down a little bit.”

Killian furrows his brows in bewilderment. “I don’t know how I can tone things down any more than I’m toning them down, mate,” he mutters through gritted teeth.

“Okay look, Killian, you’re a brilliant writer…”

“Thank you.”

“You’re funny, you take risks, you connect with people…”

Killian’s brows pinch in suspicion. “Why am I sensing there’s a big but coming?”

“You have a distinct, authentic voice… but… ”

“And there it is…” he sighs.

“But, sometimes you’re a little too much.”

Killian is taken aback. “I don’t think I am too much. I actually think I’m the perfect portion,” he says defensively.

“Look, you have your job, so focus on that and just toe the line a little bit.”

Killian is enraged. Toe the line a little bit?! He’s not toeing any lines. “I quit.”

Sydney’s face twists with a mixture of shock and disappointment. “Oh, come on, Killian…”

“You should quit, too. Everyone should bloody well quit.”

“No, I’m not quitting, I need my job.”

“I need my job too. I’m broke. But I can’t work for that tosser.”

Sydney sighs. “At least let me fire you so you can collect unemployment.”

Killian slices a hand through the air over his chest. “No bloody way! I want nothing from him. Besides, I want him to know I quit.”

“He’ll never know it, he’s never heard of you. You’re going to destroy your life to spite a guy who’s never heard of you?”

“Yes! You said it best! That’s exactly what I’m doing. Fuck this.” Killian grabs his satchel and walks out of Sydney’s office, closing the door behind him, announcing to all his former coworkers, “Journalism died today, people!”

∞∞∞

“So the headline is, you’re in great shape,” Mary Margaret, the polling team manager, points out as she displays the next presentation slide.

Emma’s sitting at the meeting table between her Chief of Staff, Regina Mills, and Deputy Chief of Staff, Robin Locksley, trying to follow along with the presentation, but it’s difficult for Emma to focus when her stomach is full of butterflies. She still can’t believe she persuaded Gold to endorse her. Her head is spinning.

“Ninety-two percent, that’s good,” Regina comments. 

“It’s very good,” Mary Margaret agrees exuberantly and moves on to the next slide, which shows Emma’s personality traits and how they were ranked. “Your sense of humor is eighty-two, which is solid.” Mary Margaret cocks her head to the side, as though she has to rethink that assessment. “It’s solid, but we wouldn’t mind seeing that number go up a few points… or more.”

Regina leans in to speak to Emma as she takes notes. “I’ll get some writing samples from some funny speechwriters.”

Emma sets her pen down and smiles. “Thanks, Regina.” She rests her elbows on the table, clasping her hands together as she reverts her attention to Mary Margaret and says, “But I’m really interested in knowing how people feel about my accomplishments.” 

“Right, so we don’t drill down on specific policies, and that’s only because people don’t seem to care.”

Well, that’s a blow to the gut.

“With that said, if you could broker a deal that gets you out there talking about something you feel strongly about, that would be really great.”

“Well, that’s perfect,” Emma says enthusiastically, sitting on the edge of her chair. “We’ve been looking for an opening to start a conversation about the environment.” 

“That sounds great,” Mary Margaret says with a grin, but Emma’s not sure if she’s being sarcastic and trying to hold back a laugh, or if she’s being sincere. “Now, if I may, onto your romantic life…” The brunette shows a photo of Emma and Graham Humbert smiling for the camera.

Emma refrains from rolling her eyes as she rests her chin in her palm. She doesn’t have a romantic life. One make-out session with a world leader she barely knows doesn’t constitute a romance.

However, the way Mary Margaret gushes as she looks at the couple in the photo, one would think they were actually a couple. “Remember the stir online when you and the Canadian Prime Minister were seated next to each other at the Global Business Forum?”

Emma nods, wishing she were taking a nap right now. She doesn’t care about improving her personality traits or starting a romance that will raise her numbers and appease the public. Although she is quite proud of her two highest scores, elegance and charisma, both ranked at over ninety-five percent.

“A relationship like that,” Mary Margaret points to the photo of Emma and Graham, “could push you into the high nineties.”

“High nineties? Wow,” Regina murmurs to herself, making note of it.

“That brings us to…” Mary Margaret switches to the next slide, showing Emma’s wave.

She knits her brows in confusion. “What’s wrong with my wave?”

“That kind of elbow movement is um…” Mary Margaret purses her lips as though she’s trying to figure out how to put it delicately, but then gives up, “well, it stresses people out.”

“You know what? It’s just an area of improvement,” Robin assures Emma after sensing the offended tone in her voice.

She supposes the movement in her elbow is a bit too much. It makes her look like a robot actually. “Fine, I’ll work on the wave.”

∞∞∞

“I’m not going to a fancy rich person party,” Killian declares after Victor proposed going to the World Wildlife Fund benefit in Philly tonight. Killian had shared the details with Victor and now they’re walking down Main Street discussing their plans for the evening. But Killian thought Vic was trying to make him feel better. Going to a fancy, rich person party will only remind Killian how rich he is not. He had something else in mind, something involving the closest bar and lots and lots of rum. 

“Oh, come on, Jones. Don’t be so judgemental. There will be free booze and pandas and shit. People love pandas and shit.”

Killian shakes his head. “I just lost my job, I’m not really in the mood to mingle.”

“Fine, just sit at home and do nothing. Don’t hang out with your best friend and Boyz II Men.”

Killian’s ears perk up and he stops in his tracks. “Boyz II Men will be there?”

Victor stops walking and turns around, nodding. “Yep. They’re bringing their timeless blend of R&B and hip hop to the party. The fancy rich party doesn’t sound so bad after all, now does it?”

Not at all. He used to listen to Boyz II Men and other popular musicians in the nineties. But mostly Boyz II Men because it’s what he and Emma would listen to when she was over at his house babysitting him. He didn’t know Victor then; they met in college before Victor went off to medical school, but they have similar tastes in music. Which is how Victor knew exactly how to persuade Killian into going to a fancy, rich person party. “Okay, I’m in, mate.”

“That’s the spirit!” Victor pats Killian on the shoulder, and they walk again as Victor sings Motownphilly.

∞∞∞

“I’m starving. Why didn’t you power bar me?” Emma asks Robin as they make their way down the staircase, Regina and her Secret Service agents following behind them.

The Grand Room glitters like something out of a fairy tale, all candlelight and crystal chandeliers and gilt and sophisticated shine. The attendees glitter, the women dripping in diamonds and other precious stones and the men donning suits and black ties. 

“I tried to, but you pushed my hand away,” Robin chuckles.

“Hopefully they don’t have skewered foods. I can’t eat skewered foods gracefully; I always look like a fucking cavewoman.”

“And there are cameras everywhere.” Regina points at a dutiful photographer who’s unobtrusively circling the perimeter of the room, taking pictures of as many of the guests as he can. “That would hurt your elegance score.”

“That’s my best score.”

When they reach the buffet table, Emma’s relieved to find that not all the food is on skewers. But even so, she’s so hungry, she may still look like a cavewoman trying to stuff as much food into her mouth as she can. “Cover me?”

“Of course.”

Regina and Robin both stand behind her like walls as Emma makes her first selection, grabbing a saucy meatball on a toothpick and bringing it to her mouth, being careful not to drip any sauce on her black dress. 

“Oh my god, these meatballs are really good,” Emma mumbles through a mouthful of food.

“Graham Humbert is approaching,” Regina warns her. “He’s about nine feet away.”

“Shit,” Emma whispers and shoves another meatball into her mouth before wiping her lips and chin with a napkin. After swallowing it down and discarding the napkin, she spins around, offering a bright smile. 

When Graham approaches her, giving her a once over, Regina and Robin disperse.

“Graham… how are you?”

“Good evening.” His lips twitch in a pleased smile as he takes Emma’s hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “I am so sorry I missed you at the White House a few weeks ago,” he says in his thick, Irish brogue. He was born in Canada, but his parents are originally from Ireland, so naturally, he took on their Irish accent.

“Oh, it’s fine.” Emma waves off his apology with a flick of her hand. “Maybe next time?”

“Well, I—”

“If I may?” the photographer interrupts, holding up his camera.

“Aye, of course,” Graham turns toward him, and Emma relents, remembering what Mary Margaret said about how being seen with Graham would raise her score. She supposes if she’s going to be running for president, she must endure some things she may not like, in order to appease the public. Besides, it’s not like Graham is bad looking; in fact, he’s rather handsome with his curly brown hair and grey-blue eyes. But her hectic schedule doesn’t allow time for a romantic relationship. 

Graham wraps his arm around her as she places a tentative hand on his back. The camera flashes a few times as Emma and Graham hold their smiles.

“One more,” Graham says, just as Emma’s about to pull away. 

A few more successive shots are taken before Graham thanks the photographer and they break their pose, turning toward each other. 

He inches closer, speaking intimately in her ear. “What do you say we get out of here? Grab a drink somewhere a bit more… private?”

The music changes from something soft and elegant to something more familiar. Very familiar actually. 

Motownphilly.

Emma looks over Graham’s shoulder and her eyes light up when she sees Boyz II Men on stage. “Yeeeessss!”  

When Regina told her about the World Wildlife Fund benefit, she failed to mention Boyz II Men would be performing.

“Yeah?” Graham asks, a big smile spreading across his lips.

While he’s thinking she was saying yes to his invitation, Emma had forgotten his presence as soon as she heard the music. Not that she would’ve accepted his invitation anyway. But now she sees this as an opportunity to avoid the question altogether. “Oh my God!” Emma scurries over to the crowd that’s gathering around the entertainers of the evening.

“Alright, alright, alright, alright. Philly, make some noise. Make some noise!”

The crowd whistles and cheers, and Emma is taken back to when she was a kid again. She was ten when this song came out—when she bought their CD—and listened to it constantly throughout her teen years. 

Graham joins her on the dance floor as she moves to the music, not even caring about her elegance score. She literally hasn’t danced like this since high school, but she feels more carefree than she has in years and she hasn’t even had a sip of champagne. Stuffy music and champagne have never been her thing. But this… this is her music.

“Duty calls.” Graham’s deep voice in her ear makes her jump, and she spins around to look at him. “I’ll take a snow check on those drinks. Canadian for a rain check,” he winks.

“Okay,” Emma says, forcing a small laugh at his joke. 

“Good evening,” he bids her, slowly walking away.

∞∞∞

“I feel very underdressed,” Killian grumbles as he peers down at himself. He’d never thought to change out of his blue jeans, t-shirt and black hoody, and here he is drinking champagne in a room full of rich people who are wearing tuxes and formal dresses.

“Don’t worry, you look fine,” Victor says as they make their way through the crowd. 

Killian knows he’s just being nice though. Even Victor is wearing a dress shirt and blazer, but then again he blends in more with the other rich folk because unlike Killian, he’s not jobless or poor; he’s a doctor who makes more than a decent living.

Killian finishes his champagne and places the flute on a tray when a waiter approaches, and snatches another one, gulping it down like rum.

“Easy, buddy. You’re pounding those drinks pretty hard, don’t you think?” And that’s coming from Victor, who’s at the bar every night he’s not on call.

“I got fired today, mate.” 

“I thought you said you quit?”

Killian’s gaze moves across the room as he turns his head to look at Victor who is standing next to him. “I was forced to quit because—” His words die in his throat, his jaw dropping when his eyes land on a gorgeous blonde dancing.

But not just any blonde. Killian recognizes her. 

It’s the Secretary of State. It’s Emma Swan. His first crush. His first kiss. 

He hasn’t seen her in person since she was eighteen, but she’s even more stunning as a grown woman. And she’s even more stunning than she is on television. 

[monaownsmyass]

My Girl

If you have any fic ideas or requests you’d like me to write, you can leave me an ask!

Book: Queen B, Chapter 15

Pairing: Zoey Wade x MC (Bea Hughes)

Genre: Fluff

Rating: G, none

Word count: 3,649

A/N: Literally just chapter 15 with more fluff. If you read my fics, I’m pretty sure it’s obvious I’m a whore for characters slow dancing or just holding onto each other so this chapter was my dream lol. I wrote this cuz when I read it, this song was playing in my head and I knew I had it include it somehow. Highly recommend listening to it while they dance together. Song is ‘My Girl’ by The Temptations

Tag list: @ineedskyecrandall @kamilahsayeet2063 @avalawrencefl @lovekamilahsayeed @thequeenkamilahsayeed @heygmicheelle @djtjsmith14 (lmk if anyone would like to be included or removed in my next fics.)

"Zo? This isn't some Hollywood red carpet premiere, right?" I asked hesitantly while peering out from our limo's window. I suddenly felt very intimidated, realising that I was about to be greeted by a swarm of flashing cameras. "Why are there so many of them?!"

"Hey, we already talked about this! You can't show fear! Paparazzi are like wolves, they smell that stuff!" Zoey took my hand gently and brushed a kiss across my cheek. The sudden spike of anxiety I felt when I saw all the cameras subsided as soon as it appeared when she did so and was replaced by butterflies. "Besides, I'll be there to fight them for you if they get too rabid. You've got nothing to be scared of."

"You'd really fight them for me? You wouldn't mind risking your manicure?" I asked incredulously.

"As long as you cheer me on," she teased. "I'd be a campus legend!"

"I already think you are, Zo." I looked at into her bright eyes that were only made more captivating by her eye makeup. "You're officially the best date."

Zoey leaned in closer to me, eyes sparkled playfully, her breath against my lips as she answers.

"I know."

My heart jumped as her lips brushed mine, but all too soon the limo stopped and the chauffer opened the door. Zoey grinned and pats my cheek, stroking it lightly.

"It's time for your entrance."

She gave me one last kiss on the cheek before sliding out of the limo. I followed her, eyes screaming in pain as I tried to fight not to squint at the camera flashes. My heart started thumping in my chest at all the attention, feeling a little uneasy.

But then I noticed Zoey. She was waiting for me, her hand extended, smiling radiantly and outshining all the cameras while gazing at me lovingly. The sight made my breath hitch. She was seraphic and the flashing lights only made her look like she was glowing.  All the camera flashes were going off behind her but her focus was on me. Their attention may have been on us but her attention was only on me.

"Come on, darling. Remember, it's your moment."

I grinned back at her and took her hand, feeling warmth and ease spread through me as she laced her fingers with mine.

"It's our moment."

As we strode down the red carpet, I felt like cowering. I was used to getting attention since my ranking increased but that was nothing like this. All eyes were on me but with Zoey's hand in mine, it kept me grounded. An amity in the sea of unfamiliarity. She would give my hand a squeeze every once in a while as encouragement. 'You're doing great!'.

A little further, an interviewer and his camerawoman stopped us.

"Chad Bentley for Celeb Highlight. You look stunning tonight Miss Hughes!"

"You obviously haven't seen my date,"  I joked and gestured towards Zoey, feeling much more relaxed knowing she was by my side. "She's the stunning one."

Zoey laughed and squeezed my hand. "We're both the stunning ones tonight, babe."

"Only tonight?"

"Tonight, yesterday, tomorrow and always."

I turned back to Chad to address him. "I'll have to thank my wonderful date for this look tonight, she's the one that put it all together. She really knows how make me stand out even in a crowd as large and glamorous as this one."

"You're tiara is absolutely to die for too! Please tell us a little about it."

"It's garnet  and white diamonds in 18 karat gold. Once again, I have to hand all the props to my girl." I removed my hand from hers only to wrap it around her waist and tug her closer to me. "Miss Zoey Wade."

Chad averted his attention to Zoey. "Miss Wade, not only do you look gorgeous tonight, you styled, dare I say, the best-dressed person here tonight and a little bird told me you also produced the top-chart hit of the summer! Is there anything you can't do?"

Zoey lets out a brilliant laugh and responds, "I have yet to find out, Chad."

"That's my girl," I beamed in pride.

"You heard it here first, Highlighters! Looks like we have two new trendsetters on the scene! You both make an adorable and beautiful couple as well! Thank you for your time!"

Zoey and I continued to strut down the rest of the red carpet together, arms linked.

"Heard that, babe?" I nudged Zoey. "Adorable and beautiful couple."

"That's old news, we already knew that."

We laughed as we walked into the ballroom where we heard the guests complimenting the stellar decoration Zoey and I put together.

"Looks like another win for team Zea!" Zoey cheered.

"Since when were we known as Zea?" I questioned. "Why not put my name first? Let's call ourselves Boey!"

"Oh, babe, I adore you, but no," she patted my arm,  giving me a sympathetic look.

Just then, Thomas stepped onto the stage and grabs the mic. "Good evening, alums, faculty, Person to Watch hopefuls, and guests alike! Our talent show will begin at ten. In the meantime, please enjoy the refreshments as you mingle. Yes, the mini quiches are wrapped in gold foil. No, they won't poison you... but no promises about the guests. just try to be friends. You might even make some new ones."

The other guests laughed but I didn't know whether to join along or break into a sweat. I felt Zoey bumped her hip against mine lightly and snaked an arm around me to pull me into her. I instantly lost my train of thought at her close proximity.

"That's your cue to get out there and talk up the guests," she hinted at me. "Butter 'em up before the talent show."

"Are you coming with me?" I asked, giving her my best puppy dog eyes, already knowing the answer.

"You're so cute," she turned towards me and gave me a small peck on the forehead. "Unfortunately, I have to do my own rounds. Don't worry, I won't be too far."

"Don't take too long either."

I grabbed onto her hand as she moved to leave my side.

"I'll see you soon, babe," she laughed.

She moved further away, making our arms stretch out 'cuz I refused to let go.

"Bye...," I spoked sadly with a pout.

"I'll be back before you know it, babe!"

My hand slipped out from hers and hung limply by my side. She blew me a kiss before turning her back to me and walked away.

I sighed and went to go talk to the other guests, already missing her presence by my side.

While I was mingling, I snuck glances as Zoey every once in a while. I would get distracted by the littlest things she'd do. From the way her smile lit up her face to her every hand movements to even the way she stood, I noticed everything. It's always been that way with Zoey. Ever since I met her, I'd always catch myself getting enthralled by anything she did. She was a force to be reckoned with and all I could do was stare in awe. She was a celestial being and I was lucky for her to even give me a second glance.

But that's what she did.

Zoey was by the snacks, enjoying a mini quiche when she glimpsed at my direction. She caught me staring and gazed back at me, locking her eyes with mine. I felt myself getting breathless as we shared a heated look. The electricity between us was palpable and I couldn't take it any longer. I needed to feel Zoey's arms around me.

I excused myself from the person I was talking to and made my way towards her, never breaking eye contact. I stopped right in front of her and just stared at her for a second before dropping into a stupid curtsy that I don't even think I was doing right but I didn't care. She was a queen and she deserved to be bowed at. I'm sure Zoey was used to my weird and dorky antics by now anyway.

"May I have this dance, m'lady?" I asked with a huge grin.

"You are so embarrassing," she giggled at me. "Of course you can."

I take Zoey's hand, immediately loving the comfort it brought me, and leaded her to the middle of the dance floor. If anyone deserved the spotlight, it was her and I aimed to give that to her. Being right at the center also helped me show my gorgeous date. I had the most extraordinary woman on my arm tonight. Why wouldn't I want to let everyone know that?

The only problem was that the dance floor was filled with couples doing old-timey dances that made me think of Pride and Prejudice. And I was no Mr. Darcy.

"So," I started, "here's the part where I admit that I've never taken a ballroom dancing lesson in my life."

"I took one, it was so boring," she rolled her eyes. "You have to hold your partner as if they're some sort of cadaver or something."

"Ew," I said but smiled, knowing I wasn't alone. "Are we about to embarrass ourselves in front of all the old waltzing couples?"

She studied me for a moment before breaking into a grin. "It's only embarrassing if you're embarrassed. And I don't have time for that."

You are so right, as usual," I chuckled. "In that case, let's figure out our own slow dance."

I saw her face soften as I took one of her hands, my other arm slid around her waist. I grinned at the challenging gleam in her eyes.

"You better impress me," she teased. "You know you took me away from the best mini quiche I'd ever had in my life, right?"

"I'm just up against a quiche?" I questioned with an amused look. "Psh, I've got this. And don't act like you didn't want me to ask you to a dance, I saw the way you looked back at me."

"Only 'cuz I couldn't help but admire how good you look."

I slipped my arm a little further around the small of her back, then spun her in a sweeping circle that made the skirt of her dress flare out. She laughed breathlessly, her hand gripped mine tighter. The orchestra was nice and all, but Zoey's laugh? God, nothing in the world could compare. My heart soared from hearing it and pride swelled in my chest just knowing that I was the one that caused that heavenly sound.

"They teach you this move in Farmsville, Fancy Feet?"

I breath out a small laugh. "Nah."

"Then where's all this grace coming from, Miss 'I've never taken a dance lesson'?"

"I'm just feeling inspired looking at you."

She giggled as I slowed down. She brushed her lips against my cheek, her voice warm in my ears.

"You're doing a good job impressing me."

I giggled and leaned my cheek against hers.

I brought Zoey closer to me, hugging her and swaying to the melodic tune played by the orchestra, feeling drunk off the grandness of it all. And yet, somehow, the best part of it all was having Zoey in my arms. I smiled to myself, wondering how the hell I got so lucky to be with her here.

I noticed a few people staring at us and whispered to her, "Is it just me, or is everyone in this room watching us?

"Def not just you. Kinda makes me wish we could just sneak away from all these prying eyes."

I looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "What are you saying?"

"Not whatever you're thinking off, get you mind out of the gutter." She rolled her eyes at me but smiled. I just want to sneak you out of the party for a little bit. I'd like to have you all to myself. What do you say?"

I grabbed onto her hand. "Lead the way."

"C'mon, let's find a place just for us."

The two of us snuck out a side exit and darted towards the deserted heart of of campus hand in hand and giggling , fueled by the giddy energy and crisp night air.

"Okay, reiterating, it is so hilarious that we took a limo to the gala when it's like, right on campus," Zoey said, still laughing.

"Idea for next year, we nix the limos, instead we roll out marble walkways from the dorms and everyone arrives fashion show style."

"Babe, your mind!"

We both laughed uncontrollably once again. She laced her fingers with mine, swinging our arms between us as we tried to keep our balance on the wet lawn. I looked at her and let out an involuntary grin. I've never felt happier than right now.

Then I noticed something. "Okay, quick question. The Zoey Wade I know would never walk through soggy grass in designer heels. You're not, like, an alien right?"

Zoey snorted and gave my hand a sharp tug towards her. I gasped at the sudden force but the sound was caught in Zoey's mouth as she kissed me.

"Does this prove it?"

"Mm, I'm not sure, you and that kiss do seem other-worldly. I think I need more time to figure it out..."

I wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her closer, kissing her again. Kissing her truly was transcendental. I shivered as she cupped my cheek, her thumb brushing my cheekbone. I don't think I'd ever get used to her touch. Every small stroke felt like lightning on my skin.

"And?"

It was hard to focus on her question when her beautiful face was mere inches away from mine. It didn't matter how many times I've been so close to her, she still had the same effect on me since day one. I was always a flustered mess.

"Don't they say that mermaids lure their victims by kissing them then dragging them into the ocean? I joked. "Just saying."

"You're impossible," she sounded exasperated but I could hear all the fondness in the world behind it.

A sudden, crisp, breeze blows through campus, blowing mist off the lake causing Zoey to jump.

"Cold!"

I brought my arms around her and pulled her into my embrace, trying to protect her from the cold. I felt her relax into me and hug me back, resting her chin on my shoulder.

"Y'know, I never really said we were done dancing...," I trailed off mischievously.

I couldn't see her but I knew she was smiling. "Hint received, Captain Obvious. Lets just take off our heels first, I can't risk them getting ruined."

We kicked our heels off and set them aside. We returned to our former positions and Zoey started to sway us slowly. Even though we were outside, we could still hear the faint music coming from the orchestra in the ballroom.

"To answer your question earlier, I knew no one would be here now," she spoke gently, quietly.  "We have this entire space to ourselves."

After a while, I noticed the orchestra started paying a different song. I recognised it as 'My Girl' by The Temptations. The music swells and I pulled back slightly to see a smile spread across her face as well. I gazed into alluring eyes. I couldn't seem to tear mime away from hers. Not that I would ever dream of it.

"What's that look for?"

"It's nothing," I brushed off. "I just can't believe we're actually here. We made it to the end of  this year alive. And I definitely couldn't have done it without you."

"Pshh, of course we did! We're bad bitches. You can't kill us!"

I giggled at her and agreed. "Truth. Still, I'm glad you're here with me... especially after everything we've been through. I really am so lucky to have you by my side."

I rested my head on her shoulder and let out a contented sigh before I continued, "Just a year ago I was a humble girl from Farmsville, and look at me now. Dancing with the most amazing, hottest woman I've ever laid eyes on at the Year-End Gala."

"I thought we agreed we we're tied for that title?"

I gave a little shrug and tightened my arms around her. I felt her reciprocate which only made my heart sing. "If you say so. From where I'm standing, I can't imagine anyone living up to your beauty. Or just you in general. You're an absolute goddess, Zo."

Zoey laughed lightly and shifted so she could embrace me further.

"If anyone can, it's the gorgeous girl in my arms."

I lifted my head from her shoulder to share a smile with her but after a second, she got this far-off look in her eyes. I tucked my head under chin and in response, she rested her cheek against the top of my head. I inhaled the intoxicating musk of her flowery perfume, leaving all my thoughts about only Zoey.

"What's wrong?" I whispered into her neck.

"It's just weird, looking back at this year. So much has changed in such a short time." She paused for a moment before resuming. "Before you got here, I didn't have any real friends. I started to think I'd never find a clique to fit into."

"Well, you didn't really get a clique. It's just me..."

"Babe, stop that. You're not just anything. You're everything and so much more."

I smiled into a neck, feeling myself blush at her words.

"I didn't think I'd meet anyone when I first arrived here too. I guess we got lucky that we found each other."

"So lucky." I felt her take in a deep breath. It's like the Fates conspired to make us an unbeatable friends-slash-roommates team."

"You sure you don't wanna add anything else to that?" I half-joked.

Zoey chuckled and nudged me to look up at her to give me a light kiss on the lips.

She looks me straight into my eyes. "I'll add one right now. How does friends-slash-roommates-slash-girlfriends sound like?"

"Zoey Wade," I pretended to be baffled even though my heart was beating like a drum. "Are you asking me to be your girlfriend now?"

"It's as good a time as any. It's romantic, isn't it? We're all dressed up, slow dancing to an orchestra playing a 60's love song with no one else in sight."

I beamed at her. "It's perfect."

I leaned up and gave her a long, passionate kiss, trying to convey all the emotions I felt towards her into it. Kissing her was always an experience. It was thrilling every single time. I could kiss her a millions times and I'd still be dazed by the end of it. I thought my heart was going to burst from how full it felt.

"In case that wasn't clear enough," I spoke breathlessly with a smile. "The answer is hell yes."

She grinned back at me, that heart-stopping, breathtaking, infectious grin of hers.

"I hope you know this means that this is our song by default now," she said playfully.

"It's only right. And I'm not mad about it, I'm glad even."

She pulled me into her once again and kissed me. God, I couldn't believe I get to call this woman my girlfriend. I'm the Zoey Wade's girlfriend. I smiled into the kiss at the thought.

I broke the kiss and rested my forehead against hers.

"What would I do without all the happiness you bring me?" I whispered.

"Aww, someone call Hallmark because that was disgustingly cheesy," she teased.

"Only 'cuz it's so true."

I cupped her cheek in my palm, feeling butterflies as she leaned into it. I wasn't kidding when I said I was still very affected by her.

"Really, you've been my sanctuary from all the bullshit. Whenever I'm feeling down, I just have to think of you and I feel better. Nobody makes me happy like you do. You're the first person I see every morning and the last person I see every night."

"Yeah because we share a dorm, genius." She was being a smartass but I could feel her cheeks warm up at my confession.

"And I wouldn't want it any other way. It's the best way to start and end the day. When I'm with you... things just feel right."

"I'm so glad you said all those embarrassing stuff so I don't have to." She leaned in to kiss my nose. "But I feel the same way."

"You say 'embarrassing', but admit it,  your heart's fluttering a little bit." Mine definitely was.

Zoey laughed brightly and spins me, then she dipped me low to the ground with a smirk.

"Try a lot," she whispered against my lips and gives me a peck. "You're a damn good dance partner, by the way."

Before I could respond, I felt water being sprinkled all over me and noticed both our outfits getting damp.

"Oh my god!"

Instead of freaking out and worrying about it, we just looked at each other and laughed. Nothing could ruin this moment and if we had to return to the gala sopping wet, then so be it.

"Who the hell sets the sprinkler to go off at this time?"

Zoey pulled me back up from the dip and into her arms, still laughing as we held onto each other, letting the sprinklers shower us.

I couldn't care less about the damn award or the gala or anyone else. The only thing that mattered was the stunning woman in front of me and that I was incredibly contented to just be here.

And the only thing that could make me feel this way?

My girl.

(More fics!)

[betterthebest]

Here We Go Again | An MJF Fanfiction

Status: *Not requested* Description: Bella was a teen wrestler working in the Indy circuit until an injury cost her her short career. She and MJF were friends turned lovers, turned strangers and friends again. What happens when she joins AEW to lead a faction with her ex? Will their history jeopardize their rekindled friendship?

A/N: This is an alternate universe (no covid :p) where MJF didn’t earn a spot in the inner circle. Hope you all enjoy my original story!

See also: (Part 1) ___________________________________________

Part 2 October 2020

Max called me out of the blue almost four years to the day we broke up. “I’m coming over, I have a plan.” He hung up before I could say anything. He came over with a plan, a contract, and Tony Khan. “You’re coming to AEW and we’re creating a faction,” Max grinned. “Wait, what?” I looked at him like he was crazy. This was the last thing that I thought would ever happen. “You heard me,” he held out a contract. I took the piece of paper in my hands and looked over at Tony. “Is this a prank?”  He laughed. “In two weeks, you’re coming out to Jacksonville. Put in your two weeks if you have a job” Tony said firmly. All three of us went over the plan. Being the leader of the faction is what convinced me to come back. I was apprehensive only cause I wouldn’t be able to wrestle. I went to work that night and did as Tony said. The next day Max came back to my house and we wrote out a promo. I had a talent for writing and any time I wrote a promo for myself, people loved it. I only did a few promos during my career since I’ve only been in one major company. We went over what I wrote three times that day. 

I had to rehearse for a few days at least to memorize. Two weeks passed and on that Monday, Max and I flew out to Florida. I ended up meeting with everyone I used to work with and it felt amazing. It was like time didn’t even pass with some of them. I ended up staying with Britt and Austin at their place. I didn’t want to intrude on them, but they both insisted I stay instead of paying for hotels. They were always the type of friends I could count on for anything. When Wednesday came, Britt and I drove to the arena. I prepared for the show by saying my promo to Britt to get her opinion. She loved it and said she was excited to hear it tonight. I dressed in black leggings and a black cropped long sleeve shirt. I changed out of my sneakers and borrowed black booties from Anna Jay in the locker room. She suggested I wear them. She’s the type of person that made anyone feel like a close friend. We talked by catering as the show went on. Later that night I met up with Max in the hallway before his match with Jericho. “You ready?” He said excitedly, trying to hype me up.  “I’m nervous, but I’m ready.” Millions of people were about to watch me live. The most I’ve talked to was an auditorium of 85 people. “You got this. Just focus on me, okay.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. He knew more than anyone that my anxiety could get the best of me. I nodded with a smile. “Oh and wear this.” He took a necklace out of his sweatpants pocket. It was the necklace he gave me for our six month anniversary. It had a single diamond on the chain. “You kept it.” I gave it back to him after we broke up. I wore it throughout our relationship, never taking it off until the day we broke up. “I did and I want you to have it back. I know we’re not together anymore, but you are my best friend.” I smiled a those words. He was still my best friend too and to hear him say that, made me so happy. I took the necklace from his hands and put it around my neck. “Looks great” Max said. He had to get ready to go to gorilla. He slipped his sweatpants off and tossed them onto a crate. “See you in 20 minutes,” he winked. I let out a chuckle and watched him walk away. I watched the match on a monitor in the back with a bunch of other people. My cue came when Max was about to hit his finisher. My music from 2016 played through the speakers. No one would recognize it besides Max which was the point. Max was distracted which caused him to lose. I stood on the ramp, arms across my chest. I got a mic from a stage hand. “Hi Maxwell, my love. Surprised to see me?” I paused, smirking. “You know, when I broke your heart...I felt nothing.” I chuckled. We wanted to pretend like our breakup was pure drama. I wanted to be seen just as heartless as his character is portrayed. “But now, looking at you in the ring, you look pathetic. I’m feeling very sorry” I said sarcastically. He stood up, Wardlow holding him up. “I have a proposition for you Maxwell.” I took small steps toward him. With my free hand I pushed my long black hair to my back. “I know you want to join a stable. We’ve worked so well together since we were 16.” I placed my hand over my heart. “Join me Maxwell, we’ll assemble a great team. Be my right hand man, what do you say?” He got a microphone. He pulled away from Wardlow and stepped outside the ropes, a couple feet from me. He leaned on the ropes before gaining his footing and takin a few steps forward. “On one condition.” He held up his finger. I nodded firmly. “We’re 50/50. You don’t control me, and I don’t control you. We both have a say in who is worthy to join. Deal?” He raised his brow at me waiting for my answer. I paused for a moment before answering. “50/50 you say?” He nodded and said yeah, but not into the mic. “You’ve got yourself a deal!” He smirked, “and Bella... Don’t interrupt my match again.” He was now inches from my face, bending slightly to look in my eyes. “You don’t control me,” I smirked. He nodded his head with a smirk of his own. Our foreheads touched. All of a sudden he grabbed the back of my head and went in for a kiss, but faked me out. I didn’t even pucker my lips. I was surprised since we didn’t go over that in our script. He walked away, laughing. Wardlow followed close behind. I turned and watched as he went up the ramp. The camera was behind me, closing in on the shot as that show faded to black. 

Once it ended, I went backstage running into Max’s arms. The adrenaline rush felt amazing. “That was awesome, I feel so alive.” He picked me up, spun me then put me back down on my feet.  “You were so good. I’m proud of you for getting back in the game.” “All thanks to you.” I smiled. We stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime. That faded when I heard Tony’s voice behind me. “Miss promo, that was great!” I turned around to see him and Cody.  “Glad you’re here” Cody shook my head. I had to control myself not to absolutely fangirl over him. I used to have a crush on Cody when I was 11. “Thank you. it felt amazing to finally do it after all my practice.” “I’m excited to see what you come up with next week,” Cody said and Tony nodded in agreement. Max put his arm around me, “she has a lot of ideas.” I looked up at him and smiled. He always knew how to make me feel important. He would go out of his way to lift my spirits whenever he could. And for the next few days Tony, Max and I consulted on the weeks to follow. Right now I have a year contract, but if all goes well I can sign more. I wanted that to happen for sure. I didn’t know what else I could do once this was over, but I tried not to think about it. I had to take it a week at a time and next week, I wanted to do something fun for the promo. I planned to find three pictures of Max and I when we were younger. One when we trained, one as close friends, and the last one during our relationship. “He’ll probably kill me, but it’s worth it,” I told Britt. I found the pictures on my phone in a backup folder from my old phones. I deleted a lot off of social media when we broke up. I deleted most of my wrestling pictures in a fit of rage one night. That was one of my regrets in life. It may seem small, but when wrestling is your life, it’s important.  I went back home to New York that Thursday night. Max drove me home where I still live with my family. “Wanna come in?” I asked Max before getting in the car. "Your food will get cold before you reach Long Island.” We picked up dinner on the way back. He laughed, “you’ve convinced me.” We got out of the car and got in the house through my separate entrance. We started eating right away, silence fell over us. He looked over at me when he finished. “Bold question,” he said out of the blue. “Go ahead,” I finished chewing my food. He never asked when he had a bold question, so this was odd.  “If we were to, you know, would that ruin things?” I swallowed hard. “Um, well it hasn’t ruined things before. We used to, you know at least once a week.” Max chuckled, “fair enough... But then again it took some years.” “But not because of that.” “Right, right.” We sat in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. “Wanna do it?” He shrugged.  My eyes widened, “right now?” Max nodded, “I mean, we can wait.” “Sorry, I’m just shocked.” I let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t mind,” I said softly.  “Are you sure?” “Let’s go,” I stood up. Max stood, his eyes widened this time. “Really?” I walked towards my bed and sat on the edge. “You coming Friedman?” I don’t know what I was thinking. Is this a good idea? Probably not, but I wasn’t thinking with my brain. He most likely wasn’t either. He came over to me and took off his shirt. Seeing him with no shirt and sweats on did things to me. He reached out and grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. “I don’t have abs anymore,” I said softly. He ran his hands up and down my sides, “still perfect.” He bent his head and brushed his lips against mine before locking them together. It felt nice to kiss him again. His arms wrapped around my body and he lifted me a little to push me back on the bed. He broke the kiss, “I missed that.” “Me too,” I smiled. That night was amazing. Memories flooded back. It was like we hadn’t missed a beat. Our bodies just molded together perfectly. We laid in bed, wrapped in blankets. Max held me close, his body heat radiating off on me. He would kiss my shoulder randomly from time to time. I always loved when he did that. “That felt great,” he said for the third time causing me to giggle. “It really did.” He spent the night with me. We went again before falling asleep. I fell asleep right away while in his arms. I will never forget that night.

[palettepainter]

Could I ask for some parent headcannons with Ectoloader? I’ve known of the ship but never seen art of them as parents. If no can I just have some headcannons of Haiya?

This ended up being mostly headcannons about Haiya and his relationship with some other students at UA and Ecto and Higari but a few at the start are Ectoloader

-Powerloader isn’t the most cleanest person. He has a little wash in the mornings, shaves if he needs too, and that’s it - off to work. With his job Powerloader often ends up a mess afterwards, even if he hasn’t used his quirk to go digging in the dirt. It gets hot in the design studio, and with Powerloader being stuck under that helmet all day he gets sweaty, and his hair becomes such a tangled mess, plus with his engineering he gets muck on his hands and trousers. Since no body really visits the design studio (besides students) Powerloader doesn’t really keep up appearances, unless of course theres some big meeting in which case he’ll clean up a little. Ectoplasm has tried to get Higari to take better care of his apperance such as taking a shower or a bath once in a while but Powerloader doesn’t really see the point in it - more times then either will admit but Ecto has had to chase Higari round the house just so he can take a damned bath. Ectoplasm may have a lot of clones but Higari has a lot of strength, plus being smaller he can find much more places to hide. Ectoplasm either gives up, manages to drag Higari to the bathroom, or compromises and joins Higari

-Based off an Ectoplasm x Powerloader story I read but Ectoplasm is ticklish. Higari discovered this accidentally when the two where cuddling and his hand brushed over Ectoplasm’s ribs making him stiffen and squeak. Ectoplasm had hoped Higari wouldn’t think too much of this, but he was wrong. Very wrong. Powerloader is a sneaky little weasel and has found through testing his theory that tickling Ectoplasm is one of the fastest ways to get him to unwind, and with Powerloaders added strength he has no issue wrestling Ectoplasm so that he can tickle him.

Higari isn’t as ticklish as Ectoplasm, but his weak points are his neck and ears. Ectoplasm had a suspicion that might be the case since his ears and neck are always covered by that scruffy mane of hair. One day the two where at home, Higari has pulled his hair into a loose ponytail that hung over one shoulder, leaving his neck open for attack. Ectoplasm watched him for a moment, before very lightly tickling his neck. Higari full on jumped at the unexpected tickling attack, actually surprising Ectoplasm, who hadn’t expected that great of a reaction. Needless to say Ectoplasm enjoyed getting his revenge    

-When Hatsume is over she becomes Powerloaders right hand in the design studio, and while she still is prone to blowing up the occasional machine every now and then Higari sees explosions and fires in the studio as just a regular start to a morning. Higari has come to just expect something to blow up when he goes into work, if sometimes doesn’t it’s a miracle. Ectoplasm doesn’t take Higari’s warnings on Hatsume’s inventions all that seriously, she’s just passionate about her work. One day, say their anniversary or something, Ectoplasm and Higari had planned to go out for the evening and thus needed someone to watch Haiya. All the other teachers where busy but in the end Ectoplasm manages to find a sitter and the two leave. While having dinner Higari casually asks who it was Ectoplasm found to watch Haiya, in which he replies Hatsume.

Cue Higari spitting out his drink - If Hatsume is watching Haiya then who’s watching Hatsume?!

They end up going home an hour early and return to find their home untouched, totally fine. Higari has a moment of stunned silence before doing a double take and looking round the home.The only problem they found was that Haiya was up a little late, that was it. Higari was still suspicious but Ectoplasm thanks Hatsume regardless. It’s only two hours later when Higari finds no hidden broken object or exploded oven does he awkwardly admit that Ectoplasm was right, and then apologizes for ruining their anniversary dinner. The two end up having a small make out on the sofa (At this point Haiya was in bed) and then counting said make out in the bedroom.

The next morning Higari lumbers to the kitchen to make a coffee..only to find the coffee pot broken. 

Powerloader made Hatsume but him a new one

-Hatsume and Iida end up having a kid, and dear old Powerloader was the very first to know, by that I mean Hatsume just showed up a work with a baby after he was born making Powerloader choke on air because ‘HATSUME  YOU BROUGHT A BABY TO THE DESIGN STUDIO?!’ - Powerloader isn’t bad with kids but he’s no Merry Poppins, but he was at least smart enough to know a baby of all things didn’t belong in a design studio. Dealing with one Hatsume was hard enough, and now he had a mini Hatsume crawling about the place. Powerloader ends up roped into babysitting becasue Powerloader was not letting Hatsume’s machines do the babysitting while she was gone somewhere. Dear little Tensai (Iida named his kid after his brother) grows up loving Powerloader and, to Powerloader’s relief, is less prone to blowing things up. Powerloader is dubbed ‘Grunkle’ by Tensai, a combo of Uncle and Grandad. Higari tried to get him to call him one or the other, and failed miserably. Ectoplasm finds the name quite sweet and can’t help but snicker at it

-Before meeting Ectoplasm Haiya was nervous about the topic of his arms, even with prosthetics he saw his lack of arms as a failure - his view on this was caused mostly by his biological parents, if they had raised him in a better way Haiya wouldn’t have grown to be as sensitive about it. Ectoplasm was called in by Eri who runs a therapy center in my NGAU. Haiya was brought to the center along with Kowai and Furu (I know I haven’t done as much stuff with Furu so to anyone who’s new she’s another MHAOC who goes on to be adopted by Bakugo and Sero) as orphans. With no biological or adoptive parents the three stayed at the center while Eri and other staff helped in their recovery. Whereas Furu was more defensive and hostile Haiya was more nervous, he didn’t (and still doesn’t) have an issue with heroes, but his low self confidence has led to him being somewhat anti social, it can be hard for him to start conversations with new people, especially adults or people he looks up too. Ectoplasm was a big help in boosting Haiya’s confidence, so much that by the time students where allowed to apply for courses at UA Haiya was given the opportunity to study there. With Eri’s parents (Aizawa and Mic adopted her) working at UA Eri is able to give kids at the center the opportunity to go to a proper school when she feels they have progressed enough to fit in with a school environment, and when their are spaces available on certain course

He was given the choice to be on the hero course, with his quirk it was likely he’d pass the entrance exam. Though Haiya himself has no issue with hereos or those who decide they want to be a hero, Haiya no longer wishes to be one, his old parents didn’t really give him much of a choice for his career, so Haiya decided instead to apply for general studies, so that he could explore his own interests.

-Haiya doesn’t like Jin. Jin is another OC who goes to UA and is in class 1B on the hero course. Jin is in short an ass, he’s coy and rude and will say whats on his mind, even if it’s impolite. Jin has a knack for hitting people where it hurts, since joining UA he’s gotten better with his attitude but he’s still got a long way to go. Haiya’s kind of scared of him to an extent so tends to avoid him. He’s disliked Jin ever since he made an arm joke

Jin: Hey Haiya

Haiya: Hm?

Jin: Mind lending me a hand?

Haiya:....Banned

Jin: What?

Haiya: That joke is BANNED!

-Haiya’s attitude can sometimes come off as overbearing. He’s very over the top and easily excitable, which can lead to people thinking of him as annoying or stupid. Haiya attends counselling with Hounddog to help with his anxiety, and he also writes stuff down in a book, he finds writing down his thoughts and feelings easier then talking. Haiya can be mature and chill when he wants to or if it’s needed, but that’s often rare. Haiya acts more childish then most kids his age because he didn’t really get a very fun childhood with his bio parents, he’s trying to make up for lost time

-Haiya has dyslexia, this is still something I’m learning to write about accurately so if anyone has any tips on how to write a character well with dyslexia let me know. In Haiya’s case he has difficulty reading and interpreting words and letters, and when Haiya was little and was in a public school, it deeply affected his learning. His parents thought home schooling would be better for him, but it just lead to Haiya becoming more anxious over his own intelligence. Due to this Haiya can be reluctant to try something new and sometimes needs encouragement from a friend, he also has a fear of failure so when he does pick up a new hobby he does genuinely try to give it his all. Praise gives him a lot of confidence so words of encouragement do a lot to his confidence. 

Before Haiya went to UA he along with others at the center got some school education. The center did classes for certain subjects over the weekdays and did stuff like small tests and gave out homework pieces for them to complete in their own time. Eri uses these classes to decide which kids would be better off going to a propper school, and which ones need more help then others. Haiya was one of the kids that needed some help with his work due to his dyslexia. Eri put two and two together when she brought Haiya aside to talk about his progress and he ended up admitting how he has difficulty with reading sometimes

-Before his arms where removed Haiya had both his mothers quirk, Overclock, and his fathers quirk, A quirk that allowed him to speed up or slow down the movement of an object based on touch with electricity he generated from his body - the draw backs to this quirk being that to generate the electricy he had to sacrifice his on energy. The more he generated the more tired he’d get.

With his arms gone his second quirk was also gone, so he only has Overclock now - however he can still use his second quirk, just in a different way. With his quirk Overclock Haiya can generate big amounts of electricity in seconds, I’m still planning on how Haiya discovers this as he himself isn’t aware he can do this, but the draw back to the quirk is that it’s essentially an instant knock out both for himself and his opponent. Generating large amounts of electricity all at once and so suddenly severely drains him of his energy, so it’s a guarantee when he does use this quirk that he’ll pass out shortly afterwards until he has better control over it.

[anime-apparently]

Hello, may I request both a female and male ( to be matched with, if that's alright to ask for) matchup please and thank you for Food wars . LINK -  The first part is shortships (.) tumblr (.) (com) (without the parentheses). You can take as much time as you need to, I don’t mind being patient & waiting.

I match you with...

NAKIRI ALICE

- Alice took interest in you upon seeing you around a lot in her classes

- she may act childish but she sees through people really well

- she keeps on bugging you to be her friend (and honestly she flirts a lot but you never notice it huhu) and soon you give in

- there are tons of moments when she'll scold you on blending in with people and trying to act the way others do

- she hates that you say you're fine even if you aren't and she hates that you think people hate you if you act as you are

- so she slowy helps you out your shell

- she's surprisingly good with handling occasional anxiety attacks

- you two share the perfectionist attitude and it takes Ryo to stop you both once you two decide to perfect a dish

- she's so happy when you start being really comfortable around her (it took a couple months) and would often send Ryo away to spend time with you

- Kurokiba Ryo kinda scares you but he's a good friend too

- both of you get bored easily so i can imagine weird trips and activities

- you two match a lot- both of you are stubborn too and while you have the temper, Alice can control hers so she's like your anger management counselor

- you normally are more distracted than her and she gets grumpy when you get distracted and not pay attention

- it was by the second year that you two got together and it was Ryo who got you two together

- holy shit you didn't expect Ryo to give you a pep talk but he did, he asked you to put your worries aside and what others would say and put your happiness first

- Alice was the one who confessed (she had been confessing since last year but you can't really pick up the signs)

- she got annoyed (jealous *cough) in one of your rants about how your cat did something and you weren't paying attention at the dish she's serving so she just slammed her lips to yours

- "See you're a good kisser! That means you'll be a good girlfriend! Bye, Ryo-kun!" *proceeds to drag you to a five star restaurant for a date*

- she teaches you how to speak in Danish and you just fall more uwu

- the amount of romance novels she had recommended to you tho

- it's surprising to you that she knows how to play videogames but when you saw her and Ryo playing Mario Kart once you understood she knew more than should be for a Nakiri

- your sarcastic side is something she treasures a lot like the burn from you like damnnn "did you hit your head when your mom held you? Oh wait, she probably didn't." fuck when you said this to Erina's dad (albeit under your breath) she just burst out laughing

- she takes great joy seeing you be clumsy because despite her childishness she's still a Nakiri who's probs perfect in everything so she's not a clutz

- she enjoys seeing you tongue tied especially if she flirts with you "Hey, that top doesn't look good on you. I think I'm the top that would look good on you." "Alice- I- aaugjnskvfjdnz."

- you get insecure about you and her's relationship because of Ryo but she assures you that she belongs to you only

- you also get insecure what would people think of your relationship

- once there was a student who brought up your sexuality and Alice snapped (she made out with you in front of everyone thaz hot)

- Ryo is insanely protective of you two especially on dates (once -actually a lot of times- when you two had a rare PDA moment, he glared at everyone who tried to even look the slightest bit disgusted)

- she pushes you to think of yourself first before others

- she's a really sweet girlfriend who brings out the best in you

- you two really go well together and you're a power couple

I match you with...

YUKIHIRA SOMA

- this boy i swear asdfghjkl

- he doesn't really know how to read a mood so he'll just randomly pair up with you and talk up a storm

- he makes you panic because there are times where he's really messy and your OCD just kicks in

- but he's the sweetest boy

- you two get in trouble a lot for being distracted in class

- he's really persistent in being friends so after a few months, you give in

- like Alice, he urges you to be more open and to be more outgoing

- he doesn't mind that you're a human chameleon and he understands it takes time

- he's really patient with you and always thrive to make sure you're comfortable

- he laughs it off if you're temper goes up and calms you down

- you two didn't get together until end of second year

- you're both dense in romance anyways and it hurts to watch you both acting all sweet and shrug it off as a friendly thing

- "what type of friend cuddles on the same bed and sleeps spooning especially if you are opposite genders" is what yuki said and honestly she's right

- it started when Soma once saw you having a panic attack and now he occasionally slips in your bed to sleep with you and make sure you're safe in his arms

- he likes seeing you tongue tied and would often tease you about it

- he likes flirting with you too and see your red face (but poor boy is probably not that good with it)

- "you know, Peter Pan said if I think of all the pretty, beautiful things I'd be able to fly. But why is it that when I thought of you I fell for you instead?"

- *cue you turning red and tripping over your words but you managed to blurt out* "did you just call me ugly or told me you fell for me?"

- in this tho you are the one who confessed, it was the simple typical confession and he's so relieved (apparently he's crushing on you too)

- you help him create weird dishes especially when you're bored and you both laugh if it tastes really bad

- there are a lot of game nights

- he doesn't really like books so you're probs the one reading while he goes and just watch you read peacefully and scrunch up your nose in distate at parts where the characters annoy you (he finds this really cute)

- this little shite probably brings spiders to show you just to scare you

- he's your pillar to lean on and he knows perfectly when to intervene if you get frustrated trying to perfect something

- you are both sarcastic and quirky so there are a lot of childish banter

- he laughs at you if your clutz side kick in before helping you up

- there are really a lot of experimental dishes you two create

- while he's impulsive at times, you tend to carefully weigh out the options so it stresses you if he accepts/initiates a food war

- he breaks your insecurities and is a really supportive boyfriend

- he always says "you are the best girlfriend in any plane of existence."

- like Alice, he might be childish but he's not ignorant

- he instantly knows if something is wrong, he makes sure your mental health is stable, he helps you express yourself more, he actually broke your habit of saying "i'm fine" when you're not

- he can see if a guy tries to flirt with you (apparently he's not daft when it's about you) and he scares them off

- he's a really caring boyfriend and knows when to cheer you up

- your fears slowly disappear because of him

- because with him you know he won't abandon you

- your relationship is built on trust and honestly you two are a power couple

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! I'm so sorry it's late but thank you for your patience. I really have the match ups lines up in my notes but I tend to procrastinate in posting them.

[lvlyhao]

Moments (Tom Holland x reader)

A/N: first Tom one-shot I actually completed! The reader is a female since it’s what I am used to working with. If I keep writing, I’ll try to make everything GN. Sort of proud of this, and I hope you all like it^^, and if you do, please like and reblog! 

Warnings: none. This is pure fluff.

Info you might need: Castellucio is a small village in Italy, and a very pretty one at that. It’s known for the flowerings that take place in the fields, every Spring. There are fields of lentils, poppies, violets... and I chose the red poppies.

Y/N = Your Name. M/N = Middle Name. L/N = Last Name. H/C = Hair Colour. E/C = Eye Colour. F/C = Favourite Colour. 

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

When the first rays of sun peek through the sheer curtains, Tom’s eyes flutter gently. The world is hazy the moment he opens them, seeing the entire room melt golden under the light. The air feels warm and balmy over his bare skin, immersing the two bodies in amenity as the early birds chirp outside.

Two bodies.

Finally coming to himself, the brown-haired boy stirs under the satiny sheets, looking for the glow of his lover. When his hand bumps into her, his heart beats faster. There she is, fast asleep, snoring softly and sprawled on her back. Her delicate skin seems velvety where glorious drops of light dance upon it. Her hair, H/C and silky, spreads over the ivory pillow like a halo. Soft, swollen lips give out peaceful breaths, and her hands are neatly folded over her stomach. A dot of glimmer attracts his gaze, and on her left hand, he finds the elegant ring. His ring, that he gave to her just yesterday.

Thinking back to that moment, it seemed like ages ago. The crimson fields of poppies of Castellucio encircled them and contrasted with her F/C dress—the one he always said was his favourite. His chocolate locks were an absolute mess from the wind, and he could only imagine how sweaty he looked, wearing a polo shirt and dress-pants under the scorching sun. Y/N didn’t seem to mind it that much, though. 

The second he kneeled on the grass, she started sobbing and grinning like a dork. It was endearing, how she couldn’t refrain from smiling even when he was talking about their (many) embarrassing memories. That tiny detail made him fall even harder for her. Every sliver of doubt he had left dissolved when she interrupted his speech, falling to the ground in front of him and lacing her arms around his neck. 

“That was enough”, she had muttered, “just ask the damn question already!”. Tom chuckled, reviving the way his voice cracked when he followed her request.

“Y/N M/N L/N, darling”, he grasped her hands, “will you marry me?”

Tears flowed down their faces as she nodded soundlessly time and again, too thrilled to find her voice. He slid the ring in her finger and they stood there, arms around the other and bawling their eyes out. For an instant, there was nothing else there—the flowers were gone, the Sun was hidden by the clouds, the winds turned into a breeze and even the smell of the Italian summer vanished. It was just the two of them, clinging onto each other for dear life and drowning in the chaste feeling of love. It was easily the best moment of his life.

Was it really?

Drinking in the sleeping figure of his fianceè, Tom thought about the day he met her. 29/04/20, a Wednesday, when he went live for the Marvel pub quiz. It had been genuinely amazing, to interact with his followers like that. He could still hear Harry's voice, telling him what to do to invite people to join the transmission.

“Such a grandpa”, he had said, shaking his head in amusement. Tom ignored him, randomly calling a username from the live chat to answer the final question—what does S.H.I.E.L.D stand for? 

The bright face that popped onto the screen one second later took his breath away. She had the most beautiful E/C eyes, sparkling with kindness and life. H/C strands framed her face, and her smile made his heart skip a beat, even with the low quality of the video. 

It was like everything around him froze; no one dared to move, fearing the moment would shatter. 

Except for his brother, though, seated to his left. 

“Oi, mate”, he nudged Tom, “read the question.” 

The brunette boy snapped out of it, covering his blush with a smirk and pretending he couldn’t hear Haz snickering behind him. Is it that obvious? 

Yes, of course, it was. How could it not be, when not only was she the loveliest girl he had ever seen but also a Marvel fan?

Y/N got the question right, not missing a beat when he asked. The three of them, on the other side of her screen, cheered a bit louder than necessary, and then he ended the live. Both his brother and best friend teased the hell out of him for the next few days. The fandom, of course, made memes about it, and eventually, Tom slid into her DMs. It was the beginning of a wonderful friendship.

Tenderly clasping her right hand, not to wake her up, the boy shifts and stares at the ceiling. It is painted baby-blue and makes him think of the sweater she wore to the first Christmas spent with his family.

While juggling university and her job after quarantine ended, meeting his family wasn’t a top priority for Y/N. She and Tom always spoke about it, guessing how it would be like, but she was not ready the day he made the offer. 

“Go to my family’s Christmas Eve dinner. I promise you it’s gonna be awesome, they’re gonna love you! And if you feel comfortable, you can sleep there and spend Christmas with us. If you don’t, I’ll find a way to get you home in time. Please, love”, cue puppy-eyes. She couldn’t find it in her to say no to that, but she had never felt more jittery than in the week before the dinner.

When the 23rd rolled around, she was tense the entire day. Tom had tried everything to make her unwind, from running a hot bath to giving her a massage and attempting at making muffins (which turned out burnt and very salty). When he started to feel as helpless as his girlfriend, 5 pm struck, and they left to his parents’ house. The ride there was made in silence, only broken when he turned to her to whisper how much he loved her.

The next 2 hours or so went by in a blur. He couldn’t exactly spot how it all went—the first contact with his brothers and parents, finally meeting Haz, introducing her to Tessa… the first memories of the actual dinner began with what she told him, days later, about the exact moment she clicked with everyone.

The first person she befriended was Harrison. He was very sweet, keeping her company when Tom would leave to help his mom with something and making her feel at ease. The one point that made the two grow close was his cooking. She had seen both the hot bread and the pancake video, and just couldn’t help but bring them up. At first, he seemed quite bashful, but when Y/N said she couldn’t cook either, he decided he liked her. They talked for a long time, telling their most awkward cooking stories, and Tom watched everything from afar. I knew they'd get along.

Next was Harry, the sassy younger twin who seemed sort of intimidating. It’s not that he was mean, not at all, but he had a strong presence and for a split of a second, she thought he hated her. The tables turned when she mentioned her interest in photography and directing. It was all laughter, jokes and deep conversations by the fireplace after that, talking about some of their favourite films, photographers and directors. Harry turned out to be very kind, and the time she spent with him made her feel welcome.

With Sam, things were a bit different. Whenever Tom mentioned the twins, she thought the two of them would hit it off immediately. Apparently, though, she was too shy to initiate any kind of interaction with him and vice versa. Haz sensed her discomfort from the other side of the room and went to her aid. For the next 45 minutes, he acted as a bridge between them, keeping the chat going until they were talking like old friends. They bonded over the fact that they were huge Marvel fans, and discussed several theories for the next movies, as well as their favourite characters. Oh, how she loved the twins.

Getting to know Paddy was a challenge as well. He wasn’t timid but also didn’t seem very interested in talking. For most of the time, he played with Tessa quietly, time or another chiming in with a remark about something. It didn’t help that he was the youngest. Thinking back to everything Tom had told her about him, she couldn’t find a single topic to bring up. He was a high school kid, and that summed up everything they didn’t have in common. What would she talk about? Physics? Football? 

Things only clicked in her head when Tessa left his side to come to lick her hands, asking for pets and tossing around a rubber ball. So Y/N went outside and played catch, mutely hoping the boy would come around to play too. Soon enough, he did, and she bonded with the two of them at the same time.

By the time Nikki and Dom were finished with dinner, they were the only ones she hadn’t talked to a lot just yet. All the nerves that had gone away while she got to know the boys were back the moment everyone sat at the table. 

That was it. His parents. If they didn’t like her, chances were slim the relationship would last very long. Tom was a family person, and she'd never make him choose between them and her. 

She put on a charming smile, praying they’d get along, and complimented the food. A lot. Probably way more than she should, but there was no stopping now. It was her anxiety talking the wheel, after all. Luckily for her, they took it as a sign she was putting effort into making a good impression, and that was enough for them.

In one month, she was the closest thing to a sister the Holland boys had ever had. Things were fantastic after Christmas, and Tom could see a bright future for them. Waking up by her side was what he loved the most, but he could go on and on about every little thing he adored in her and their relationship.

One time, he did. It was their anniversary of two years, and Tom giggles at the mere thought of that. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong with his plans did go wrong, and he cried in front of Y/N, thinking he had ruined their special day. She took him in her arms, standing in the downpour at his favourite beach, where they were supposed to have a nice picnic. A long-forgotten basket was by her feet and the two were soaked to the bone, feeling a rainbow of emotions at once. 

Of course, she wasn't particularly cheery, but seeing Tom like that hurt, so she pushed her own frustration aside to take him home. There, wrapped tightly in 3 blankets and with a cup of cocoa in his hands, Tom was spoiled to death. They watched a bunch of Pixar movies, ordered pizza, took a bath together and, when the clock struck midnight, went to bed. 

The day was perfect, just not in the way she and Tom had imagined. It was better, actually, and the British boy decided to show her that with an impromptu speech. He had never been very good with words, but when he delicately cradled her face between his hands and began talking about the reasons why he loved her, he couldn’t stop. He told her about every tiny detail in her, from the way her nose crinkled when she smiled to how considerate she is. Recalling the moment she shut him up with a teary kiss, Tom realized he might have a tendency to overdo speeches. 

Now, lying side by side with the person he treasures above any other, he feels overwhelmed with love. The urge to take her in his arms, hold her close and defend her from the world brings a grin to his face as he gapes at her once more. Her eyes are starting to flutter, and soon she’ll be awake. 

Then, they’ll make plans for the afternoon and the night, since the morning is ending at this point. They’ll build one more memory for him to think about and laugh, and to someday tell their children about. They’ll go and live their dreams, cherishing and caring for one another. They’ll go and live thousands of perfect moments, because every moment by her side is the best of his life.

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

tagging some people I love here: @chaoticpete​ @underoosjae​ @spider-parker04​ @gwenvrse​ @lost-space-ranger​ @allegra-writes​

[alchemist-shizun]

5 times Logan saved the day + 1 in which ... well that could’ve gone worse!

General taglist: @whizzie72 @sapphire-knight @burningpersonflapsuitcase @softanxiouspatton @royallyanxious

Word Count: 2,716

Characters: Logan, Roman, Deceit, Virgil, Remus and Patton

Pairing(s): Logicality

Warning(s): Misgendering, crying, implied aphobia

Summary: People could say Logan was excellent at saving people in extremis. When it came to him in particular, though … what could he say. He gay panicked.

A/N: Am I not just great at summaries? I had yet to do one of this type of fics so here goes nothing. I also took the opportunity to expand the lgbtq+ rep I have in my writings, hope you don't mind! Idea originated from this post, then @pistachio-lan inspired me so yeah thank you bud you're cool. Pardon me if some scenes are too short and other much longer I can't control my creative flow anymore-- I hope you all enjoy!

1- In which Logan saves Roman's day

Entering class with the widest smile any human muscle could ever bear, Roman practically bounced towards his seat.

A group of students immediately surrounded him, few were the times where one expressed such profound happiness first thing in the morning.

Logan eyed him from his desk right next to Roman's.

People started gathering and asking what was up with him, pushing the boy, who couldn't stop smiling, to confess the reason of such joy.

« I just had the most wonderful time last night. »

Multiple voices overlapped at that, with classmates asking for details, clarifications … who it was.

Only that, Roman had forgotten for a moment that literally none of them knew the only person he could have had a date with was a boy.

That was Logan's cue to act.

« You guys are aware we had to do a quick research for today, right? »

A chaos of “what?” and similar shocked expressions ensued, driving the attention away from Roman.

« The teacher said he was going to ask what we found out about the most recent discovery on Mars. »

« Oh, you've got to be kidding me. » that one kid that, for some reason, was always ahead of the program, hit their head against the backpack they had laid on the surface of the desk. « I literally spent the whole afternoon yesterday looking stuff up and I left it all at home! »

The situation could only worsen, people frantically ran around the room with some friends, competing at who found information first.

The hint of an amused smile crossed Logan's lips.

« You just made that up. » he heard Roman go, who had noticed his behavior.

« Isn't it lovely to watch the whole class go wild with dismay? »

Roman snorted and absorbed their classmates' despair. « You're a mean one, Lo. » he kept looking ahead of himself. « But thank you. »

Neither of their smiles faltered.

2. In which Logan rescues Deceit from a probably very uncomfortable explanation.

Nights out with friends often meant the weirdest stuff was about to happen. The one time they had started to jokingly call one of their group “Deceit” was definitely one of their top moments.

But, especially, the most delirious ones happened when they threw ridiculous YouTube videos or vines in the lot.

« Look at this. » Logan and Deceit leaned on the table towards their two friends. It was an extract from a song Bo Burnham had released years prior.

And, well, when certain comments come to you naturally … there's no way to stop yourself before the deed is done.

« Oh, that's me. » Deceit had said. Or, actually, Deceit had said right upon hearing the lyric “half-boy”.

Promptly forgetting for a single instant his other two friends had no clue of him being a demi-boy.

Not even the hint of a single trait of confusion could paint their friends' faces when Logan intervened.

« I've actually seen one of his shows in person in the past. »

« Oh my goodness, you have? » wide eyes stared at him with deep interest.

As the three engaged a conversation on the comedy skills of the man, Deceit was able to steady his heartbeat and take some deep breaths to release the anxiety that had taken over his chest.

He caught Logan's eyes when the waiter had arrived with their orders; he raised a hand and pressed his fingers to his chin, then moved them slightly outward in Logan's direction.

Thank you.

Logan gave a small nod and, just like that, everything went back to the regular outing.

3- In which Logan is Virgil's coolest cousin.

To say Virgil despised having guests over for the night was an understatement. He was obliged to tidy up his generally messy but comfortable room when all he ever wanted was to sleep for eternity as soon as he touched his pillow.

And, of course, there was always something out of place that his little cousin pointed out. Not that he had allowed her to follow him when he had excused himself upstairs.

He heard Logan's voice echo « Miranda! » around the steps.

The door to Virgil's room opened and Miranda was already jumping on his bed.

« Viv! Your bed sheets are so fluffy! »

Virgil forced himself to smile. “She doesn't know.” he repeated in his mind. “It's just a nickname.”

« Miranda, didn't you hear your parents telling you to stay down? » Logan's reprimanding tone made the kid giggle.

« Maybe. » the two older cousins shared a playful eye roll.

« Come on. » Logan held his hand out towards her.

« But I want to stay in her room to see what she does! »

She doesn't know.

« Have you ever heard of privacy? »

« Nope. » Miranda laughed.

Then she noticed something and her eyes grew with curiosity.

« What's that? »

Virgil's eys followed her gaze and fell upon his binder. Of course, out of all things, she had to notice that.

He went to open his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. What could he make up this time? Whatever he told her, she would have wanted to try it on at all costs.

Were he to say the truth, though ... she'd have probably gone to their relatives talking about how he had a weird piece of clothing and that could only end badly.

« Oh, that must be part of your future cosplay? »

Virgil snapped his head back up only to be met with Logan's quick wink.

Keep it up.

« Oh, yeah. I have to sew some things on. »

Miranda gasped in amazement and clapped her hands together. « Can I try it? »

Damn.

« I'm afraid you should have your cousin's exact size. If not, that particular material would be damaged in the ending result. » did he keep lying only to protect him?

The kid whined but dropped the disappointment right away. « What's the name of the character? »

« Virgil. »

« Who is he? »

« Well, just ... » Virgil narrowed his eyes, looking for the best explanation. « Just a boy. »

« Why him? » Miranda was in that brilliant age where everything needed to be questioned.

Logan checked with a side glance to see if his cousin needed assistance. Instead, he found him smiling to himself.

« It makes me happy. »

The little girl seemed pleased enough with that answer. « Then can I cosplay with you one day? Carnival is near! »

« Of course, I can make whichever costume you prefer. »

She squealed in joy and threw her arms around him, squeezing him tightly.

Then, she started running off towards the stairs. And she said it.

« Thank you, Virgil! » giggling was heard, but, apart from that, complete nothingness.

Until Virgil dropped on the edge of the bed with his hands covering his face, a slight tremble could be seen shaking his body.

Logan was immediately by his side, offering one of his rare hugs that Virgil gladly accepted.

It felt so nice. Achieving a goal prematurely but ultimately feeling the satisfaction melt away with the knowledge that he was never going to experience that ever again.

What an utopic illusion.

« It's fine. You're okay. » Logan tried, as his cousin's body shook with every sob he failed to repress.

« I'm sorry. »

« Don't be. »

Virgil let go of him as he started wiping his cheeks clear of fresh tears of fear and frustration.

When he looked at the other again, there was a hint of a smile dancing on his lips. « You're the best cousin. »

Logan returned it. « Always glad to be of help. »

4- In which Logan prevents Remus from carving his eyes out out of annoyance.

The blissful rest lunch-break gave after hours of mostly a quiet balance between interest and boredom was the most important reward as noon approached.

That wasn't exactly the case all the time.

Logan and Remus were sitting with two of their classmates who just so happened to have lab afterwards with both of them.

It wasn't like the they were particularly irritating people, on the contrary they radiated a calm energy most of the times.

That one day, though. It seemed something had happened in one of their lives and they needed all the time in the world to get every single detail out. They involved every one of them in the conversation and everything would have been fine if they had stopped at simply asking opinions on the matter.

« C'mon Remus, how about you? »

« What? »

« You never talk about this stuff. » one of the two leaned forward. « Spill the beans. There has to be someone you like. »

Remus smiled falsely. Oh, he was so done. They had gone the last fifteen minutes trying to get out of him information that he didn't have.

« Of course! You if you stuffed your mouth with trash bags and finally stopped talking. »

« Aw, stop being weird and evading the question. »

Logan eyed the one who had just spoken.

« I am not, I just don't care. »  Also, since I'm aromantic, I'd really appreciate if you stopped before I prohibit your breathing.

« Everybody gets crushes! »

And I'm about to crush your face.

Remus's hands started fidgeting out of stress under the table, which Logan noticed.

He was about to snap.

« I do. »

The two lab partners' eyes widened and focused on Logan all at once.

« You what now? »

Remus's face was painted with a confused expression: he knew his friend would never open up about himself to acquaintances, let alone about his feelings.

It was what happened after that made him understand.

The other two completely concentrated their attention on Logan, started asking questions about the boy he had been referring to, trying to guess who his crush was almost as if it was a game or anything of their business.

It … did feel kind of sad.

As Remus was able to catch his glance for a sole moment, he wore the “you didn't have to do that” expression.

All he saw was Logan shrugging in a “it doesn't matter” way and carrying on with subjecting himself to the pain of their classmates.

He made a mental note to remind him how grateful he was for that funky little nerd's existence.

5- In which Logan is the Patton protector.

Having friends living nearby school sometimes meant hang out invitations. Also, it often times meant free food which was everything that was good in the whole planet.

Logan had internally beamed as Patton had come back to the living room asking him to stay for dinner, while he had pretended not to hear a faint “Would you like to stay forever?” coming from his little sister.

He had tried not to agree right on the spot, but it was difficult to hesitate when being asked to spend even more time than intended with one of his favorite people.

That was how the two of them were now sitting with Patton's lovable family, discussing unimportant things and just all around enjoying their time.

Logan loved being around them, it was a delightful break from the coldness in his own home, he could get along with all the components just fine.

There was a television behind Patton's parents; they hadn't been exactly listening to the news, but it seemed a broadcast about the recent Pride parade in town was being held.

« Oh look! » Patton pointed to the screen with a toothy smile as a pan flag flashed across the TV.

He froze while his parents' expression grew perplexed the more they paid attention to the news.

« You really need to get rid of this habit you have of getting excited when you see dogs. » Logan started, adjusting his glasses as Patton and his parents turned to him.

« Why? » Patton's confused tone was half-real.

« You almost startled me simply because there was a dog on television. »

That was when he understood. « It was an adorable husky, Logan! »

Laughter started to fill the room and the previous disorientation was soon forgotten.

As his guest stood up to get more food, Patton heard a whisper being stealthily delivered to his ear.

« Be careful. »

He couldn't help but smile to himself. Logan was always on the lookout for others and it was a quality that almost came natural to him.

And he needed to thank him for that properly.

6- In which Logan forgets to stop himself.

An echo of “thank you”s rained down on Logan yet again as he and Patton stepped out on the garden of Patton's home.

This time, though, there was none to prevent him from potentially ruining his relationship with his interlocutor. And, ultimately, even everyone else around him.

As his cousin was used to believe the worst outcomes to happen, it did actually affect him at times. But, in that moment, he had gone completely blank and forgot to steady his impulse control.

« I'd do anything for you. » was what aimed fire.

He had meant to only think that.

Yet, he didn't find heartbreak and misery.

Instead, he watched as Patton's expression softened even more. Patton got a few steps closer, so that only Logan could hear his murmur.

« I feel the same. »

Logan's eyebrows arched slightly. Happiness quickly gave way to a clenching feeling in his chest.

« No, wait. » he responded, looking down and then back up. « I don't think that's a good idea. »

Patton's eyes narrowed for a moment. « For me to like you? » that was absurd and maybe his tone was a bit hurt.

Why would he say something like that?

« Lo, you're a wonderful person, and- »

« No- I mean, it's not that. » Logan gesticulated, trying to find the best explanation without actually telling anything.

« Logan, you know whatever you'll tell me, all the good things I think of you won't change. »

The boy took a deep breath, some of the weight relieved already.

« I am asexual. » he looked away immediately. « And I know plenty of people despise that and say it's not real, so if you don't- »

« I think that's wonderful. » when Logan met Patton's gaze, he found one of those smiles Patton only dedicated to him. « And I don't see why I shouldn't like that about you, too. »

A smile slipped on Logan's face, the dreadful feeling leaving space for relief. « Now you're just making it too difficult with your unconditional love. »

Patton let out a quiet snicker. « Well then, » his tone grew bolder. « We could talk this over dinner sometimes soon if you'd like? » he had clapped his hands together, looking up at Logan with a twinkle of hope in his eyes.

« That was too sly for me to refuse. »

« As if you weren't happy I just asked you out! »

All Logan could do was, of course, groan at how flustered that line made him. « I'll concede that to you. »

As the time to part drew nearer, Patton took two steps back, thoughtful.

« Are you okay with hugs right now? »

Despite having told his friends years prior of how he had never fancied physical touch that much, he was always grateful whenever they posed that question.

« I am. »

« Alright. » Patton stepped closer again and wrapped his arms around Logan's neck, who returned the hug rather quickly as he heard a quiet “thank you” being whispered to his ear.

Then, the shorter boy stepped away, but kept his hands on Logan's shoulders.

« You're my hero. »

With that, Patton was gone.

And Logan was left astonished in the middle of a summer's night.

[seth-storm]

On the Stage (Short Fic)

(Sorry, I am bad at writing songs. I did try though!)

Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit, Sympathetic Remus, Roses

Ships: N/A unless ya really squint in which case it’s my favorite ones

“Wrong, wrong, wrong!” Roman sighed, exasperated. He was trying to write a song, but he couldn’t find the words to describe what he was feeling. He strummed his guitar, the notes perfectly in tune but not quite right in his head.

The other sides didn’t know he wrote songs. It was for two reasons. One, he didn’t want to be mocked and ridiculed if they were bad. Two, some of them contained really personal ideas. They were all said in an abstract sense, but anyone who knew him would be able to easily figure it out. Right now, he was trying to write about how he put part of himself into every character he played on stage, even unwanted parts of himself, but no one noticed and they all came back to him at the end of each show. That was the best way he could explain it, but there was so much more than that. There was the joy of doing the show with his friends, the sadness of relating to a character so much and not being able to help them, the stress and absolute relief at the exact same time he got from merely standing in front of an audience, and the jealousy that came from realizing all these character’s problems ended when the show did. Logan always found his shows silly, Virgil normally worked tech and didn’t watch, and Patton was usually busy baking refreshments for afterwards. Deceit came occasionally, and for that Roman was grateful, but there was really only one person Roman wanted to come. Granted, he had come before and completely messed up the atmosphere with his bad humor, but Roman wanted him to really come. To sit and watch. To actually approve of him, for once. He could wish that, right?

He looked at the yellow and red flowers on his desk, knowing in a few weeks they would wilt and he’d throw them away. His last memory of this play. He’d liked this play, it was a fun and upbeat comedy with a subplot of romance... and murder. It was challenging, but his character had an overinflated ego, so it was easy for Roman to project onto him. And every night when he was stabbed in the back by his brother, leaving his true love waiting for backup that would never come and leading her (Roman was only straight when the script said he had to be) to her demise, Roman felt that. Roman empathized with the man who didn’t know his true love wanted to confess her feelings that night, the man who never knew love, the man whose own brother shunned him. It hit a little too close to home. But it was good to get it all out on stage, and as people like Thomas and his friends (and the rest of the town Roman brought into being through imagination) came to see it, Roman felt a bit more at peace. Now, those feelings had come back, and they were haunting him like the wilting yellow and red roses sitting on his desk by his long-memorized script.

“Hey, that’s not a bad idea.” Roman smiled, strumming a C chord. Ugh, no, not C major. That was too happy for a song like this. D minor would work for now.

Wilting roses on the desk I used,

To memorize my lines and cues,

They said “the show must go on!”

And then it ended

We all broke our legs

And then they mended

“Ugh!” Roman sighed, leaning back in his chair. Nothing he wrote sounded any good today! He wanted to write the rest of the song but he couldn’t! He strummed the guitar more passionately, pouring his feelings out into an improvised song.

Sometimes you put yourself up on that stage

When it’s supposed to be someone else, someone who is fake

Sometimes your acting is a desperate plea,

But those watching see the character, not me.

But those watching see the character, not me.

Deceit cocked his head, listening to the music that rang through the mind palace. It was quiet, and he was willing to bet none of the other sides were listening hard enough to hear it. “It’s happening again.” He said quietly, and Remus looked up. “Are you going to go tell him this time, or wait like you do every time?”

“I can’t just tell him, Snake,” Remus protested, “You know that. It’s more complicated than sticking an elephant’s trunk up my—“

“I get the picture,” Deciet sighed. “Don’t you realize by now your approval means the world to him? You’re his brother you know. No matter how many times he insists he hates you, he doesn’t. He just wants you to be there for him.”

“But I’m not,” Remus laughed bitterly. “I never have been. I’m a ‘dark side’, Deciet.”

Deceit sighed, looking at a picture hanging from the wall of a boy in a black jacket and black shirt smiling and standing beside a boy in yellow, a boy in green, and a boy in orange. “So was Virgil.”

Remus stopped, looking at the same picture Deceit had chosen to stare at. He knew the side missed Virgil. They all did. But Virgil was adamant that he had found a new life. A better life. Remus wanted to get close to Roman, he really did. But what if... what if he lost his yellow? What if he lost his orange? Would they be fine looking at the picture and seeing both the boy in black and the boy in green had left? They’d be alone, just the two of them. “I can’t leave you alone.”

Deceit smiled at Remus, tears (real tears, not crocodile tears) in his eyes. “You can’t leave him alone either, you know.”

The audience claps and I bow

The cheering for me so silently loud

I said my lines that’s why they care

I smile at air

While the one who matters most

Isn’t even there

Remus nodded, standing up and walking down the hallway, entering the light side’s part of the house. Virgil gave him a weird look, which he ignored and kept walking. Logan told him he shouldn’t be here, but he kept following the music. Patton tried to ask him what was wrong, but Remus was going to go make something right. This time he would. This time for sure.

Sometimes you put yourself up on that stage

When it’s supposed to be someone else, someone who is fake

Sometimes your acting is a desperate plea,

But those watching see the character, not me.

But those watching see the character, not me.

Roman, not caring who heard anymore, belted out the bridge with all his soul, making up the words to express his emotion as he went. He might have been crying, but he couldn’t tell. He was too caught up in the moment.

They see the man who is playing someone else

Who’s giving everything he has to get rid of himself

And maybe he wouldn’t give so much if he knew what he’d receive

A bundle of wilting flowers... no, there must be more for me

Remus—

Roman’s voice broke, but he kept on singing anyway.

You’re the only cheer I need.

Remus, on the other side of Roman’s door, paused with his hand on the handle at these words. What if he disappointed Roman? What if his approval wasn’t everything Roman thought it was going to be? He heard a new voice singing now, and it took him a moment to realize who it was. It was him. He had started singing. Had he gone absolutely insane?!

Sometimes you put yourself up on that stage.

And you want the world to see who you are and stop and be amazed.

But the part you play is meaningful to me.

When you get off that stage you’re the friend everyone needs.

You get off that stage,

And those watching see,

You’re the one person I wish I could really see

You’re the one whose roses mean the most to me.

Roman got up and went to the door, not believing what he had just heard. He opened the door slowly, hoping against hope Remus would be there.

Remus ran back down the hallway. He couldn’t tell him face to face. He couldn’t. Roman would hate him and be disappointed. He scoffed at himself. “I thought Virgil was anxiety,” he thought to himself as he sat down heavily on the dark sides’ couch.

“You chicken out again?” Deceit asked.

“Yah, but I still kind of told him.” Remus sighed. “I left a note. Butchered and heated to perfection pecking bird sounds good right now.”

“I’ll make chicken for dinner. In any case, I suppose that is better than last time, where you essentially ding dong ditched his door and blamed it on The Stiff(TM).”

Remus sighed, looking at the ceiling. “I guess... do you think I’m a disappointment to Roman?”

Deceit shook his head adamantly, sitting next to the troubled side. “No. Roman would be a fool to not realize he has an amazing brother. I know he says he doesn’t like you... but he also says he doesn’t like Virgil and look how that ended up.”

Remus sighed, leaning his head on Deceit’s shoulder. “Thanks, Snake. You’re the white line on my figurative road that stops me from playing the best game of bumper cars ever.”

Deceit smiled slightly. “I try.”

To Roman’s chagrin, Remus wasn’t there. He tried not to be disappointed as he saw the empty hallway and Virgil’s closed door right across the hall. Well, after fantasizing Remus had come to bond with him, he decided he could use some comfort. He needed a good cry, and Virgil was a great person to have a good cry with. He stepped forward, expecting carpet beneath his bare feet. Instead, he felt the crumple of a paper on the floor. Roman picked it up and read it, a massive smile breaking out on his face as the good cry came prematurely. In the best possible way. On that note were the words Roman had always wanted to hear, scrawled in the exact same messy handwriting Roman had.

I’m proud of you, big bro.

Tags for short fics (you can always request to be on either TLS or this list! (Also if somehow you got either list off tell me because I lost the list on my old phone and I’m using the ones on previous posts.)):

@stop-it-anxiety @idunnosong @ms-top-hat @sapphirebluluvsu @littlewolf432 @winterrs-child @anxiousvirgil13 @remusownsmyuwus @emmillie @nutmegandgingersnaps

[team-free-will-you-idjits-67]

This Crazy Life (Part 5)

This story is PURE fiction. I mean absolutely NO harm to Jared or his family. Especially Gen. (Also, no Gen hate or I’m blocking your ass cause it’s not tolerated here.)

Description: Your life changed the moment Jared Padalecki walked through the doors of your shit job, in your shit town. You helped him as much as you could, becoming extremely close. (Characters, Warnings, etc. will change per part.)

Characters: Jared Padalecki, Reader, Atlas Waitress

Word Count: 1310

Warnings: Fluffy, some mentions of anxiety. 

A/N: Sorry it’s been awhile. This last semester of college and working at the same time is DRAINING me. I hope to start releasing regularly again soon. 

Taglist

Masterlist / Jared Padalecki Masterlist / Part 4

You and Jared talked over your pizza for hours, eventually picking at cold globs of cheese on paper plates.

You chuckled as the waitress walked by giving you both the stink-eye, “I think she wants her table back, Jare.”

He smiled and nodded his head, “Yeah. I’ll leave a pretty big tip though to make up for it.”

You dug in your purse, “I can contribute.”

He waved his hand towards you, “No. You drove here, you’re helping me. I’m paying.”

You put your hands up dramatically, “Okay, Mr. Padalecki.”

You got up as he threw a 100 dollar bill on the table and softly smiled towards him. He was going through, arguably, the worst thing in his life and he was being kinder to strangers than you’ve ever seen someone be before in your life. He blew your mind. Literally.

As you walked out of the restaurant, Jared caught the waitress. “Money is on the table upstairs. Keep the change.”

She nodded and smiled as she walked up the stairs, probably figuring he gave her a couple extra bucks for a tip. Not seventy. You both snickered as you heard a muffled squeal filter through the restaurant.

Brisk Spring air hit you both as you exited ‘Atlas’. You instinctively wrapped your arms around your torso, trying to keep heat from escaping your body. Turning towards Jared you asked, “What do you want to do now? Go back to the hotel?”

He sighed and put his hands in his pockets as he looked down Market Street. “I kind of want to explore down here. This looks like a really cool street.”

You shrugged, “Okay. Which way do you want to go then?”

Jared pointed and you followed. You walked around Market Street, continuing conversations about yourself and answering any questions that Jared had. Every once and awhile you’d ask him a personal question. You both were getting to know each other pretty well, even in the short 24 hours that you had been together. It was nice. You had only dreamed of meeting Jared at a convention one day. But walking down an everyday street of your life with your favorite star by your side? This was something you couldn’t even fathom.

“Y/N?”

You looked up towards the gentle giant with a smile, “Yeah?”

“You kind of disappeared there for a second. You okay?” Worry was etched across his face. Was he really worried about you? Did he think he was boring you?

Chuckling you responded, “Yeah. I was just thinking about how crazy this is.”

“How crazy what is?”

You tucked hair behind your ear, “This. Meeting you. Eating with you. Walking around with you.” You exhaled deeply, “This was something that I never imagined in my life would have happened. I always thought I would just meet you for a couple seconds at a convention and that would be it.”

He nodded with a wide smile, “I guess this is kind of crazy, isn’t it?”

You softly scoffed while you dug in your purse for your keys, “Yeah. Don’t get me wrong though, even though the circumstances completely suck, I’m happy to have met you and help you out.” As you approached your car, Jared opened your door for you. You smiled as you slid into the driver’s seat, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He paused with your door open, “I’m glad to have met you too, even though the circumstances.” He gave you a small smile before he shut your door and walked around to the passenger side. As he settled into the passenger seat and fished his phone out of his jeans pocket, he blew out a long breath. “I’m nervous,” he said as you started the ignition.

You smiled and laid a hand on his knee trying to provide some comfort, “I know. But this will be good. I’m sure people are starting to wonder where you are at this point, and Jensen will be the best person to let know where you are right now.” You took your hand off his knee and shifted the car into reverse, pulling out of the parking spot to go back to the hotel.

Jared nodded as he unlocked his phone, “You’re right. I should at least let someone know where I am.” He sighed one last time before he hit Jensen’s contact in his phone and began the call.

You swear the phone didn’t even ring once before you heard a muffled, “Jared. Thank god.”

Jared chuckled, “Hey Jensen.”

You focused on the road as you merged onto the highway, trying not to eavesdrop on the conversation between Jared and his best friend, but it was hard not to.

“I’m okay man, I ju-just needed to get away.” Jared cleared his throat, “I’ll be back before filming starts.”

You couldn’t hear much of Jensen on the other end of the line. Jared rolled his eyes a couple times, causing you to smile and giggle softly. They were literally brothers.

Jared turned towards you, “Where is the closest airport?”

You bit at your lip, “Uh, that depends. Do you want a 45 minute drive from the hotel and a more expensive ticket or a two hour drive and a cheaper ticket?”

“Did you hear that, Jense?” Jared nodded as Jensen spoke to him, “Where is the airport that’s 45 minutes from the hotel?”

“Elmira.”

“Elmira,” Jared repeated into the phone. He nodded once again, “Okay man. Let me know then. Thanks, bye.”

You focused on the highway with a raised brow, “What was that about?”

Jared huffed, “Jensen is flying out here as soon as he can. He’s such a worry wart.”

You chuckled, “Well, it’s understandable. You dropped off the face of the map. You can say you’re okay but he won’t know until he sees you.”

He rubbed at his face, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“So, he’ll let you know when he has a ticket?”

“Yeah.” As if right on cue, Jared’s phone went off. He scoffed as he looked at the message he received, “I guess he’s getting on a flight tomorrow morning and will be here tomorrow afternoon.”  

You nodded. Keeping quiet as you got off the highway and drove towards to hotel.

If you thought your anxiety was bad before, it ramped up with the idea of Jensen coming into town. How would Jensen react to the fact that you were helping Jared? Would he be upset? Would he be grateful? How would he react towards you in general? Would he think of you as a fan who were trying to get something out of Jared, or even himself?

“You okay, Y/N?” Jared asked as you pulled into the hotel’s parking lot.

You put the car into park and looked towards him. His eyes danced across your face with worry, making you feel at ease and slightly stupid at the same time. You gave him your number to help him, and here he was, worried about you.

You smirked, “I’m okay. Just… nervous.”

His head quirked to the side, “Why are you nervous?”

You sighed, “I just don’t know how Jensen will act towards me, or this.” You looked out the windshield, “I just don’t want him to think I’m trying to get something out of either of you.”

“He won’t think that.”

“How do you know?” You asked as you focused back towards him.

He smiled, “Because if you wanted something out of this, you would have blackmailed me for it already.”

Your eyes went wide with shock, “Wait, people have done that before?”

He chuckled at your reaction, “Yeah, they have. More when we were younger though and didn’t know any better.” Jared patted your hand on your thigh, “Everything will be fine Y/N. I promise.”

You swallowed thickly and giggled, “I hope so Jare. I hope so.”

Tags: 

Forever Tags:

@emoryhemsworth , @nanie5 , @gabrielslittleangel, @alexwinchester23 , @witch-of-letters , @caswinchester2000 , @justawaywardwinchester , @thehufflepuffblog , @kittenofsarcasm , @missihart23 , @spnfamily-alwayskeepfighting, @team-free-gallagher, @rhiannonj79 , @curly-haired-disaster, @mogaruke, @supernaturalsammy01, @heyitscam99, @hobby27, @crazyrebelbitch87 , @frozenhuntress67, @gracefultrenchcoat494 , @duskany, @mazie87

Sam/Jared x Reader Tags:

@agentaguilera-kaz2y5, @andyl394, @justkindafloatingalong, @rebelminxy, @totally-magoatally, @jointhehunt67 , @m-i-c-r-o-w-a-v-e-s , @xxtheoutsidersxx , @paradoxical-sleep 

This Crazy Life Tags:

@my-proof-is-you, @somilotopia, @everythingisoverrated, @emilyshurley, @squirrelnotsam , @drakelover78, @mymoriii , @1-800-kill-me-im-gay, @mannls, @sillydecoy, @daphne-fandom-writing, @haloliight , @racheladams77, @spn-ficfanatic

[latenightcinephile]

#890: ‘Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)’, dir. Alejandro Iñárritu, 2014.

Film critics are fond of making sweeping statements, and every time they do, they’re immediately met with a barrage of ‘what-abouts’ that render the original statement pointless. So as much as I want to say that Birdman is one of the five best films made in the 2010s, I won’t - not least because I haven’t given any serious thought to what the other four would be. What I will say is that Birdman is a great film, and one that resonated with me far more than many of the other films I’ve seen in the last decade. It’s ambiguous, imaginative and thoughtful, and I genuinely think the Academy got it right in awarding it (and Alejandro G. Iñárritu) Oscars.

Is my interest in this film because I spent most of my university years in the theatre, and gained a familiarity with the best parts of the art, as well as the worst, most pretentious parts? Partly. Is it because Iñárritu developed the film with the idea of having it appear as one long take? Partly, although the list has no shortage of films that were actually filmed that way, and Birdman lets the effectiveness of this technique slide a little in a few moments where it’s impossible for the actors to have moved between locations. Mostly, Birdman resonates with me because it’s about creative anxiety, and about those two little voices that drag you between doing things that are meaningless but make you popular, and trying to do things that are meaningful but which you suspect you won’t ever succeed at.

Riggan Thomson (Michael Keaton) used to be big in movies - about twenty years ago he starred in a trilogy of blockbuster superhero films - but after rejecting that art as too meaningless, he’s turned instead to putting on a Broadway play based on a Raymond Carver short story. When we first meet him, the preview season has just started, and Thomson needs to replace an actor. He immediately thrusts this job onto his producer/lawyer/best friend, Jake (Zach Galifianakis, almost unrecognisable here behind a pair of scholarly glasses), who seems to take an almost masochistic pleasure in solving problems. Riggan’s daughter, Sam (Emma Stone) is wandering around, fresh out of rehab and resentfully acting as her father’s assistant; his girlfriend Laura (Andrea Riseborough) is unsure if she’s pregnant; new Broadway actress Lesley (Naomi Watts) suggests her boyfriend, troublemaker Mike (Edward Norton) as a replacement for the former actor.

There’s not a single weak link in this cast - everyone in the film is at the top of their game - and Iñárritu makes the most of the performances. Working with Emmanuel Lubezki as cinematographer for their first feature collaboration, the director pushes into tightly-framed static shots for the more compelling dialogue sequences. This technique gives the arguments and agreements a greater immediacy simply because we’re tricked into believing as much time has passed for the characters as has for us - which is to say, none at all.

When things go surprisingly wrong for the characters and the play, there’s also nowhere for us to escape: the only thing that ever takes the camera and the audience away from something going wrong is something worse going wrong. At one stage, Riggan is trapped outside the theatre just before his final cue, and with his dressing gown trapped in the door he is forced to take the long way around in his underwear. Bursting in through the audience, after a string of humiliating encounters with autograph-hungry New Yorkers, Riggan gives a cringeworthy performance, gesturing wildly with his fingers until a stage manager gives him the prop gun. Just when we’re expecting to watch the whole embarrassment, Jake is dragged away by a phone call, and we go too. We’re left in the hallway upstairs for one of the few prolonged periods of silence in the film, and then we hear the gunshot, and the applause. It’s a victory - a rare event in Birdman - and we don’t get to watch it.

I’ve been roaming around threatres since I was a kid, and I’ve enjoyed looking at them in the same way Iñárritu does here - from the wings, from the lighting rigs, from the stage. A theatre is a place where things can be made that matter, but they’re also places where it’s easy to get trapped. I’ve been in technical rehearsals that lasted for five hours and in some of the most abysmal public domain school productions. Despite that, I know people who are doing incredible work in the industry. When Jake and Riggan are tossing around ideas for replacement actors, a few names come up: Woody Harrelson; Michael Fassbender; Jeremy Renner. All these actors were doing blockbuster franchise work at the time, and it’s clear that Iñárritu has some thoughts about the relationship between fame and theatre, but these moments also say a lot about what it means to make something that matters. Riggan is upset by the idea that he’ll never succeed at anything beyond the blockbusters he deliberately walked away from, but he’s even more upset by the prospect that those blockbusters mean more in the grand scheme of things than the play he’s working on. He’s surrounded by people who think he’s an egocentric fraud, or those who falsely tell him he’s brilliant, and he’s also haunted, quite literally, by Birdman, too.

In the end, Riggan has to do something stupidly drastic to make theatre that means something. I don’t know if it was intentional, but the glowing review he receives for What We Talk About When We Talk About Love is hackneyed to the point of feeling sarcastic.

In other words, Alejandro Iñárritu doesn’t always get it right. There’s a lesbian subplot that lands with a confused ‘thunk’, the sound you get when you hit a steel barrel and find out it’s empty. Some of the ambiguity of Riggan’s character is a bit grating, too - it’s clear that his ‘superpowers’ aren’t real, as they seem to manifest only in moments of emotional weakness, and are never commented on by others, but the ending of the film only really has an impact if these powers are real, if they’ve actually manifested in the real world.

But oh, what we get instead of certainty in this film more than makes up for it. Because of the ‘one-take’ conceit, Birdman had to be scripted in great detail before filming started, and the precision required to film that means that everyone is on top form at all times. Even with the roving camera, the imagery is perfectly-framed and everything, from the hallucinations to the stagecraft, looks like a vivid dream.

Every now and then, we’re lucky to come across a film that feels like it speaks our language. Not in the broader sense, but in the specifics - a film that knows what we look at, what we say and how we say it. For me, that’s a film about being excited and afraid; a film about making art of different kinds and bring one set of skills to bear on another; a film about time passing and not passing at the same time. Birdman is the film that speaks to me. It’s on Netflix right now, so it’s worth spending two hours with: I hope it speaks phrases in your language too.

[hello-justawriterofthings]

To go against the Church.

---------------------------------------------- Requested by the lovely @rachelcarroll1819

I changed it up a little, I hope you don't mind. I got lost halfway through writing this, so keep that in mind.  

Hey guys. So, this is a short little story. I've been really bad with my depression and Anxiety recently, I feel like it's just getting worse. I did want to get this request out, but as of right now I'm not going to accept anymore. I just have 0 motivation to use my brain to come up with anything, all I want to do is play the sims and just lay around, no thinking required. I do hope you enjoy this, even though I know it's not my finest work, but the struggle is real. Thank you so much for Reading, You're all amazing <3<3 There's spoilers, so if you haven't seen the movie, I'm so sorry.

You're in an unstable  relationship with Black hat, but are the Sister of Hicks and Best friend Of Lucy. ----------------------------------------------

The Priest's gave their everything to protect us, but once the war had ended, they faded out of existence. That is, until one day the vampires returned with a new leader that no one saw coming.

Walking through town was depressing at times, the church overpowering every decision made by everyone. Confessions constantly forced, if the rules were not reinforced, punishment would would come. Because, to go against the church, is to go against god. We weren't supposed to talk to the Priest's, or to socialize with them. Yeah, my confession was that I had once been in Love with a Priest. When the war hit, he was taken and killed by the Vampires. But of course, Nobody new about us, because it was forbidden for them to be with anyone. Also, I was never told what had happened to him, so I always  wondered. I let out a sigh, looking through the newspaper. Suddenly pulled into the alleyway, "What?... Hicks!" I exclaimed pulling him into a hug. "Hey sis, thought I'd find you here..." He stated looking worried, "What are you doing here?" I questioned seriously. "It's Lucy, she's been taken... By vampires" he stated seriously, I furrowed my eyebrows "What? Are you sure?". He nodded "Her dad's hurt bad, mom didn't make it... I'm going after her", my brows rose slightly "When do we leave?". Hicks sighed deeply "I can't ask you to do that, you can't risk you're own life to help me", "Hey, she's the only friend I have. We were raised by the same dad remember, I’m just as good with a gun as you are" I stated with a slight smirk on my face. He sighed while nodding his head "We're going to be needing help, her Uncle's a Priest. Do you know where they usually are?" , I nodded while pulling him in the direction I knew Lucy's Uncle Lived. Once we reached the building we headed up, the priest could sense our presence from the moment we arrived. "Who are you?" He asked Harshly, clearly worried he was being tracked. "Hicks, I'm the Sheriff of a small town near here. This is My sister Y/N. We're here because you're niece Lucy was taken by a pack of vampires, you're brothers been hurt bad" Hicks stated quickly, "And Shannon?" the priest asked. Only to have Hicks shake his head, after explaining the rest of the story to him, we headed out, hoping the priest would change his mind and Help us after all, but if not. We were planning to take it on alone.

Hicks and I arrived at the Pace's small house that was located in the middle of nowhere, finding the priest already inside. "Are you sure you two are up for this?" The priest stated glancing at me, "Oh please, I'm an expert at tracking and a better shot than my bro over here" I stated while rolling my eyes. "Good, you're going to need it" he stated, before the three of us climbed onto out motor bikes and took off towards the town my brother was the sheriff in. "Your name is familiar, I had a friend and a fellow priest who talked about a Y/N. The way he spoke was forbidden at times, but if he was allowed to love, I'm sure he would've picked her" the priest said, making Hicks glance at me, but I avoided all eye contact. "What happened to him?" I asked, "Not sure, our team entered a hive, we thought we had found the queen, but it was only a trap. He was taken and I couldn't save him" the priest sighed while carving crosses into a bunch of bullets. Then he eyed my reaction carefully, perhaps I was the Y/N from the story. At dawn we road towards a known hive, after being tipped off that Lucy was being taken west. I let out a deep sigh as we entered, but ended up running into a second priest. "Who the hell are you?" Hicks and I questioned at the same time, but she was a priestess. Who ended up helping kill the hive protector and the four of us to find out that there was a new army of vampires bred. And we were in for another war. The town of Jericho was taken down first, three priests strung up dead and the rest of the residence killed or taken. "What kind of vampire could kill three priests?" Hicks asked, "A very powerful one" the priest stated while looking at he priestess. 

Fast forward to when we figured out that Lucy was being transported on a train, run by a man with the name of Black hat. And when we ended up on that said train, shit went down. Hicks went searching for Lucy quickly, leaving me behind. Before the priest saw Black hat, my eyes laid upon him. "I was hoping you'd come along on this journey Y/N" Black hat stated with a slight smirk, I furrowed my brows in confusion "You knew we'd come for her". "Well, I knew her father would come for her and her little boyfriend, who just also happened to be your brother. So yeah, I planned for it" Black hat stated with yet another smirk, "Why don't you take a seat, I'm sure you'll be staying for a while". I sighed deeply, this was no longer the man I loved and admired, he was but a stranger. I pulled my gun out of the holster and pointed it at him, "You won't shoot me, you and I, we love each other remember" he stated with a slight chuckle. I shook my head "I clearly was mistaken in your character", still with the gun pointed at him, I never broke eye contact. A banging came from the roof of the train, Black hat smiled "That's my cue, I've got to go take care of something. Stay here, I'll be back for you and then we can finally be together at least". He then ran quickly towards the train door, locking me inside. "Shit" I sighed, banging on the door. "Y/N?" Hicks called from the other side before somehow getting the door opened. "What happened?" he asked, causing me to sigh "Ran into someone I thought I knew, but turns out he's a monster". "You're the Y/N from the priests story, Y/N how could you fall in love with someone you knew was not allowed to love" Hicks stated, "We have more important things to worry about then my love life alright, let's find Lucy and get the fuck off this train" I sighed. He nodded and we headed off further into the train.

Pounding came from the roof of the train, which made me think that it was a Priest vs Black hat smack down coming from the roof. Things went so quick after we finally found Lucy, Hicks was thrown off the train. Lucy and I stood next to each other as Black hat and the Priest kept fighting. I didn't understand what this was all for, power? "As much as I'd like to stay and have a chat, it's time to get serious. Join me Y/N, I can take you to the queen, you can become like me and we can rule this forsaken earth" Black hat stated, but as I looked behind him and saw the priest hanging on the wall, I made my decision. "Never" I stated as I grabbed my gun, shooting three times at him, before black hat grabbed Lucy and jumping through the whole in the roof. Then I was thrown off the train by one of the Vampire slaves, through the same hole my brother went out. As I collided with the ground I let out a hard moan, letting my eyes drift shut, losing the world around me to darkness. I don't know how long I was out for, but when I came to, my eyes opened slowly as I groaned deeply. Hicks and Lucy were standing in front on, worried looks on their faces. The priest and priestess looking at me, "Did we win" I questioned with another groan, causing the group to chuckle. "We have for now, but the war has just begun" the priest stated as he helped me up, I sighed deeply while giving both Lucy and my Brother a tight hug. In the end, the Priest and Priestess rode off into the sunset in search for the other priests, because the war had just begun. I ended up going back to the town where Hicks was the sheriff of, I was no longer in search for that man I thought I loved. He was gone and it was time for me to move on, spend time with my brother and Lucy. I was ready for the fight though, To go against the church was to go against god. So, I guess anyone who fought in this war, were going against god.

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

So, I know this was bad. I had no clue what to write but because it was requested, I felt I needed to come up with something. I wrote this and I'm posting it within the same day, which is a first for me. Hopefully, someone will enjoy it. Thank you all so much for reading, you're all Amazing and I hope you have an amazing day <3<3

[thekrazykeke]

This is so much fun, I swear before Jesus! As a big family person myself, writing about the reader’s family is cathartic. Mainly because families spill the tea in my stories more than the main character ever will 😙🤣

Boop.

It’s easy to get caught up with Erik, to be swept up in his energy. Although you’d tried to maintain a ‘slow and steady wins the race’ mentality when you’d agreed to be his girl, somehow, someway, the two of y’all just dived headfirst into a relationship. 

More often than not, you ended up staying the night over at his crib and you didn’t always use the excuse of wanting to play video games to go see him. He surprised you by how affectionate and touchy-feely he is, though you tried to get used to it and reciprocate in kind, you had been on your own for a good stretch and some habits are hard to break. It didn’t irritate him (so much) anymore and he even took it with good grace, seeming to make it his mission to wrap an arm around your waist that more often, kiss the back of your neck, or pull you into his lap, etc.

Nadia noticed the change in y’all dynamic and while she said that she approved, there was the feeling that she was distancing herself from you, which hurt, if you were being honest, since the two of y’all had hit it off instantly and been flatmates for over two years. 

However, you weren’t the type to beg anyone to be friends with you if they didn’t want to. 

The independent streak that your mother had nurtured in you your whole life wasn’t disappearing anytime soon, if at all, and occasionally, it clashed with Erik’s habit of spoiling you with too much of, well, just about everything: clothes, shoes, hair, nails, etc. Hell, he had paid off your portion of the rent for six months (you’d managed to talk him out of paying off the entire year just barely). While you would like to say that you were happy, and most of the time you truly are, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“Girl, you stupid.” Breanna, your older cousin, stated bluntly. “This nigga is payin’ bills, showering you with gifts, and, wait, is the dick good?”

You swirled the spoon in the bowl of ice cream, unable to meet her eyes. “So good.” 

“Did you hit ya head or somethin’? I should walk out of this cafe right now. You called me alllllll the way out here with a SOS text message and I’m thinkin’ it’s a serious situation.” Giving you the stink eye, she stabbed her slice of pie viciously. “Bitch, you is living the dream.” 

“It is a serious situation.” Ignoring her ‘girl, stop it!’ look, you purse your lips, “Like, I don’t know where he works, what he does for a living. He told me a little bit about his childhood, but...” 

“Y/N, baby cousin, I love you like a sister, and because I care about you so much, I’m going to say something that might hurt your feelings.” Breanna comments, putting down her fork.

“Oh, damn. Lay it on me then, cuz.”

“Your current boo is not your stank ass ex, Mitchell. Girl, you need to celebrate, apparently yo pussy so good, you got a hotep willing to be a househusband. I mean, damn. Give me lessons!” Expressively, she gesticulated as her voice gained an octave. Customers glanced in y’all direction and you laughed nervously before glaring at her. “Sorry, sorry.” Breanna apologized, tone lowering again. “Does he know about Mitchell?”

“Can we change the subject from that whack ass nigga?” You complain.

Mitchell Sanders had been your high school sweetheart and the two of y’all had dated a year and a half through college. During the final year of your relationship, he had been increasingly short tempered and critical of everything about you. While you were young, dumb and in love, you weren’t too sprung that you didn’t love your melanin skin and his passive-aggressive, caustic comments about ‘if you were a little lighter...’ only frustrated and depressed you enough to eventually dump his ass. Not even two months later, he started dating Cassandra Wynters, a preppy white soccer player. Last you’d heard about the happy couple, they’d been racing for the nearest courthouse as she was pregnant.

“No, because that nigga got yo silly-dilly ass thinkin’ that yo future baby daddy is a no good asshole wit a white girlfriend on the side.” 

“Oh God. You know what? I’ma head on out of here.” You try to flag down the waiter, only Breanna kicks you in the shin. “Ow, bitch! Mercy!” You hiss through your teeth. “The hell?”

"You such a baby.” She rolled her eyes. “Sit wit me for a few extra minutes before I gotta go back home.” Breanna instructed sternly, in the way that only family members really could command somebody to do anything. “This the only time I get some personal time away from Miguel and Tiana.”

“Oooh, how are your kids?” You pick up your spoon, the melted sweet dripping off the end and back into the bowl. 

Snorting, her tone is fond as she says, “Bad as hell as usual. Dre’s watching them right now so it’s all good. They always behave for they daddy.” Mushy expression changing quickly, she pointed a finger at you accusingly, “Girl, don’t even try and change the subject, though! You need to communicate with ya man so that he can address these issues early in the relationship. I will not stand by and let you sabotage yourself because you scared that you feelin’ this dude a little too much.” 

“Whatever, Bre. I’m done talkin’ about this for today.” 

Even though you said that, it lingered at the back of your mind the rest of the day. Work was routine so you didn’t mess up due to inattentiveness, thank goodness, and you couldn’t talk to Nadia since right now the two of y’all were in some strange type of friendship/flatmate limbo. 

"Wassup?” That’s the greeting Erik gave you before giving you a peck on the lips. “...Ay, you good?” He asked, pulling back a little to scrutinize you carefully. 

‘Fuck, he’s figured it out!’ Reaching a hand up, you place it against the nape of his neck, leaning in for another quick kiss. “Mm, better now. I mean, heh, why wouldn’t I be?”

Score one for being overcompensating. 

Eyebrows raising, for a heart stopping moment you thought he’d call you out on your bullshit, but Erik just shook his head. “...Okay. Good day at work then. I can work wit that. I’m sayin’ though, you wanted to check out that restaurant on McMillan and 4th West Ave? I made a reservation if you still wanna go...?” 

“The restaurant with the skyline view of the city and that famous seafood chef that cooks his food fresh every day?” Eyes lighting up, you launch yourself into his arms and he gripped the back of your thighs, lifting you. “Yes, yes, yes! Please!” Hands framing his face, you kissed him again, this time more intently, feeling his fingers squeezing your thighs. “And afterwards we can come back here. You let me say thank you again, properly?I might even get on my knees.”

Erik set you down on your feet. Bodies brushing up against each other, there’s no mistaking the feeling of him being half hard. “Don’t start that shit. Teasing a nigga before we go out in public.” Popping you on the ass, he snorted at the squeal you let out. “Hurry up. That reservation at seven thirty.” 

You gaped at him momentarily, turning to leave, “Why didn’t you say that at first?!”

“I’m tellin’ you now!” 

Last minute as it was, the two of y’all showed up literally dressed to slay. All eyes were on the both of you. The question in all of those pale faces were ‘How can these negroes afford to eat here?’, if not phrased exactly like that, the point still stood. 

Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care for once. 

It didn’t matter how Erik knew the chef personally and that they shook hands as if old friends, or how the table he’d booked was strategically placed right near the area where the chef worked and you wouldn’t miss a thing while he cooked. 

For tonight, you had decided to let those fears and anxieties go. To enjoy this date with ya man.

Then the weirdest thing happened. 

“Y/N?” A nasally, high pitched voice called. "Oh my God, Y/N! Hey, hi!” Waving excitedly is a slightly plump, but cute waitress. Handing off a tray of drinks to another waiter, she hurried over to the table. “It’s been so long.”

“Uhh, baby?” Erik is understandably confused and so are you.

“I’m sorry. Do I...know you?”

“Oh! Oh, duh!” Slapping her forehead, she went through a quick demonstration of your alma mater’s hand sign. “It’s me! Cassandra!” She added, when it became clear that you were still drawing a blank.

“O-Ooooh, Cas. Wooooow, girl. Hey.” Your greeting lacked enthusiasm and Erik raised an eyebrow at you. You valiantly ignored this as you grasped for something nice to say. “Lookin’ good, girl. Shoot, I ain’t even recognize you.”

“It’s okay.” Heavily, she dropped into a seat next to Erik and yourself after grabbing a chair from another table. “I know I put on a few pounds since college and I cut my hair.” 

“Nooo!” Waving your hands frantically, you shake your head, “It’s not that. It’s just...I thought you’d be on TV, living your dream as a soccer player and everything.” Erik ‘coughed’ into his fist. “Sorry! Cassandra, this is my man, Erik. Baby, this is Cassandra Wynters.”

He ignored her outstretched hand. “And we on a date. So...maybe get back to your job?” 

As if you’d only just recognized her uniform, you gasped, hoping it’s believable. “Oh damn! I didn’t mean to take up all your time with my chit-chatting. I don’t want you to get in trouble, and we are on a date, so... Rain check. I’ll have the, um, maitre d’ give you my contact info.” 

Cheeks flushed, she raised slowly from her position, “Right. So sorry, that was rude and inappropriate, my just running over here.” Laughing awkwardly, a little piggish snort escaped and you sipped at your drink to avoid laughing in her face. “I’ll catch you later then.” 

“Yep. Ta-ta!” Dismissing her, you turn your full attention onto Erik once again, relaxing only when she walked away. 

“That musta felt good, huh?” Erik is excellent at reading your body language and cues. You grin evilly and he snorted. “I can’t believe she just ran her ass over here like y’all was in a crowded subway station or something.”

Your shake your head and thank the waiter who refills the glasses while another takes the extra chair away again. “Some people have no home training!” You state in your best posh voice. 

Placing a hand over his chest, he played along, effecting a ‘shocked’ tone, “Why would you say something so controversial yet so brave?”

It was very likely that y’all made all those white folks big mad with how y’all were laughing and carrying on. Enjoying the food and each other’s company. And when it came time to leave, Erik’s hand on your waist is a warm comfort as you catch sight of Cassandra being scolded by the maitre d’, or her boss, or whoever, at the corner of your eye. For a brief moment, the two of you stare at each other and you’re the first to look away, tilting your head up to kiss at Erik’s jaw, an action that caused him to startle briefly before he captured your lips in a kiss that toed the line between being indecent and sweet.  

Maybe its God, or karma, or something else telling you to stop questioning every single thing about the mystery surrounding this man, that when it was time to know, he would tell you. To enjoy being the central focus of someone’s attention and who actually, truly, wants to be with you and only you. That everything would work out. Whatever the lesson to be learned here, the thought, ‘I am so blessed.’ Kept reverberating through your brain on a loop. And yeah, you gave that dimple cheeked fool some road head while on the way back to his crib. 

Can you really be blamed?