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bi-bard · 3 years ago

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Please Say That You're Joking (Pt.1) - Chuck Shurley Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Please Say You're Joking (Pt. 1) [You can read part 2 by clicking here!]

Pairing: Chuck Shurley X Winchester!Reader

Requested: Nope

Word Count: 2,930 words

Warning(s): mentions of sex, threats of violence

Summary: (Season 4; Season 11) (Y/n) had a single one-night stand while coping with loss in a not healthy way... if only they had a clue about the weight of their actions.

Author's Note: I was recently going back through some of the "lighter" episodes of Supernatural because I wanted to watch something I could chuckle at. That's where this came from.

This might be the most crackheaded thing I've written in a while.

Also, the amount of things I had to bullshit my way through this is actually ridiculous.

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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Sam, Dean, and I walked into the motel room. We were all confused and slightly scared.

We had gone to a comic book shop to do some work on a case. However, we were then called fans.

Fans of what?

Well, fans of a series of books about our lives.

I was the middle Winchester child. Two years younger than Dean, two years older than Sam. I was beyond confused when I saw some weird, romanticized version of me on the cover of a book.

"This is so weird," I mumbled, plopping onto one of the beds in the room.

Sam jumped onto his laptop and started researching. Dean was holding one of the books, reading through it. I didn't even want to touch it.

"I don't like how he describes (Y/n)," Dean commented. "It's weird. It's like he's in love. Listen to this..."

Dean dramatically clears his throat and starts to read in an even more dramatic voice, "'Even after a hard hunt, (Y/n) could easily be seen as the most beautiful of the siblings. They mimicked the beauty of their mother more than their brothers. There's no bruise or cut that could take the loveliness away from the natural curves of (Y/n)'s face. If only they could see how everyone else would stare-"

"Okay, ew," I muttered, walking to the table. "What'd you find?"

"Well, it seems like Carver Edlund is a pen name," Sam shrugged. "And the fans are intense."

"As in," Dean asked, closing the book and joining the two of us at the table.

"Well," Sam handed me the laptop so Dean and I could look at it, "there's fanfiction. About all of us."

"What's this, 'Sam/Dean'," I asked.

"It's... me and Dean... together."

"They just don't care that we're related," Dean asked. Sam nodded.

"God, this is so weird."

"So, how do we find this guy," I asked.

--time skip--

We managed to find the publisher of the novels and found her house.

"So, you published the 'Supernatural' books," I asked as we walked in.

"Yep," she nodded. "Yeah, gosh. These books... they never really got the attention that they deserved. All anybody wants to read anymore is that romance crap."

"Could not agree with you more," I said. "We're hoping that our article can shine a light on an underappreciated series."

"Yeah, because, you know, if we got a little bit of good press, then maybe we can start publishing again," she replied excitedly.

"No, no, no," Dean immediately shut her down. "I mean, why... why would you want to do that? It's such a complete series with Dean going to hell and all."

"Oh my god, that was one of my favorite ones," she rambled. "Dean was so strong and sad and brave. And Sam... I mean... the best ones are when they cry... like in 'Heart' when Sam had to kill Madison; the first woman since Jessica he'd really loved. When Dean had to call John in 'Home' and ask him for help. Or when (Y/n) went back to the motel room after getting kidnapped and just had to sit in their own head and had to truly process not only the death of their mother but now their father. The mixed feelings were amazing."

"You're a really big fan," I noted. She nodded.

"Gosh, if only real men were that open about their emotions."

"Real men," Dean asked.

"I mean, no offense," she replied. "How often do you cry like that?"

"Well, right now I'm crying on the inside," he muttered.

"Is that supposed to be funny?"

"Lady, this whole thing is funny."

"How am I supposed to know this is legit?"

"Oh, trust me," Dean mumbled. "We're legit."

"Well, I don't want some smart-ass article making fun of my boys," she snapped as she sat in her chair.

"Oh, never," I replied quickly. "We actually are big fans."

"You read the books?"

"Cover to cover," I promised.

"What's the year and model of the car?"

"1967 Chevy Impala," Dean smiled proudly.

"What's May 2nd?"

"That's my- uh... Sam's birthday," Sam replied.

"Sam's score on the LSAT?"

"Umm... 174," Sam said nervously.

"(Y/n)'s first hunt?"

"Vampire in Washington," I answered. "Dean was at the motel sick and (Y/n) almost chopped John's head off when he scared them."

"(Y/n)'s favorite memory that's not related to hunting?"

I smiled, "Helping Sam get ready for a date when he was a teenager because Sam didn't trust what Dean had told him."

"Dean's favorite song?"

"It's a tie," Dean replied. "Between Zep's 'Ramble On' and 'Traveling Riverside Blues.'"

She finally laughed and smiled again, "Okay, okay. What do you wanna know?"

"What's Carver Edlund's real name," Sam asked.

"Oh, no. I can't," she shook her head.

"We just wanna talk to him," Sam continued. "You know, get the 'Supernatural' story in his own words."

"He's very private," she shrugged. "Like Salinger."

"Please," Sam tried again. "Like I said, we're um... big fans."

Sam unbuttoned his shirt enough to show his anti-possession tattoo. Dean pulled his shirt to the side to do the same. I rolled my eyes and yanked the arm of my jacket down and pulled up the sleeve of my t-shirt. I don't wear as many layers as them and I had opted to put the tattoo on my upper arm because I thought it looked nicer.

"Awesome," the lady mumbled before standing up. "Y'know what?"

I looked away as she pulled her pants down.

"I got one too."

"Wow, you are a fan," I slapped Dean's arm. The lady fixed her clothing before grabbing a pen and paper.

"Okay," she said. "His name's Chuck Shurley-"

And I stopped listening after that. I knew that name... why did I know that name... oh... oh no. I'm gonna kill him. We're going to meet this man and I am going to end up killing him.

I followed Sam and Dean as they started walking out of the woman's house.

"Excuse me," she called as we reached the door. We looked back at her. "I'm sorry, but you look exactly like how I picture (Y/n) when I read the books."

I chuckled, "Thanks."

"He describes (Y/n) with so much detail," she smiled. "You could play them in a movie."

"Thank you," I waved as we walked out.

"'You could play them in a movie,'" Dean teased.

"I know who Chuck is," I said, ignoring him.

"What," he asked. I nodded. "How?"

I pointed to get into the car. I got in the back seat and Sam and Dean sat upfront. Dean started driving to the address the lady gave us before I started speaking.

"Okay, when you went to hell, Sam's not the only one who ran off," I explained. "I wasn't gone for four months... just two weeks. In those two weeks, I got involved in a single one-night stand. The name he gave me was Chuck Shurley."

"You screwed the man who wrote books about us," Dean asked, sounding angry.

"Do you think I knew he was writing books based on our lives?"

"He had to have known who you are," Sam added. "This isn't an accident. He has to get visions or something."

"Yeah, I know," I nodded. "He made money off of my name and then screwed me."

"Damn," Dean mumbled. "I missed a hell of a lot."

I rolled my eyes.

--time skip--

I knocked on the door loudly. Sam grabbed my arm, shaking his head at me. The door was opened and I smiled obnoxiously as Chuck. He was in a robe, his boxers, and an old white shirt. He looked tired and like he hadn't had a goodnight's sleep in days.

"Chuck Shurley," Dean asked.

"Chuck Shurley that wrote the Supernatural books," Sam added.

"Nice to meet you," I said. "This is Sam... Dean... and I'm (Y/n)... the ones you've written books about."

Chuck sighed and went to shut the door. I stepped in, stopping it with my foot.

"Listen, I appreciate the enthusiasm, I really do and I remember you," he motioned at me, awkwardly grinning before seeming to shake the memories out of his head. I almost slapped him right then. "But please... go get a life."

"You see," Dean followed me, helping to force our way inside. Sam made sure the door shut behind us. "We have a life... and you're selling books about it."

"Okay, this isn't funny," Chuck mumbled.

"You're right," I said. "We just wanna know how you're doing it?"

"I'm just a writer, I'm not doing anything."

"Then why do you know so much about demons and tulpas and changelings?"

"Is this some kind of 'Misery' thing? Ah, it is, isn't it? It's a 'Misery' thing!"

"No, it's not," I shook my head. "Believe me, we're not fans."

"What do you want then," he asked.

"I'm Sam... and that's Dean and (Y/n)," Sam tried again.

"Those are fictional characters," Chuck yelled. "They aren't real!"

Dean grabbed him and pulled him outside.

"Wait, wait-"

"We aren't kidnapping you, calm down," I rolled my eyes. Dean opened the hidden compartment in the impala's trunk.

"Are those real guns?"

"Yes," I nodded. "And real rock salt, real fake IDs."

Chuck let out a laugh at it, "Well, I gotta hand it to you guys. You really are my number-one fans. That... That's awesome. So, I-I think I've got some poster in the house."

"Chuck, stop," I rolled my eyes, grabbing his arm as he went to walk away.

"Please don't hurt me," he begged.

"How much do you know," Sam asked. "Do you know about the angels? Or Lilith breaking the seals?"

"How do you know about that?"

"Have you not been listening," I asked. "The real question is how do you?"

"Because I wrote it," he explained.

"You kept writing?"

"The books never came out because the publisher went bankrupt," he furrowed his eyebrows.

I stepped back, letting go of his arms.

"Okay, wait a minute," Chuck crossed his arms. "This is some kind of joke, right? Did Phil put you up to this?"

"Oh my god," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. I grabbed his robe. "I'm sorry but I'm really tired. Nice to meet you. I'm (Y/n) Winchester, these are my brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester. You wrote and published books about us, probably knew who I was, and then you still slept with me."

He stared at me in shock.

"What," I asked.

"The last names were never in the books," he mumbled. "I never told anyone about that. I never even wrote that down."

"Then I guess we have a lot to talk about," I let go of his robe.

The three of us followed him inside.

--time skip--

"I got a visit from Cas," Dean explained as he walked in. "I've some important information."

After talking to Chuck and getting a draft of what was supposed to happen, we were all panicking. Dean told us to wait here. Lilith was going to come for Sam and we both thought it'd be harder if there was more than one of us here at all times.

Now, Dean was coming back from seeing Chuck.

"And that important information is...," Sam trailed off.

"He's a prophet of the lord," Dean said, smirking at me.

I shut my eyes, letting my head fall forward.

"Please say you're joking," I mumbled.

"Nope," Dean replied.

Sam looked over at me. He only started chuckling after his brother broke.

Dean was laughing his head off within seconds, "You screwed a prophet!"

"Shut up," I groaned. "I'm gonna kill him!"

"Archangel will kill you."

"I'll happily pay that price," I muttered. "I slept with a prophet."

"At least that means he didn't write himself to sleep with you," Sam tried to comfort me.

"Yeah, God just decided I was supposed to sleep with the guy publishing books about my life," I replied sarcastically. "That makes me feel so much better."

"Come on, it could be worst-"

"Sam, love you, but don't finish that sentence if you even kind of value your life," I muttered.

I was desperate for this conversation to just end.

--time skip--

After all was said and done, and Chuck accidentally helped us chase Lilith away for a while, we gave Chuck a lift back to his place.

I followed him up to his door, offering to look around and make sure that he's safe. He shook his head.

"I have an archangel protecting me," he reminded me. "Can't get any safer than that."

I nodded.

"I'm sorry, by the way," he said. "About us. I didn't recognize you until after... it all... and I didn't say anything because I didn't really know how to explain it. The whole event makes me feel all scummy."

"It's alright," I replied with a chuckle. "It's fine, I promise."

He offered me a nervous smile, "Y'know, in all of my visions, you're the most vivid thing."

With a grin, I leaned over and kissed his cheek gently. I stepped back and headed back toward the impala. I made sure to take note of his nervous and flustered face.

"See you around, Chuck!"

"You... You too," he called after me. I got in the backseat and got comfortable.

"So... screwing the prophet wasn't that bad," Dean asked.

I just rolled my eyes, waving through the window at Chuck as Dean pulled away from the curb. Leave it to a Winchester to end up in a situation like that.

--time skip (season 11)--

Sam and I followed Dean with our guns ready. Dean was following the amulet that he had owned for a long time without even knowing it could show us where God was.

Everyone had been infected by Amara only minutes ago but now it was okay and Dean's amulet was glowing.

"Holy shit," I mumbled, seeing who was walking over to us.

Chuck.

He was supposed to be dead. That's why Kevin's prophet powers had been activated.

"No way," Dean said.

"Hey," Chuck... or God said. "We need to talk."

Despite our understandable hesitation, Chuck reached forward, teleporting all of us back to the bunker. I stepped away from him, slightly overwhelmed.

"(Y/n)," Chuck walked over and tried to grab my arm. I instinctually slapped him. I was nothing but confusion and anger. "I deserved that. Just, please?"

I stepped away again.

From behind Chuck stepped Kevin's ghost. My breath caught in my throat. The poor boy had been through so much shit because of us.

Kevin told us about how we looked stressed and that we should listen to Chuck.

Then, Chuck waved his hand. Kevin turned into a ball of white and blue light before ascending beyond the bunker.

"Where'd he go," I asked.

"Heaven, where he deserves," Chuck promised. I nodded.

I listened to the rant about how Chuck had abandoned us all and how awful things were. Then, the conversation turned to the plan to stop Amara. The boys talked about needing Lucifer and Chuck got incredibly upset. In a fit, he went to leave. I stepped in front of him.

"No," I said bluntly. "Even if you want to avoid the subject of your estranged son, you can't just leave."

"(Y/n)-"

"Sam, Dean," I looked at them. "Give us a minute?"

They both nodded, glaring at Chuck on their way out. I tried to ignore the instincts that were telling me that Chuck was just selfish.

"(Y/n)," Chuck mumbled.

"Just answer my questions," I said. "Then we can discuss what to do with Amara without you storming away recklessly. Okay?"

He nodded.

"Have you been God the whole time," I asked.

He nodded.

"You wrote all of our stories?"

Another nod.

"Did you write that I was going to sleep with you?"

I felt manipulated and angry. I was desperate for an answer. I knew that this could've made me feel like dirt, but I needed to know.

"No," Chuck said. I clenched my jaw, ready to call him a liar. "I told you. I had been pretty much hands-off for a long time. Did I know who were? Absolutely. I'm sorry I lied to you about that. But I didn't plan anything between us. We weren't some divine plan."

I nodded, looking down.

"You know how Dean and Amara are connected," he asked. I nodded, looking back at him. "We're like them."

"And that's not a divine plan-"

"I'm not doing a good job explaining this," Chuck shook his head. "It feels like we're like them. Like there's this bond that just happened as soon as we met."

"You lied to me, for years," I said. "Saying we have some bond isn't gonna fix that."

"I know."

We both fell silent. Slowly, I started laughing. Chuck furrowed his eyebrows, "My only one-night stand... and it was God."

Chuck started laughing with me while I really processed what I had done.

I slowly stopped laughing.

I didn't notice until it was too late that Chuck had slowly gotten closer to me. As soon as his lips brushed mine, I pushed him back. Not hard, but enough to get him to step away.

"No," I mumbled. "Not that, no."

Chuck nodded, "Got it."

"Now," I sighed, "we need to actually plan to stop Amara, and if we need Luci-"

"We don't," he said bluntly. "We can do something else. We don't need him. Okay?"

I nodded. In my gut, I trusted him. Maybe that was me being an idiot but I did trust him. For now at least.

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#chuck shurley imagine #chuck shurley fanfiction #chuck shurley x reader #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x reader #imagine #fanfiction #x reader

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givemethatgold · 4 years ago

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Fix’er Upper Pt 2

Pairing: Eventual Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader

Length: 1.5k words

Warnings: Too many commas, some extra ‘u’s in words as I’m Canadian..., not enough time spent world building. Hope y’all got an imagination.

Notes: They meet! They meet! (Tags at the end.)

PART ONE

The morning sun saw Frankie already awake and amidst his trees. He knew that most people thought him stubborn by wanting to run his little orchard himself. He had heard the whispers, seen the side glances, the quirked eyebrows. The odd reputation he was gaining was worth the solitude and peace he had found.

The reputation of Town Recluse was better than That Ex-Cokehead Murderer. A small part of his brain knew that he was being too hard on himself but a larger part was convinced he deserved it.

So, he worked his penance here. Frankie nursed the trees back to fruition, his sweat and blood sacrificed to bring forth life; refusing to use pesticides or any form of agent that might harm another living thing. Deer, rabbits, mice, and bugs were the bane of a harvester’s business but Frank had decided to find joy in their presence. If he didn’t have to see another death until his own, that would still be too soon.

It had taken him three years to get anything more than a few barrels of apples. Most asked why he didn’t just cut them all down and start anew. They didn’t understand, hell he barely did, but in his soul, Frankie knew he needed to prove that he could do good. He had made his own baskets, built sheds, mended fences, and slowly built the business and a small loft for himself in the old barn.

Looking down the rows and rows of trees, Frankie was starting to get the feeling he might need help this harvest season. It wasn’t easy for him to acknowledge this but if he didn’t get at least one helping hand, more than a few bin-fulls would go to waste. Frankie decided he would put up a flyer on the notice board the next time he went to town and pray that only quiet people would apply.

The trees were his pride and joy. A variety that had been lost and forgotten until he had bought the aging orchard and a man named Tom Brown had come along asking about the fruit.

He felt at peace when he worked as it let his mind focus on the job at hand and was tired enough to slip into a deep slumber at night. Previously plagued by nightmares, long days of pruning, fixing, or working in the mill proved the cure for a dreamless sleep.

“I’m sorry, how much did you say the total was?” you asked while rapidly trying to do some math in your head. If you purchased everything you needed at the hardware store that would only leave you forty-seven dollars left in this week’s budget. And it was only Monday. “Ermm, on second thought, I don’t know if I really need the plaster and trowel just yet. I’ll just take the drywall and screws, please.”

Leaving the store, head down, you were feeling like such an ass you didn’t even notice the two older ladies watching your exit and whispering madly to each other. The owner of Hank’s Hardware, whose name was oddly Allan, kindly helped you pile the drywall into your truck box. You were too busy with the tie-downs to notice him join in on the developing whispered plot.

Unable to resist, you purchased a bouquet of sunflowers. They were your favourite and, once you mentioned that you were new in town, the sweet older gentleman selling them gave you an extra bunch for free. The bright flowers lightened your heart enough to almost, almost, make you forget your even lighter wallet.

The laden-down truck was nearly out of town when you spotted an open-air market down a side street. It had a surprising number of booths set up and looked so welcoming that you couldn’t resist.

Slowly walking between the stalls, you smiled at each vendor and complimented their handiwork. A few you recognized and thanked for the delicious foods they had brought by when you had first moved in.

You wished you could have supported more of the vendors, you respected their ability to create and be confident enough to share their wares. Taking one last look around, your gaze was caught by a familiar logo: it was the same one you had seen scattered across your porch a few weeks ago. ‘Catfish Cider’ in bold script framing a picture of a gnarled old tree. Maybe you should buy some and have Jacquie over for a less depressing girl's night? But could you afford it, even with leaving behind some of the reno items at Hank's?

You didn’t realize how long you had been standing there staring at the display until a voice called out.

“You gonna buy something or just wanted to block off my stand?”

Whipping your head up you noticed the man standing behind the stand for the first time. His face, for the moment, set into a grimace you assumed was due to him being upset at your loitering.

“I dunno,” you fired back, annoyed by his annoyance and too tired to stop yourself from saying a bratty, “is it actually worth the money?”

His grimace turned into eyebrow-raising shock, the tan skin of his rather attractive face reddening a shade or two with anger.

“Oh, you have such a discerning pallet to know better?”

“I- what? No! I just want to make sure I’m spending my money on something worthwhile.”

“Like flowers?” He challenged, his stance widening and arms crossing across his chest.

You’d seen that pose too many times in the past; Brad used to tower over you posturing himself just like this asshole at the market. He liked to hover over you menacingly any time you had mustered up your courage to state an opinion or to belittle your ideas. It made you inwardly flinch, making you angry at yourself for still acting like a meek victim, and then, in a show of great maturity, you projected that anger onto the stranger who initiated the exchange.

“Like it’s any of your business!” You cried out in a shrill voice you didn’t even recognize as your own. “But yes, these flowers make me happier than anything else I’ve seen today could.”

“I’ll have you know-” he ground out, jabbing his finger at you.

“Nope!” You interrupted him, “I’m going to stop you right there. I’m done listening to men like you!”

“Men like me? Men like ME?” He crowed, “Pray tell, what the hell do you know about men like me?”

Had you been acting like a functioning adult you might have realized that your voices were beginning to get noticeably loud. A small crowd around the two of you had stopped what they were doing to listen while also trying to look like there weren’t eavesdropping.

“I know all I need to,” you proclaimed, not quite able to stop the tremble in your voice. “and I’m not going to waste any more of my life listening to one.” With that, you sharply turned and made your way through the suddenly thick crowd of people.

Once the adrenaline from your encounter had worn off, you found yourself crying in your truck and regretting the way you had snapped. The hot guy at the stand might have been a bit brash with you but he hardly deserved you taking out all your inner turmoil on him like that.

Frankie winced again, thinking about how quickly out of hand the conversation had gotten. His remark was supposed to come out light and teasing but he was out of practice talking to people. Pretty people. People who were framed by armfuls of sunflowers, whose skin glowed in the Autumn sun, who had a ready smile for everyone she talked to.

He had found himself craving one for himself, and when she had stopped at his booth, looking lost in thought, he silently begged for her to look up. Impatient, he just blurted out the first words that came to his head and instantly regretted even trying. His cheeks grew red from embarrassment and Frankie just stood there looking at her blankly, not sure how to salvage the situation.

Before he could open his mouth to apologize though, the woman responded with a retort of her own. While it could have been interpreted as teasing, there had been a fiery glint in her eye that had pushed his pride button. Frankie was suddenly ready to throw down or at least regale her with the accolades of his cider and how it came to be.

What a mess he had made. He had riled up the beautiful stranger to the point her voice had wavered with barely repressed emotion. Not to mention the stir he had caused in front of half the town.

Once the market quieted down and everyone was closing up shop, Greg from the stall next to his, called over, “Know who that was?”

Even though it had been over an hour since the spat, Frankie knew he was referring to the woman with the sunflowers.

“Hopefully just some Leaf Peeper, I’d hate to run into her again.”

“Oooooh I dunno,” mused Greg, “A woman with passion in her blood like that can be a boon to crusty old men like us.”

Frankie noticed the gleam in Greg’s eyes and felt an odd burning in his stomach because of it. It was not jealousy at the unbidden image of Greg and the woman together. Definitely not.

PART THREE

@rebelliouscat @pedro4ever @speakerforthedead0 @yespolkadotkitty @ilikechocolatemilkh @weirdowithnobeardo @pedro-pastel @disgruntledspacedad @a-skov

#Fix'er Upper #Frankie Catfish Morales #frankie x reader #catfish x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you

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sparktober · 3 years ago

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Sparktober Bingo 2021!

Back for a new generation: Sparktober Bingo!

Instead of coming up with an Atlantis-specific list of prompts, I compiled a bunch of 2021 -tober prompt lists into one google doc here. (Links to original prompt lists are on the google doc.) Add in a list of Atlantis episodes and...

How to play:

Choose a “flavor” from the prompt sets below the cut, then paste it into this fandom bingo card generator.

Adjust your browser size til it looks right and take a screenshot, or use the html script if you’re familiar with using html on tumblr. Tag @sparktober if you want us to reblog it so everyone knows you’re playing!

Sparktober Bingo Rules:

Complete a row/column, corners, or a blackout of your card by November 1, or not! Update as you go.

All fan-works are allowed: art, edits, fic, meta... bonus points to anyone who picks the “sprinkles” flavor and goes full mid-aughts by filling their bingo cards with 100x100 pixel icons.

You are allowed to pull multiple cards until you get one that inspires you, and you can also go through the prompt list of your choice in advance to pull out squicks or things you absolutely won’t write. I recommend not googling unfamiliar words from your work computer.

Use the prompts liberally! Episode titles can be treated as the episode or as generic prompts (e.g. “Epiphany” can be for an episode-related fic or a prompt for an epiphany of your choice).

Flavor descriptions:

VANILLA: Gen prompt lists from Fictober, Inktober, Trektober Gen, and Trektober Trek.

CHOCOLATE: Zesty prompt lists from Trektober NSFW, Kinktober, and Whumptober. The multiple-prompts-per-day from Kinktober and Whumptober have been broken into individual prompts.

CANDY CORN: Fall / holiday themed prompts from TUA-tober.

SPRINKLES: Atlantis episode list (in order, in case you only want to copy certain seasons), along with characters and a few Atlantis-specific prompts.

TWIST: All of the above! (You can also manually mix and match different flavors, of course.)

Text blocks to copy into the bingo card generator are below the cut. Enjoy!!

VANILLA

CHOCOLATE

A/B/O; Soft; Anonymous Sex; Penetration with Object/s; Sleeping; Intercrural Sex; Restraints; In/Under Water; Group Sex; First Time; Possessive Behavior; Dry Humping / Grinding; Overstimulation; Roleplay; Rimming; Stretching / Fisting; Power Imbalance; Food Play; Fingering; Body Worship; Sex Work; Voyeurism / Exhibitionism; Safewords; Technology; Oral Sex; Omorashi / Wetting; Crying; Underwear / Lingerie; Friends with Benefits; Pain Kink; Dirty Talk; Trick or Treat; All trussed up and nowhere to go; Talking is overrated; Sticks and stones may break my bones...; Trust fall; I've got red in my ledger; Touch and go; My spidey-sense is tingling; Coughing up a lung; Rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated; Oops, I did it again; Just keep swimming; It'll be fun, they said; That's gonna leave a mark; Under pressure; Feed a cold, starve a fever; On a need-to-know basis; Field care 101; The doctor is in; Just a scratch; Lost & found; That's where the blood's supposed to be; They made me do it; You break it, you buy it; One down, two to go; Hide & Seek; You will go down with this ship; “I'm fine, I prom...”; It's (not) just in your head; All work and no play; Digging your grave; Hurt & Comfort; “You have to let go.”; Garotte; Taunting; “Do you trust me?”; Betrayal; Bruises; Helplessness; Pneumothorax; Presumed Dead; Hospital; Adrift; Torture; “This is gonna suck.”; Crush injuries; Delirium; Recovery; “Please don't move.”; “Now smile for the camera.”; Bitten; Trunk; Bleeding through bandages; Cursed; Auction; Self-induced injuries to escape; Escape; Fallen; Passing out; “Good, you're finally awake.”; “You're still not dead?”; Major character death; Disaster zone; Barbed Wire; Choking; Insults; Taken Hostage; Misunderstanding; Touch Starved; Numbness; Exotic Illness; (Blind) Rage; Flare-Up; Drowning; Made To Watch; Burns; Beaten; Fever Dreams; Scars; Hemorrhage; Doctor Visit; Bleeding; Trapped Under Water; Pressure; Demon; Ransom; Flashback; Flight; Waterfall; Vertigo; Nightmares; Too Weak To Move; Left For Dead; Trauma; Bound; Gagged; “Who Did This To You?”; Pushed; Broken Nose; Hunger; Blindness; “Definitely Just A Cold”; Tears; Ice Chips; Dehydration; Begging; Cauterization; Force; Bees; Aftermath; Dread; Cpr; Stabbing; Solitary Confinement; Blood-Matted Hair; Obsession; Pursuit; Revenge; Hiding; Trap Door; Collapse; Panic; Overworked; Ghosts; Prisoner; Losing Control; Threats; Caning; Mercy; Forgotten; Head Injury; Screaming; Comfort; Self-Sacrifice; Trapped; Near-Death Experience; Regret; Tragedy; Battlefield; Anxiety; Gore; Petplay; Bimbofication; Panties & Lingerie; Bondage; Double Penetration in 2 Holes; Breeding; Humiliation; NTR; Incest; Emeto; Omorashi; Free Use; Crossdressing; Public; Three (or more) some; Daddy & Mommy; Double Penetration in 1 Hole; Distention & Cockbulge; Xenophilia; Shotgunning; Watersports; Pregnancy; Lactation; Waxplay; Grooming; Human Furniture; Feet; Prostituion; MacroMicro; Spanking; Cockwarming; Glory Hole; Somnophilia; Body Modification; Temperature Play; Leather; Size Difference; Sounding; Stockings; Tentacles; Medical Play; Stripping; Orgasm Denial; Master & slave; Scissoring; Titfucking; Frottage; Knifeplay; Formal Wear; Breathplay; Fisting; Pegging; Scat; Beastiality; Fucking Machine; Tickling; Boot Worship; Bukkake; Collaring; Foodplay; Non or dubcon; Feederism; Sensory Deprivation; Oviposition; Clone & Selfcest; Exhibitionism & Voyeurism; Impact Play; Sadomasochism; Bloodplay; Praise Kink; Body Swap; Sweat; Branding; Massage; Role Reversal; Armpit; Masturbation; Inflation; Sex Toys; Burnplay; Menophilia; Stuck in Wall; Deepthroating & Facesitting; Dacryphilia; Hate Sex

CANDY CORN

Birthday; Sick Day; Autumn; Candles; Plaid / Flannel; Leaf Piles; Sweaters; Baking; Cinnamon; Pumpkin Spice Latte; Carnival; Movie Night; Candy; Graveyard; Black Cats; Goosebumps; Pumpkin; Party; Monster; Ghosts; Witch; Vampire; Traditions; Magic; Mask; Haunted House; Trick; Treat; Costume; Monster Mash; Halloween

SPRINKLES

Rising Part 1; Rising Part 2; Hide and Seek; Thirty-Eight Minutes; Suspicion; Childhood's End; Poisoning the Well; Underground; Home; The Storm; The Eye; The Defiant One; Hot Zone; Sanctuary; Before I Sleep; The Brotherhood; Letters from Pegasus; The Gift; The Siege Part 1; The Siege Part 2; The Siege Part 3; The Intruder; Runner; Duet; Condemned; Trinity; Instinct; Conversion; Aurora; The Lost Boys; The Hive; Epiphany; Critical Mass; Grace Under Pressure; The Tower; The Long Goodbye; Coup d'Etat; Michael; Inferno; Allies; No Man's Land; Misbegotten; Irresistible; Sateda; Progeny; The Real World; Common Ground; McKay and Mrs. Miller; Phantoms; The Return Part 1; The Return Part 2; Echoes; Irresponsible; Tao of Rodney; The Game; The Ark; Sunday; Submersion; Vengeance; First Strike; Adrift; Lifeline; Reunion; Doppelganger; Travelers; Tabula Rasa; Missing; The Seer; Miller's Crossing; This Mortal Coil; Be All My Sins Remember'd; Spoils of War; Quarantine; Harmony; Outcast; Trio; Midway; The Kindred Part 1; The Kindred Part 2; The Last Man; Search and Rescue; The Seed; Broken Ties; The Daedalus Variations; Ghost in the Machine; The Shrine; Whispers; The Queen; Tracker; First Contact; The Lost Tribe; Outsiders; Inquisition; The Prodigal; Remnants; Brain Storm; Infection; Identity; Vegas; Enemy at the Gate; Ronon Dex; Teyla Emmagan; John Sheppard; Carson Beckett; Elizabeth Weir; Rodney McKay; Jennifer Keller; Samantha Carter; Aiden Ford; Radek Zelenka; Kate Heightmeyer; Evan Lorne; Laura Cadman; Kolya; Chuck; Peter Grodin; Steven Caldwell; Lantea; Ocean; Ancient(s); Richard Woolsey; Athosians; Daedalus; Wraith; Nanites; Asurans; Genii; DHD; SGC; Stargate; Earth; Antarctica; Ascension

TWIST

“I need you.”; “You have no proof.”; “I’ve waited for this.”; “Fine, I give up.”; “I’m not saying I told you so…”; “Didn’t we already have this conversation?”; “That could have gone better.”; “This is it, isn’t it?”; “There’s no right side to this.”; “It’s so quiet.”; “I swear, it’s not always like this.”; “You keep me safe.”; “The things you make me do…”; “Your information was wrong.”; “I like that in you.”; “Not this again.”; “I’m with you, you know that.”; “This was not part of the plan.”; “I feel strange.”; “That’s what I’m known for.”; “What did I say?”; “No promises.”; “This time, do what I say.”; “Is this supposed to impress me?”; “Do you know what time it is?”; “I’m sure this has never worked, ever.”; “You could have died!”; “I don’t have to explain myself.”; “Why are we whispering?”; “Don’t ruin this.”; “Take me with you.”; Crystal; Suit; Vessel; Knot; Raven; Spirit; Fan; Watch; Pressure; Pick; Sour; Stuck; Roof; Tick; Helmet; Compass; Collide; Moon; Loop; Sprout; Fuzzy; Open; Leak; Extinct; Splat; Connect; Spark; Crispy; Patch; Slither; Risk; Meet-Cute; Amnesia; Age Difference; Pining; Sick Fic; Fake Relationship; Accidental Meeting; Epistolary; Secret Identity; Historical AU; Nightmares; Monster Hunter; A/B/O; Reunion; Soulmates; At Pride; Angst; Seasons; Fix-It; Coffee Shop; Movie Plot AU; Kid Fic; Actor's Other Crossover Work; OT+; Getting Together; Only One Bed; Pirates; Making Up; Forbidden Relationship; Tattoos; Halloween; Prime Directive; Lower Decks / Background Characters; Away Mission; Ship's Bar; Aliens Made Them Do It; Observation Deck; Crew with Family; Holodeck; Science Crew; Character Survives; Headcanons; Diplomacy; Decontamination; Trek Crossover; Replicator; Worldbuilding; Redshirts; Sex / Love Potion; Medical Crew; Transporters; Medbay; Interspecies Relationship; Mirrorverse; Uniforms; Mutiny; Stranded on a Planet; Rec Room; Academy Era; Second Contact; Command Crew; Off-Duty; Soft; Anonymous Sex; Penetration with Object/s; Sleeping; Intercrural Sex; Restraints; In/Under Water; Group Sex; First Time; Possessive Behavior; Dry Humping / Grinding; Overstimulation; Roleplay; Rimming; Stretching / Fisting; Power Imbalance; Food Play; Fingering; Body Worship; Sex Work; Voyeurism / Exhibitionism; Safewords; Technology; Oral Sex; Omorashi / Wetting; Crying; Underwear / Lingerie; Friends with Benefits; Pain Kink; Dirty Talk; Trick or Treat; All trussed up and nowhere to go; Talking is overrated; Sticks and stones may break my bones...; Trust fall; I've got red in my ledger; Touch and go; My spidey-sense is tingling; Coughing up a lung; Rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated; Oops, I did it again; Just keep swimming; It'll be fun, they said; That's gonna leave a mark; Under pressure; Feed a cold, starve a fever; On a need-to-know basis; Field care 101; The doctor is in; Just a scratch; Lost & found; That's where the blood's supposed to be; They made me do it; You break it, you buy it; One down, two to go; You will go down with this ship; “I'm fine, I prom...”; It's (not) just in your head; All work and no play; Digging your grave; Hurt & Comfort; “You have to let go.”; Garotte; Taunting; “Do you trust me?”; Betrayal; Bruises; Helplessness; Pneumothorax; Presumed Dead; Hospital; Adrift; Torture; “This is gonna suck.”; Crush injuries; Delirium; Recovery; “Please don't move.”; “Now smile for the camera.”; Bitten; Trunk; Bleeding through bandages; Cursed; Auction; Self-induced injuries to escape; Escape; Fallen; Passing out; “Good, you're finally awake.”; “You're still not dead?”; Major character death; Disaster zone; Barbed Wire; Choking; Insults; Taken Hostage; Misunderstanding; Touch Starved; Numbness; Exotic Illness; (Blind) Rage; Flare-Up; Drowning; Made To Watch; Burns; Beaten; Fever Dreams; Scars; Hemorrhage; Doctor Visit; Bleeding; Trapped Under Water; Demon; Ransom; Flashback; Flight; Waterfall; Vertigo; Too Weak To Move; Left For Dead; Trauma; Bound; Gagged; “Who Did This To You?”; Pushed; Broken Nose; Hunger; Blindness; “Definitely Just A Cold”; Tears; Ice Chips; Dehydration; Begging; Cauterization; Force; Bees; Aftermath; Dread; Cpr; Stabbing; Solitary Confinement; Blood-Matted Hair; Obsession; Pursuit; Revenge; Hiding; Trap Door; Collapse; Panic; Overworked; Ghosts; Prisoner; Losing Control; Threats; Caning; Mercy; Forgotten; Head Injury; Screaming; Comfort; Self-Sacrifice; Trapped; Near-Death Experience; Regret; Tragedy; Battlefield; Anxiety; Gore; Petplay; Bimbofication; Panties & Lingerie; Bondage; Double Penetration in 2 Holes; Breeding; Humiliation; NTR; Incest; Emeto; Omorashi; Free Use; Crossdressing; Public; Three (or more) some; Daddy & Mommy; Double Penetration in 1 Hole; Distention & Cockbulge; Xenophilia; Shotgunning; Watersports; Pregnancy; Lactation; Waxplay; Grooming; Human Furniture; Feet; Prostituion; MacroMicro; Spanking; Cockwarming; Glory Hole; Somnophilia; Body Modification; Temperature Play; Leather; Size Difference; Sounding; Stockings; Tentacles; Medical Play; Stripping; Orgasm Denial; Master & slave; Scissoring; Titfucking; Frottage; Knifeplay; Formal Wear; Breathplay; Fisting; Pegging; Scat; Beastiality; Fucking Machine; Tickling; Boot Worship; Bukkake; Collaring; Foodplay; Non or dubcon; Feederism; Sensory Deprivation; Oviposition; Clone & Selfcest; Exhibitionism & Voyeurism; Impact Play; Sadomasochism; Bloodplay; Praise Kink; Body Swap; Sweat; Branding; Massage; Role Reversal; Armpit; Masturbation; Inflation; Sex Toys; Burnplay; Menophilia; Stuck in Wall; Deepthroating & Facesitting; Dacryphilia; Hate Sex; Birthday; Sick Day; Autumn; Candles; Plaid / Flannel; Leaf Piles; Sweaters; Baking; Cinnamon; Pumpkin Spice Latte; Carnival; Movie Night; Candy; Graveyard; Black Cats; Goosebumps; Pumpkin; Party; Monster; Witch; Vampire; Traditions; Magic; Mask; Haunted House; Trick; Treat; Costume; Monster Mash; Rising Part 1; Rising Part 2; Hide and Seek; Thirty-Eight Minutes; Suspicion; Childhood's End; Poisoning the Well; Underground; Home; The Storm; The Eye; The Defiant One; Hot Zone; Sanctuary; Before I Sleep; The Brotherhood; Letters from Pegasus; The Gift; The Siege Part 1; The Siege Part 2; The Siege Part 3; The Intruder; Runner; Duet; Condemned; Trinity; Instinct; Conversion; Aurora; The Lost Boys; The Hive; Epiphany; Critical Mass; Grace Under Pressure; The Tower; The Long Goodbye; Coup d'Etat; Michael; Inferno; Allies; No Man's Land; Misbegotten; Irresistible; Sateda; Progeny; The Real World; Common Ground; McKay and Mrs. Miller; Phantoms; The Return Part 1; The Return Part 2; Echoes; Irresponsible; Tao of Rodney; The Game; The Ark; Sunday; Submersion; Vengeance; First Strike; Lifeline; Doppelganger; Travelers; Tabula Rasa; Missing; The Seer; Miller's Crossing; This Mortal Coil; Be All My Sins Remember'd; Spoils of War; Quarantine; Harmony; Outcast; Trio; Midway; The Kindred Part 1; The Kindred Part 2; The Last Man; Search and Rescue; The Seed; Broken Ties; The Daedalus Variations; Ghost in the Machine; The Shrine; Whispers; The Queen; Tracker; First Contact; The Lost Tribe; Outsiders; Inquisition; The Prodigal; Remnants; Brain Storm; Infection; Identity; Vegas; Enemy at the Gate; Ronon Dex; Teyla Emmagan; John Sheppard; Carson Beckett; Elizabeth Weir; Rodney McKay; Jennifer Keller; Samantha Carter; Aiden Ford; Radek Zelenka; Kate Heightmeyer; Evan Lorne; Laura Cadman; Kolya; Chuck; Peter Grodin; Steven Caldwell; Lantea; Ocean; Ancient(s); Richard Woolsey; Athosians; Daedalus; Wraith; Nanites; Asurans; Genii; DHD; SGC; Stargate; Earth; Antarctica; Ascension

#sparktober is coming #sparktober #sparktober bingo

33 notes · View notes

dionnaea · 4 years ago

Text

Promises

pairing: kenny ackerman x reader (platonic), slight levi x reader

warnings: angst, character death, mild swearing

wc: 4.4k

a/n: so, so sorry this took so long!! i decided to combine these two requests and change them up a little, so i hope that’s okay! i’m really proud of this piece, so i hope you all enjoy it, too. xx

side note: technically this is a sequel to my other fic Pot Meet Kettle but it’s not entirely necessary to read that first.

requests:

Your writing’s so good I’m cryin’... Also, I’d LOVE to see what you have in mind for Kenny and Reader’s background! 👀 Were they both underground? was Reader already in the Corps when they met?? did she learn how to punch creeps from Kenny?? Plus I’m very curious about what he meant by her fixing broken hearts!

could you do a part 2 to the pot meet kettle levi fic? i really loved it and i think it would be cool if you could write a part 2 based off the kenny vs levi scene in season 3? like maybe kenny sees the reader and he's like good to see you again and levi is like mf what idk im not creative :(( sorry if this isn't enough

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After Rod Reiss had been taken down, the scouts were sent to search the ruined fields for survivors. It was unlikely that any were left, but Erwin was adamant that no soldier would be left behind. You respected him for that, and went on your way to do your job.

As you wandered, you ran into a returning scout, someone you didn’t know the name of but were sure had been paired with the Captain for this mission. His head was down as he walked, like there was something he had seen that he shouldn’t have, and your mind began to fill with worries for Levi. Had something happened?

Making your steps slightly heavier in the grass so that he would notice you, the man finally looked up, quickly saluting to his superior. You brushed him off, instead getting down to business.

“Where’s Captain Levi, cadet?”

The man’s eyes darted away from your own before he answered. “Taking care of something, I think.”

You raised an eyebrow in suspicion at the soldier’s weary tone. “Oh? And what is he taking care of, might I ask?” Everything about this seemed peculiar, and you weren’t having it.

“I don’t know. Something… personal.” When he finally met your gaze, he relented, sacrificing the Captain’s privacy for his own sake, too scared to see what your reaction would be if he kept playing coy. “He’s that way, by the big oak tree,” he stated, pointing in the direction he came.

You squinted, making out the shadow of the tree in the setting sun. You dismissed the cadet, and quickly made your way towards Levi, his body becoming clearer as you approached. Once you were a reasonable distance away, you called out, but were met with silence. As your worry grew, you moved faster, only stopping when you realized what was going on.

Levi was kneeling, his body covering the person in front of him. It didn’t matter, you’d recognize those spurs anywhere.

“Kenny?” The name was uttered in disbelief, and as you stepped around Levi, your eyes grew wide with fear. “Kenny!”

Immediately, you jumped into action, your scout training taking hold of your body as you knelt by your friend. Your hands hovered over his burnt and bloodied body, not knowing where to start but ignoring the possibility that it was too late. “How… How do I help you? I-I don’t know what to do.” Your eyes were tearing up, and your breathing was getting ragged as you struggled to find some solution. “Please, Kenny, tell me how to help!”

“Kitten…” His voice was rough as he spoke, his usual tones of confidence and charisma gone. You met his half-closed eyes with your wet ones, begging for him to give you some answer, some, any sort of reassurance that things would be alright.

“Please,” you pleaded. You had never sounded this pitiful in your life, but you didn’t care, and as his shaking hand grabbed your own, a sob wracked your body. “Kenny, please. Please stay.” You couldn’t help, you knew that, but you hoped for once in his life he would listen to you.

His eyes began to shut, and his voice fell to a whisper as he said, “Stay safe, kitten.” With a barely there squeeze of your hand, his body went limp, his hand dropping from your grasp.

You stared in silence, shock overtaking you for a moment. But then, all you felt was anger. “No. No! You promised!” You were yelling at this point, fist reaching out to bang on Kenny’s chest in retaliation. A strong grip on your wrist stopped you, but you weren’t done. As if he could read your mind, Levi wrapped his free arm around your waist, pulling you back from the now dead man. You were screeching obscenities at both Kenny and Levi as you struggled to break free. Soon, your screams turned into sobs, and as you fell limp into Levi’s arms, you let out one last whimper, a last cry for help. “You promised.”

Later that night, as you pulled a camisole over your head, a knock sounded on your quarters’ door. Truthfully, you had absolutely no desire to talk to anyone. You had had a long day, you had just changed into your pajamas, and you weren’t in the mood to join your fellow soldiers in celebration. Still, you pulled the door open a few inches, hoping it would be someone you could easily send away. To your surprise, Levi stood outside dressed in plain clothes and hair wet from what you presumed was a shower. Even more surprising was the newly formed bruise on his cheekbone. The reddish-purple mark stood out against his normally flawless skin, and you found yourself staring, only Levi’s sharp voice bringing you back to reality.

“You did that, you know,” he commented with a blank face.

“What?” You opened the door a bit more, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

His left eyebrow cocked up just barely. “When you went berserk earlier. Before I managed to snag both of your wrists,” he explained. He reached up a hand to brush against his cheek. “Damn, you hit hard.”

You weren’t sure, but the tone in the man’s voice made you think that maybe, just maybe, he was trying to cheer you up. Against your will, the corners of your mouth turned up the slightest bit. “Did you expect anything less?” You quipped, wondering what his answer might be.

“No.” He shrugged. “Just surprised it took you this long to punch me in the face.”

At that, you let out a laugh. It was true, the man had managed to push every single one of your buttons during his time with the Scouting Regiment. The two of you were in constant conflict, arguments over the smallest things popping up out of nowhere. At some point, Erwin had decided that Mike would be the babysitter of you two, keeping you both in line during training and even more so during squad leader meetings. You started to smile at the memory, but when you remembered that Mike, like so many of the others you loved, was dead, your expression fell.

Moving your eyes to stare down at the uneven floorboards, you spoke quietly, but sincerely, “I’m sorry.”

Levi knew you weren’t just apologizing for hitting him but for everything, and as he studied your face, he made a decision. “Do you want some tea? I keep a special brand in my room.” It was the only thing he had to offer, and both you and him knew it.

You froze as you tried to figure out the best course of action. Follow the Captain to his room or mope around alone until you cry yourself to sleep? In the end, it was an easy choice. Still, your heart stuttered in your chest while you gained your composure. You took a breath before responding, “Um, sure.”

There was a beat of silence, as if the two of you were readying yourself to take on some new, mysterious foe. And in a way, you supposed, you were. About a month after Levi had joined the scouts, there had been an… incident of sorts. It wasn’t disastrous or anything like that, but Erwin had quickly ruled that the two of you weren’t allowed to be in the same room together without someone else present. A wise decision on his part, if you were being completely honest, and something that Levi nor you argued with in the slightest. But now, years later, it seemed both of you were ready to break that rule, Levi making the first move as he turned on his heel and waited to see if you would follow.

Out of all of the scouts, you were known to be the most stealthy. Mike was usually the only one who could sense you were coming, claiming you had a distinctly pleasant smell that his nose had no problem picking up on. One time, he had even claimed that you were the best smelling person in the Survey Corps, and you couldn’t help but swell with pride. Hange had whispered to you later that evening that that was his way of flirting, but you never took her seriously. You weren’t interested in dating anyways. No one had ever really caught your eye minus one man, but you always said it was more of a fascination than a crush.

Even your ODM gear seemed to be quieter than the rest, and you once managed to spook even the Commander when you landed on the same tree branch as him without him knowing. You naturally existed silently and sneakily so when Levi picked up on the sound of your sock-clad feet shuffling behind him, the pit of concern in his stomach grew.

Reaching his quarters, he unlocked the door wordlessly, holding it open so that you could enter first. Your eyes widened as you took in the space. First of all, it was much bigger than your room. While you only had a bedroom and bathroom to yourself like the other squad leaders, Levi had a small living area with a couch, small coffee table, and even a desk. There were papers neatly stacked on top of it, and the rest of the area was just as orderly, his tea kettle sitting in the exact center of the coffee table. Only when you sat down on the couch did you see the small fireplace he had. It was just big enough to fit a tea kettle over it, and that’s what Levi proceeded to do.

You let out a low whistle, capturing the man’s attention. “Wow. When did you get so important?” You asked, motioning lazily about the room with your hand.

Levi scoffed and placed a hand casually on his hip. “Erwin gave it to me when he moved into the Commander’s quarters. Reward for the highest kill count or something like that.” His voice was so nonchalant that for a moment, you didn’t realize that he was insulting you. No, you thought, it was more of a tease than an insult.

Now it was your turn to scoff, well aware that your fellow Captain was just trying to get a reaction out of you. Levi watched as you rolled your eyes playfully, firelight glinting off of your irises. Had they always been such a pretty color?

The whistle of the kettle broke him out of his reverie, and he swiftly turned back to take it off of the heat. When he brought it back to the table, he was pleasantly surprised that you had already prepared the teacups, him only having to pour the water in and wait for it to steep. Hesitantly, he moved around the table to take a seat next to you, wondering when the two of you were ever this close. The events of the day popped into his head, and he did his best to ignore the fact that the thing he remembered the most about it was you being in his arms. Still, a question had been lingering in his mind, and he figured now was the best time to ask it.

“Y/N,” he started, and you looked over with wide eyes at the use of your first name. You honestly weren’t aware that he even knew you had a first name. “Can I ask you a question?” You knew what was coming, but you forced yourself to nod anyways, giving him silent permission to know your secrets. “How do you know Kenny Ackerman?”

It was a loaded question, and you let out a breath as you tried to figure out the best way to tell the story without getting either you or Kenny into trouble. Even the secrets of a dead man needed to be protected sometimes. Despite it all occurring years ago, the government’s threat towards you regarding the release of information hung heavily in your mind. Both you and Levi would be in danger if you revealed too much. He could swear himself to secrecy, and you would trust him, but the risk would never be worth the reward. You fiddled with your fingers in your lap, worrying your lip as you thought of how to start to explain.

“Well,” you bit the inside of your cheek, gathering your nerves before continuing, “About a year and a half before you joined the scouts, I got myself into a bit of trouble.” He raised an eyebrow in surprise as you were widely thought to be the most well behaved and well intentioned scout there was. He thought he was the only person who could get you riled up, your scoldings from the other squad leaders and the Commander always leading back to him. You sent him a small grin. “I wasn’t always the goody two shoes I am now, Levi.”

“Anyways, it became kind of a big deal in the Capital, and a lot of higher-ups were calling for my head.” You let out a light chuckle. “Imagine just turning 19 and having almost every MP looking for you. Scary stuff.”

“Wait.” Levi held up a hand to stop you before you could continue. The story had just started, but he was already having trouble believing that this was the truth. If not for the darkness that rested just behind your eyes, he would’ve called bullshit as soon as you said your first sentence. “What exactly did you do?”

You looked away from the intensity of his gaze for a moment, an internal debate raging on inside your head. With a sigh, you relented. “I… I can’t tell you everything, but let’s just say it had to do with a certain Premier and confidential papers being stolen from his office.” Levi’s eyes grew wide, and you took that as a sign to continue. “No one knows except Commander Erwin, but I spent most of my teenage years in the Underground. I was born within Wall Sina, so I had papers to be up top, but I much preferred being below gro—”

“Why?” Levi was quick to cut you off, his expression hard and tone almost offended.

“My parents owned land in Wall Sina, and when they died, they left none of it to me, so folk got the idea in their head that I was a problem child. I wasn’t wanted there, so I left.” You shrugged, and Levi’s face softened. “I admit, the Underground wasn’t easy, but I was quick on my feet and smart for my age. I survived and I survived by myself. Help wasn’t something I wanted, but when you’re suddenly being chased by the royal government, it becomes something you need. That’s how I found Kenny, and it’s why I owe him my life.”

It had been a week since you had completed your assignment, already turning in the materials to the man who had hired you and returning back to your comfortable life underground. All had seemed to go swimmingly, and your confidence had grown tenfold. The feeling of being unstoppable was addictive, and you craved the sensation of that feeling again. You let your thoughts drift to what you could accomplish next, but sudden screams quickly snapped you out of your daydream. Straightening in your chair, you peeked out of the window of the tavern you currently resided in. Fear grew in your chest at what you saw.

Standing right outside were five MP’s, fully equipped with ODM gear and holding up a wanted poster with a poorly drawn sketch of your face on it. It was clear that they were asking for your whereabouts, and you were thankful to see that every person was shaking their heads to say no, they had no idea. Even with the solidarity of your fellow Underground citizens, you knew you had to get out of there and away from the sharp swords that hung off of the men’s waists. Before you could move, though, two of the men entered the bar, their eyes sweeping over the patrons.

Right before their eyes could meet your frightened ones, your world was encased in darkness, the only light you could see coming from below you. You blinked, trying to understand what exactly just happened, but soon realized that a large hat had been placed over your head. Carefully, you lifted the brim so that you could see, and were met with the piercing silver stare of a man a good amount of years older than you. Apparently your confusion showed on your face because he quickly pushed the hat back down so that it shaded your features.

He spoke in a quiet voice, only letting you be privy to whatever information he was about to share. “I’d keep that on if I were you, kitten. Don’t want the MP’s seeing your face, now do we?” You didn’t dare speak, but quickly shook your head, showing him you were listening and following instructions. “Good,” he dragged out the vowel, and the table shook as he placed his leg onto the table. Were those cowboy boots and spurs? You were pretty sure people only wore those in stories. “Now,” he stated, “We’re just gonna have a nice, pleasant conversation. Lots of giggles, ya hear me?” You nodded, the hat moving up and down your forehead.

As the man started spewing nonsense, you did your best to play along, laughing like he said to and keeping your face covered as best you could. You could hear the MP’s getting closer to your table over the man’s rowdy voice, and the hand gripping your drink began to shake in fear. Smoothly, the man took your hand in his, making some weird comment about how soft it was. You frowned. Your hands weren’t soft at all. What was with this guy?

The realization of what his plan was smacked you in the face, and you let out light giggles in response, putting on your most fake voice as you thanked him for the compliment. The things you were saying to each other became sickly sweet, so much so that you almost laughed at one point. As the soldiers approached your table, the mysterious man leaned in close, his alcoholic breath fanning over your face. Calmly, he swept the hat off of your head and placed it so that it covered both of your faces from the men who were now only a couple of feet away.

A swift kick from under the table spurred you into action, and you let out a girlish moan followed by an exaggerated giggle. He followed suit, making a comment about how nice your lips were. If it were any other situation, you would punch this man in the face, but for right now, you’d listen to every command he gave you. From behind the hat you heard one of the MP’s mumble about ‘couples these days’ with a gagging noise coming from the other. With one last lovesick comment from the man in front of you, the MP’s retreated, leaving the tavern with muttered curses leaving their lips.

Your savior leaned back into his chair, a smirk adoring his features as he placed his hat back on his head. For a moment, you both just stared at each other, you in shock and him in some state of glee. You decided to speak first.

“Who are you?”

“The name’s Kenny.” He kicked his other leg up on the table with a thwack! as the spur hit the cracked wood. The silence grew again, but this time you were at a loss for words. Sure, his name was Kenny, but was that all he was going to say? Apparently not, but when he spoke up again, it was entirely unhelpful. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

You frowned, unamused. “Maybe for you. I should punch you for some of the things you said. Strange men shouldn’t talk to unassuming ladies like that.” Your tone was laced with a bit of sarcasm, and he guffawed.

“I don’t think fugitives from the crown can be considered ladies,” he shot back, and you huffed. His face grew serious. “I’ve been watching you for a while, kitten.”

You raised your eyebrows at the nickname. “It’s Y/N, and, uh, what?” Once again, this man completely took you by surprise.

He shrugged. “You may not know it yourself, kitten, but you’re well known down here in the Underground. A mysterious girl who arrives without a sound, stealing from the above-grounders and sharing the wealth with the rest of us? You’re practically a legend; some people don’t even believe you’re real, but those that do would protect you with their life.”

This was all news to you. Yes, those were things that you did, but people recognized you for it? You furrowed your eyebrows and blinked quickly as you tried to puzzle the situation out. “I…” You struggled for words.

Kenny held up a hand. “It’s true whether you believe it or not… But, it seems that you’ve bitten off a little more than you can chew this time, my friend. Stealing from the Premier? Tsk, tsk.” His tone was more playful than condescending, and you gave him a weary grin.

You sighed and finally relaxed back into your own chair, studying the man’s face. It showed his experience rather than his age, and you wondered just exactly who he was. Taking a chance, you pried for more information. You hated being in the dark. “So, you didn’t answer my question. Who are you?”

His smile grew at your curiosity, crooked teeth appearing under chapped lips. “Someone who can help you. If you want it, that is. It seems clear you like to work on your own.” There was a challenge laced into his words, and you wondered what the right decision was. On one hand, getting involved with someone else, someone else you knew nothing about at that, was a dangerous game. On the other, you were in trouble and you needed all the help you could get.

Taking a chance, you slowly nodded. “Okay. What do you have in mind?”

He explained his plan. The MP’s didn’t know your name, so it would be easy to get above ground using your old Wall Sina papers. After you expressed your concern and with a chuckle, he dismissed their drawing of you, stating that once you got above ground and cleaned up, you would be unrecognizable from your old self. Then, with his next words, you lost your confidence in his plan.

“You want me… to join the Survey Corps?” You shook your head in disbelief. “Uh, no way. That’s right under the government’s noses!”

He brushed you off. “Eh, not really. The government already dislikes the Corps. They’re not gonna care who’s in it; they figure you’ll all die soon enough.” At that, you gave him a very blank stare, and he just laughed, stealing a swig from your mug. “You’ll be fine. You don’t seem like the dying type.”

It was true, you had escaped the jaws of death on multiple occasions, but you weren’t in the business of actively riding towards your demise. That seemed plain idiotic to you, and you made that known. “This isn’t a joke. It’s my life on the line,” you countered.

With a swift movement, his legs were off of the table and his body was leaning in towards yours, the weight on his elbows making the table creak. His eyes turned dark, levelling your gaze. “It’s your life either way. Would you rather die by the hands of the Military Police after they’ve done God-knows-what to you? Or would you rather die on your own terms, possibly fighting for Humanity’s freedom?”

It was a good question, a fair question, and one you immediately knew the answer to. You sucked in a breath as you resigned yourself to your new fate. “So, how do we do this?”

With another grin, Kenny explained the rest of his plan. It really wasn’t a bad idea, and you were grateful for the help. But still uncertainty settled in your stomach.

The day you were to join the Corps, Kenny had told you he would meet you before you left. You hadn’t seen him in about a week, and in that time, you had completely changed yourself, moving up top, getting a haircut, and finally wearing clean, untorn clothes. It was weird and different, but a part of you enjoyed it. This was a new start, you had chosen to believe.

“Kitten!” You turned towards the easily recognizable voice with a roll of your eyes, but the playful smile that toyed with your lips gave away your true feelings. “Give me a spin!” He requested, and when you did, he let out a loud whistle. “Damn, you really look like you belong up here.”

You raised your eyebrows with a grin. “That’s the point, right?”

“Precisely, my friend, precisely.” Slinging an arm over your shoulders, he began to walk with you towards where the ferry would pick you up. His pace was slow, obviously not in a rush to say goodbye, and you felt the same. Somehow, the two of you had grown close over the past month. Even with all of the secrets you both kept from each other, there was an air of freedom when you were in the other’s presence. No lies, no false personalities, just friendship.

It was refreshing, to say the least.

For once, you both were quiet as you walked. The weight of the future hung over both of you, pressing your mouths shut. He managed to speak first, his voice cracking for the first time since you met him and giving away his true emotions.

“Stay safe, kitten.” The words were serious, and something in him couldn’t stand to let that be the last thing he said. “You’ll kick those Titans’ asses.”

Normally, you’d laugh, or at least smile, at his cheesy jokes. Instead, you stopped walking and turned until you both faced each other, looking up to meet his eyes. With a swallow, you asked something of him that you knew was unfair, was selfish, was wrong. Yet, you still asked, knowing Kenny wouldn’t hold it against you.

“Promise me you won’t die before me.”

His eyes softened in understanding, crinkles forming around their edges as he gave you the most gentle of smiles. He knew what you needed to hear, knew it would be a lie, knew you’d hate him for it. But, he said it anyway.

“I promise.”

#attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #kenny ackerman #kenny ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #mere writes

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 4 years ago

Text

Rafe Cameron x Routledge!reader

Requested by @shanetoo / Summary: You’re the pogue princess, aka John B’s little sister, and Rafe has fallen head over heels for you. How will Rafe react to his newfound feelings, especially when he sees you as Kie’s date to the Midsummer party?

A/N: You’re John B’s twin in this one. I hope you guys like it! xx

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**MASTERLIST**

Requests: OPEN {CLOSED}

I am currently taking requests for:

The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Elijah Mikaelson

Damon Salvatore

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Spencer Reid

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John B Routledge

JJ Maybank

Rafe Cameron

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

“Hey it’s the pogue princess.” Rafe announces as he walks up to the bar at the country club.

You roll your eyes at his nickname for you as you walk up to the bar, “What would you like Mr. Cameron?”

He leans against the bar, “bourbon, neat.”

You nod and begin making it. Remembering what your brother told you, you knew kooks were horrible people, but this was your work and you had to be nice to them, especially if you want to keep your job. You knew the Kooks were supposed to be the world’s worst, but Rafe was always nice to you. You really had no idea why, so in return you were nice too. Plus he was handsome with his hair slicked back and raybans around his neck. “How’d you do today?”

“Shot a 92. Better than last weekend.” He glances over his shoulder, Topper and Kelce would be in here soon and he didn’t want this conversation to end. This is what he looked forward to every weekend. He’d play a round of golf, then come in here and get a drink and talk with you while Topper and Kelce went to the locker room to change. It was the only safe place he knew he could talk to you without it being questioned.

You nod, “Yeah you shot… what a 117 last weekend?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “it wasn’t a good day on the greens.”

You laugh a little and slide the drink over to him, “$8.50.” (really not sure if that’s a good price for a bourbon at a country club?? Lmao)

He hands over a $20 bill, “Put the rest in the tip.” He gives you quick wink and takes a sip of his drink, “You always make the best.” Pointing at the drink he walks out to the back patio where Topper and Kelce were waiting.

You were John B’s little sister, he knew that. He shouldn’t feel this way toward you, a kook, but you can’t help who you fall for. Why was there the pogues vs kooks anyways? He wished it was nonexistent so he wouldn’t have to worry about someone finding out about his feelings for you. You felt the same way about him, but he was a kook. John B and the pogues would kill you if they knew about your feelings for the kook king, Rafe Cameron. You wished they would at least give him a chance.

“Please come with me?” Kie begs. She’d asked you to be her date to the Midsummer’s party, but you were supposed to work the party.

“Kie, I’m working the party.”

“Take off for the night, they have plenty of bartenders working that night.”

You sigh before agreeing, “I don’t have anything to wear though.”

“It’s a good thing you have my closet!” She motions to her closet, “let’s pick you out something.”

Kie fixed your hair and your make up. You’d chosen a slim baby pink dress and a pair of wedges. She slipped a pretty flower in your hair, “There. You look gorgeous!”

She turns you around in the chair so you can see yourself in the mirror and you didn’t even recognize yourself. You weren’t a pogue tonight, you were a kook. “Thank you, Kie.” You smile, “I love it.”

“Let’s go see what the pogues think.” You and Kie descend down the stairs where the pogues are waiting. JJ is in his serving tux, John B was helping Pope and his dad with the grill and was dressed in shorts and black shirt, matching with Pope.

John B looks around your shoulder, “Does anyone know where my sister went?”

You roll your eyes and hit him in the chest, “Asshole.”

He chuckles and wraps his arm around your shoulder, “You love me! Now just because you’re going to this party with Kie, doesn’t make you a kook. So, no boys, especially kook boys. Me and the boys will be watching you.” He does the finger motion with his eyes.

You groan, “Seriously, John B? I’m literally only a few minutes younger than you. I don’t need a chaperon.”

“Gotta keep an eye out for my baby sister. Sorry not sorry.” He gives a shrug.

The first place he went to when he arrived with his family was the bar, but you weren’t in sight. He could have sworn you told him you’d be working the party. It honestly put him in a bad mood. He stood with Kelce and Topper, sipping his drink, when Topper tapped him in the chest, pointing behind Rafe, “Isn’t that Routledge’s sister?”

Rafe turned around so quick and there you were, walking arm and arm with Kie. He’d only ever seen you a couple times outside of the bar and that was at the boneyard, but even then, you were in your country club uniform, coming straight from work.

“Dude, she looks hot.” Topper comments, “I didn’t know a pogue could look like that.”

Rafe’s fingers tightened around his glass, “Topper, shut the fuck up.”

“I’m just saying. I bet you I can get her to come home with me tonight.” Topper laughs.

“You’re with my sister remember?” Rafe snaps, “There’s no you trying to get her to come home with you tonight.” Rafe watched as you and Kie made your way through the crowd, dancing to the music. You’d caught the eyes of a few other kooks. They were already looking your way. He throws the rest of his drink back and starts heading your way, but another guy has beat him to it. He decides against it and heads back to the bar.

You had glanced around for Rafe but still hadn’t spotted him, so you decided one dance with this one guy wouldn’t hurt. After the song ended, you were quick to slip away from the guy, “I’m going to find my friend.”

His grip tightened, “Come on, let me take you inside?”

“I’m good-”

“She said she’s good man. back off.” Rafe gives the guy a little shove and the guy lets go of you, rolling eyes before walking off.

You look up at Rafe and he runs a hand through his hair, smoothing it back. “Thanks for that.”

He nods, “Yeah. Yeah of course.” He flashes his signature smile, “I thought you were working tonight.”

“Kie invited me so I got someone else to cover my shift.”

He nods, “Well, you look beautiful.”

You blush, glancing down at your dress and then back at him, “Didn’t know I could wear anything else besides khaki’s and a white polo, did you?”

He chuckles, shaking his head, “No.”

You laugh, “It’s Kie’s. I didn’t have anything nice to wear.”

“It looks great on you.” He runs his hand over his chin and then scratches the back of his neck, “I um better go. Dinner should start be starting soon.”

You nod, “Yeah. I better go find Kie.”

The two of you part ways. He goes and sits with his family, you go to sit with Kie and her family.

Soon after dinner, the Cameron’s are asked to speak and then Ward takes Rose to the dance floor to dance. Topper does the same thing with Sarah and Rafe stands off to the side. He hadn’t brought a date, didn’t really care too.

You watch the Cameron’s, talking quietly with Kie, saying how pretty Rose dress was and that’s when you see Rafe standing over to the side. He didn’t have a date to dance with?

He knows he looks stupid up here while his whole family is having some dance with their partners, so his eyes start to scan the crowd, and there at a back table was you. He could see you and Kie leaned in close, talking over the music. He knew he was probably going to get looks for this, but at this moment he didn’t care. Screw the pogues vs kooks. Screw the kooks. Screw what people would think. He wants to dance with you. He makes his way across the dancefloor and straight to you at the table. He holds his hand out to you, giving a smile, “Would you like to dance?”

People around you gasped, especially the kook girls surrounding you. You were a pogue and Rafe picked you out of the crowd to dance with?

You know people were looking, especially your brother and pogues, but you didn’t care. Screw them. Your hand fits into his and you smile, “I’d love too..” Standing from your seat, he leads you to the middle of the dancefloor, pulling you close. Your hand is in his, the other on his shoulder and his other hand is on your lower back.

“People are staring.” You whisper, glancing around.

“Let them stare. They’re just jealous of you.” He whispers back. His forehead goes to yours and both of you close your eyes in content, as the two of you sway to the music. Your brother was going to kill you.

As the song ends, there’s some clapping for Ward and Rose, but you and Rafe don’t pull away as quickly as the rest.

“Want to get out of here?” He asks, pulling away to look at you.

Biting your lip, you nod, “My brother is going to kill me.”

He chuckles, “Don’t worry I’ll protect you.” He leads you away from the party and toward the beach. Slipping off your heels, the two of you start across the beach.

“Y/n Routledge!” You glance back to see John B making his way out to the beach after you, anger written all over his face.

“Shit!” You and Rafe laugh as you two break into a run, heading toward the parking lot, leaving John B in the dust. Rafe pulls you through the line of cars and straight for the tree lines. He puts you between him and the tree and puts a finger to his lips. You hold back a giggle as you hear John B yell again.

He laughs quietly looking down at you. Suddenly, it’s like the world stopped turning. He brings his hand up to cup your cheek and gets lost in your eyes. The two of you are breathing heavily, looking into each other’s eyes, but he doesn’t lean in.

“Kiss me, you fool.” You whisper, wrapping your arm around his neck and pulling him to you, pressing your lips against yours.

He kisses back passionately before finally pulling away for air, “I’ve wanted to do that for weeks,” He whispers against your lips.

Both of you smile into the kiss and you nod, “I was getting tired of asking about your golf game. I didn’t care.”

He chuckles, “I hate bourbon. It’s the only drink I could think about when I saw you a couple weeks ago and you asked what I wanted.” He then pulls you back into a kiss.

Your brother was definitely going to kill you.

Obx taglist: @emmalvei-blog , @tregua-oca , @weirdbiwitch , @losers-club6 , @treestarrrrrrrr , @omgwhattheeven , @normatural , @lreincarnationl , @laurenron , @junkiemuppettxx , @beth-winchester21 , @divcrdown , @timotaychalabae , @moose-squirrel-asstiel , @tangledinsparkles , @prejudic3 , @lanarichards5 @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch , @fratboystark , @nas-marie-loves-u , @sunwardsss , @annedub , @jellyfishbeansontoast , @turtlee-says-rawr,

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anxiousstark · 4 years ago

Text

S1 04 | Lunatic

MASTERLIST

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 1917

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, blood, swearing (always).

A/N: I’m sorry but this chapter is just a ‘filler’. We need this chapter for future things. I will let you all know that as chapters get published, there will be more action. For now, Season 2 is my favourite one. But the following chapters of Season 1 start getting quite interesting.

The next day, Scott and Stiles decided to go back to school, while I concluded I wasn't ready. Not yet. I felt rare, something was going on, and I didn't know what.

I was relaxing in the living room. Melissa had tried to start a conversation with me. You know, even though she was the one who decided to let me stay here, I think every time she glanced at me, she saw me as a product of her lover cheating on her with another woman. I couldn't hate her for that because it was true. I'm sure she asked herself how was he able to maintain two different lives. At the end of the day, Scott and I were the same age.

We hear the door opening.

"Scott?"

"Stiles." I chuckled while looking at him from the brown couch.

"Key!" Melissa exclaimed when she saw the object in his hand.

"Yeah. I had one made, so-"

"That doesn't surprise me. It scares me, but it doesn't surprise me." She grinned while Stiles let his bag fall to the ground. It made some unusual and loud noises when it touched the ground. "What is that?"

"Uh, school project."

"Mmm, Stiles. He's okay, right?"

"Who? Scott? Yeah. Totally."

"He just doesn't talk to me that much anymore, not like he used to." My eyes got teary when I overheard her words. I wanted to miss my mom. But she wasn't like Melissa, and she wouldn't be like her, she was never worried about me. She never cared about our the emptiness in our fridge. She cared about that white cupboard, on the right side of the kitchen that was filled with alcohol. Nor did she care about going to jail, four times a year.

Scott was lucky because he had one parent. I didn't.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Yeah, um. Okay, uh. Be careful tonight."

"You, too."

Melissa went to work, letting us know that there were some leftovers in the fridge. Stiles grinned, sitting down on the couch next to me.

"You didn't come today." He left his bag fall to the ground. "Was it because of yesterday?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Kind of." I sighed. "I also felt like I needed to rest, and Melissa told us that we could stay home if we wanted to." I sneezed, looking at his bag. "What's there? I'm sure that's not for a school project."

He grinned, opening the bag. "Today is the day you get to know what is going on." He made a gesture with his head. I looked inside the box which contained chains. "It's for Scott."

My eyes traveled to him. "Uhm." The Hazel-eyed boy was looking at me with a big smile on his face. "Are you guys like..." I coughed a little. "Are you guys into some kind of dominant-submissive relationship?"

His face changed completely, and he made a gesture like he was going to puke. "Iugh. No." He was lost in his thoughts for a moment. "I just pictured that. Thank you so much for putting such a...picture inside my head." He shivered while I chuckled. "Let's go upstairs. When Scott comes home we will explain."

I nodded, getting up from the couch, Stiles following me. I started climbing the stairs when I was interrupted by one of his inquiries. "I hope that at least you thought I was the dominant one."

"Stiles!" I yelled while laughing.

He opened the door to Scott's bedroom while I searched for the switch with my hand to turn on the light. When I did, both of us jumped as we got scared by Scott sitting down on his chair. "Oh, my God! Dude. You scared the hell out of me. Your mom said you weren't home yet." Stiles let the bag fall again to the ground while I examined Scott's face.

"I came in through the window." How the fuck did he do that?

"Okay. Uh, well, let's get this set up. I want you to see what I bought."

"I'm fine. I'm just gonna lock the door and go to bed early tonight."

"You sure about that? 'Cause you've got this kind of serial killer look going on in your eyes, and I'm hoping it's the full moon taking effect, 'cause it's really starting to freak me out."

Scott slowly kneeled on the floor, his eyes examining his best friend, sometimes gazing up at me. He grabbed the chains, tightening his grip on them. "You think I'm gonna let you put these on and chain me up like a dog?"

"Actually, no." Stiles threw himself at Scott. He had stolen one of his dad's handcuffs, and he had used it to handcuff Scott to the heat in his room.

"Stiles, what the hell are you doing?" I murmured while my eyes scanned both boys, and my mind tried to comprehend what was going on.

"I'm protecting him from himself." He gazed at Scott. "And giving you some payback - For making out with Lydia." I glanced at him, his eyes were teary. It was obvious to assume that he had a crush on Lydia. You could see how his attention was on her all the time. The way he blushed when someone talked about her, and the way he hated himself for not being Jackson. Stiles was an open book. Did Scott kiss his best friend's crush? Damn, he is worse than I thought he was.

I was keeping an eye on Scott while Stiles went downstairs. I was going through some of the comics that were in his room. "He never wanted a daughter." I rapidly looked at my half-brother. "He never wanted a daughter, you know. I asked for a little sister and he told me that daughters were way too much trouble." He smirked. His eyes were darker, and for some reason, I knew that wasn't Scott. Something was going on, and I needed to know what.

"It's okay." I got up from his bed, leaving the comic in its place.

"You don't care?" He smirked devilishly. "I'm sure you care about your dad not loving you. Not wanting you."

"I don't care." I sought to look strong. "He didn't want a daughter, and I didn't want a father. But sadly, we can't decide that and we share the same fucking blood." I got a little closer to him, my eyes burning his. "But I have news for you too, motherfucker." He grinned, licking his lower lip. "If he left, he didn't want you neither," I smirked.

The grin that was previously on his face disappeared. He tried to set himself free from the cuffs, I could feel the anger. I could feel that he wanted to grab me due to what I had said.

"I brought you some water." Stiles returned to the room with a dog bowl that had the name 'Scott' written on it.

He left the bowl on the floor, but Scott threw it at him when we were going to leave the room. "I'm gonna kill you!"

"Go wait outside, please," Stiles begged with his eyes.

"He is being an asshole," I answered, and he nodded. I remembered what the sheriff had told me about boys needing their own space too. I went out of the room and waited outside. I didn't want to go too far in case something would happen.

"You kissed her, Scott, okay? You kissed Lydia. That's, like, the one girl that I ev- and, you know, the past three hours, I've been thinking, it's probably just the full moon, you know, he doesn't even know what he's doing, and tomorrow, he'll be totally back to normal. He probably won't even remember what a complete dumbass he's been. A son of a bitch, a freaking unbelievable piece of crap friend."

"She kissed me," Scott replied in a calming manner.

"What?" I could hear his voice crack, and I bit my lower lip.

I walked closer to the door, deciding to go inside the room. "Stiles, just...just come out. Don't listen to him."

"I didn't kiss her. She kissed me." Now, it was Stiles who bolted around, leaving the room after hearing those words. But I stayed. "She would have done a lot more, too. You should have seen the way she had her hands all over me." He raised his voice, knowing that Stiles was just outside the room.

I was getting mad. I didn't understand why he was being such a shitty friend towards the other boy. "Shut the fuck up." I clenched my jaw.

"She would have done anything I wanted. Anythi-" I didn't let him finish when my closed fist came in contact with his mouth. Scott looked at me angrily, he tried to grab me, but Stiles had come back to the room, grabbing me so Scott wouldn't touch me.

"D-did you punch him?" He asked while studying my red fist. His fingers caressed my red knuckles.

"He deserved it," I muttered. "I couldn't fix his uneven jaw tho," I smirked while looking back at Scott. He mumbled something about me being a bitch.

Stiles beamed, still stroking my knuckles. "Thank you."

Not even a couple of minutes later, Scott had started to scream and my eyes searched Stiles's ones, craving an answer. We opened the door to see Scott on the floor, being pushed down by Derek. Both of them had hair around their faces, and their eyes had changed. Claws, they had claws. My mind went back to the video store, that same day Stiles had asked me if I was sure what I had seen was a bear. He asked me if there was any possibility of it being a wolf.

"Wh-What the heck?" I started walking backward. Scott and Derek glanced at me.

"You haven't told her yet?" Hale asked as he continued to hold down Scott. "Have you ever heard about werewolves, sweetheart?"

"First of all," I swallowed. "You are hot but don't call me sweetheart. Second of all, yes, I have heard of them. Only in books and shit like that. What is going on? Is this a joke or some type of roleplay or-."

Stiles grasped my hand. "They are werewolves." He sighed. "I know, it's crazy to understand." I didn't understand at first either and I made fun of your bro-, of Scott. But it is true." Stiles glanced at the window where the light of the moon was caressing Scott's skin. A full moon.

My mind was going crazy. I normally wouldn't believe something like this, but what about the video store? What happened last night at school? And, how did Jackson talk in my mind by the end of the day?

"Sit down. They are going to explain how everything happened. How Scott became a werewolf." Derek ordered. I sat down on Scott's bed, my legs shaking, Stiles noticed because he hadn't let go of my hand while he sat down next to me. Derek Hale walked closer to me, his eyes looking deep into mine. "And I'm going to explain something to you," Derek started. "I'm gonna explain that I don't know what you are. But you aren't human anymore."

My heart started beating loudly, and it seemed like Scott had come back to himself. "What?" He looked between Derek and me.

"She smells like a human," Derek stated, his eyes never leaving mine. "But there's another smell coming from her. Something I have never smelt before."

TAGLIST: @og-baby-ob14 - @savemypostcards - @cas-loves-pizza - @used-avocado - @mvrylee - @bilesxbilinskixlahey - @honeydoll-stark - @arieltheworldisamess - @softpeteparker - @kit-kat-katie99 - @thatsuperherosidekick - @bexbetterxthanxwords - @big-galaxy-chaos - @littlemiss-forgotten - @enchantedcruelsummer - @coldfreakeggsexpert - @merla123 - @sammypotato67 - @weirdowithnobeardo - @maggiesblogsblog - @itskindyl - @bobo-bush - @moongoddesskiana - @multifandxm353 - @irwxnhugsx - @xoprincessmel - @iclosetgeek - @andreagf956 - @niawoods -

People in black means it doesn’t let me tag them.

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mersuperwholocked-lowlife · 4 years ago

Text

Family Is Overrated

Word Count: 1,687

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Reader, Jody Mills (brief), Bucky Sims, Lorraine Fox, Alicia & Max (brief)

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: angst

A/N: uhm.... it’s here, sorry it’s bad lol haha i suck

A/N 2: this is part two of Ace!

A/N 3: Based off of Season 12, Episode 6, Celebrating The Life of Asa Fox

Masterlist Ace

“Who’s gonna tell Jody?” you asked, standing around with Lorraine and Bucky.

“I don’t know,” Bucky sighed.

“Well, someone does. She was his closet friend,” you looked at him.

“I can’t do this,” Lorraine’s eyes watered up.

“I know, I’m so sorry for your loss, Lorraine. If you need any help….” you gave her a sorrowful look.

“Will you plan the funeral?” she asked you.

You knew you couldn’t say no. After everything Asa did for you, you needed to do this for him.

“Of course,” you nodded.

“Will you tell Jody?” Bucky turned to you.

You nodded softly.

“Thank you, dear. I know I can count on you,” her eyes watered once more.

“Of course. I’m sorry,” you wrapped your arms around her before leaving with Bucky.

“Why are you making that face, Ace?” he laughed softly.

“Asa’s gone. I knew I should've stayed with you two, it’s all my fault,” you gave him a look.

“Wasn’t your fault Ace. Mistakes were made. It was Jael’s fault,” he sighed.

“After this wake, I’m going to hunt him down. He’s dead,”

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Bucky crosses his arms.

“Yeah, I can do it,” you shrugged.

“By yourself?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, so?” you gave him a look.

“Look, no offense, Ace, but you're just a kid,” he started.

“I’m not a kid. I’m 21 for crying out loud!” you raised your voice.

“That’s still young. You’re too invested into hunting,”

“I’m fine. You don’t know what you’re saying. Bye,” you pushed past him, getting into your car and driving off.

---

Asa was a well-known hunter in the community, everyone knew about him as everyone knew about you.

It had been years since you last saw Sam, Dean, and Jason, or talked to them.

You’ve been going around hotel to hotel, hunt to hunt, finding any hunter that needed help. It took your mind off of everything. You didn’t care about people knowing that you were a girl, or how you looked. The only thing that you kept, was who your family was and your name. People told stories about Sam and Dean, while you just stayed quiet.

You dialed Jody’s number, getting ready to tell her about Asa. You met her many times, she was a nice person, but you didn’t know too much. You know she had two adopted daughters, both a few years younger than you, and you knew she was sheriff of Sioux Falls.

“Hey, kid. What’s up?” she picked up the phone with a cheerful voice. You felt your feelings drop, hearing how happy she sounded, and you were gonna ruin it.

“H-Hey, Jody. What’s going on?” you sniffled, taking a deep breath.

“Just have some friends over. We’re watching a movie. How was the hunt with Asa and Bucky?” she asked.

You paused, taking a deep breath.

“T-The demon…..” you started.

“The demon killed Asa,” you said softly.

You could hear her shallow breathing as your heart broke.

“Uhm, t-the wake’s today, and we’re cremating his body tomorrow. Lorraine wanted to get him out as soon as she can,” you explained.

“O-Oh,” she stuttered.

“I’m so, so sorry for your loss, Jody. I wish I could’ve saved him,” you started.

“No, no, kid. It’s not your fault. I-I’ll, uh, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she sniffled.

“Okay,” you said softly.

“Okay,” she hung up the call.

You groaned to yourself, wiping your face, getting ready to go to Lorraine’s house.

---

“Quiet down!” you yelled for what seemed like the 100th time.

Hunters were loud. Drunk hunters were louder.

You sighed, grabbing a beer.

“You Ace?” you heard a man from behind you ask.

You turned to see him talking to Bucky.

“Nope,” he shook his head.

“I don’t get it, I’ve asked every hunter here, none of them are Ace,” the man sighed.

“Well, you didn’t ask me. Nice to meet you,” you gave a sarcastic smile.

“You?” he asked in disbelief.

“Do you have a problem with that?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Just…. not what I was expecting,” he replied.

“Now, I have a question for you. Did you ask every hunter here, or did you ask every man here?” you pushed off the table, crossing your arms as he went silent.

“Didn't think a woman could be the fiercest hunter here? Do you have a problem with women?” you walked near him, watching him tense up.

You saw Bucky hold in a laugh from the corner of your eye.

“N-No, no ma’am,” he stuttered.

“That’s what I thought,” you scoffed.

“M-May I just say it’s an honor to meet you. I’ve heard the stories about you, all the great things you’ve done,” he started.

Stories?

You knew that hunters knew you, but you didn't know they told stories.

“Oh, uh, thanks…. I think?” you hesitated briefly.

“So, how did you start hunting?” he asked you.

“My mom was a hunter, and when she died I felt like I had to take on her legacy,” you explained.

“What about any other family? Like your dad? Any siblings?” he bombarded you with questions.

“Dead. My dad died when I was a kid, and my brother died some time ago,” you lied.

“Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss,” he gave you a sad look.

“Well, it's been a while, and I’m okay,” you shrugged.

You gave a small smile, finding your way to find Lorraine.

---

“No labels, that’s a red sign,” Dean muttered to himself, picking up a beer bottle.

“Nah, it’s good. Homemade,” Bucky smiled.

“I’m Bucky Sims,” Bucky introduced.

“Dean Winchester,” he replied.

“Whoa, the Dean Winchester? As in like dead four times Dean Winchester?” another hunter, named Randy interrupted.

“Yeah, it, uh didn’t stick,” he gave a small smile.

“I mean, Asa was famous, but you’re here, and Ace is here? This is gonna get interesting,” he exhaled.

“Ace is here? I’ve always wanted to meet him,” Dean started.

“Uh, she,” Bucky corrected.

“Oh, really? Good for her,” Dean said, opening his beer.

---

“Oh, hey Alicia, Max,” you greeted the twins, standing in front of them.

“Hey, Ace, this is Sam,” she introduced you to the man standing in front of them.

He turned to you, as you felt shivers go down your spine.

Sam

“Oh my god,” you gasped.

“What the!?” he jumped up, looking at you in shock.

“I-It’s nice t-to meet you,” you stuttered, walking back.

Holy shit, oh my god

You panicked, walking to the back room.

“(Y/N),” you heard Dean call your name.

It’s been years since anyone called you by your name.

“Please, go away,” you said, walking into a room, with Sam and Dean entering with you.

“(Y/N), please, just talk to us,” Dean said.

“Shut up. Leave me alone, please,” you begged.

“You’re Ace? You’re freaking Ace?!” Dean raised his voice.

“So what if I am?!” you yelled at them.

“No, Ace was around before you left,” Sam remembered.

“I was Ace then, and I’m Ace now,” you said shakily.

“What the hell?!” Dean yelled.

“Just stop! Both of you!” you yelled.

“(Y/N), just listen,” Sam started.

“No! You have nothing to say to me, Sam. Do you think I-I forgot what the last thing you said to me was?!” you yelled.

“That wasn’t me, I swear. Look, when we were at the hospital, we were all waiting, i-in the waiting room. They weren’t letting us go in. We saw a shifter leaving your room, and then you were gone,” Sam’s eyes watered.

You went quiet.

“Where’s my brother?” you asked softly.

They both gave each other a look.

“Where is he?” you raised your voice.

“He’s gone,” Dean answered.

You felt your heart drop.

“W-What… what do you mean?” you stuttered. You knew, but you couldn’t. He couldn’t be gone.

“He’s dead, (Y/N)!” Dean yelled.

You jumped slightly, as your eyes watered.

Sam elbowed Dean, motioning to him to calm down.

“(Y/N),” Sam started.

“I’m sorry-” he continued.

“Please, j-just don’t. God, everything was okay before you came here,” you sighed.

“Okay? You call that okay? We looked for you, for so long! We thought you died, (Y/N)! You disappeared!” Dean yelled.

“Y-You think I was gonna stay there, with you?” you spat.

“We were gonna fix things,” Dean started.

“There was no fixing things! I told you that I-I hated you! And I still do! Do you think I-I wanted to fix things after everything that I said? I was in pain, Dean, and you made it worse. I bet you still don’t know where I was going that day,” you shook your head.

“Maybe I don’t, okay, but we’re family. We’re supposed to hate each other, and we’re supposed to fix things,” he said softly.

“What makes you think I want to? Look, out there, with all the hunters, I’m Ace. (Y/N) doesn’t exist. You two don’t know me. You can stay for Asa’s wake, but after this, I never, ever want to see you again,” you said shakily.

“That’s not your decision to make,” Dean said, as you started walking out of the room.

“It’s not yours either. You were the worst father. I’d be shocked if you even knew how old I am,” you scoffed, about to leave.

“You’re (Y/N) Winchester, born on April 20th, 1995. You’re 21 years old, your favorite color is blue, your favorite book is ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’. You wanted to go to Yale, and you’re my daughter. And I love you, so much. And I’m so sorry that I didn’t show it.”

You froze, your hand on the doorknob, as your tears fell to the floor.

“I spent years looking for you because you’re my kid, you’re my family, and you mean the world to me,” Dean walked next to you, putting his hand on yours, slowly taking it off the door.

“You’re smart, you’re fierce, you’re brave, you’re kind, you’re beautiful. And you’re too good for our family,” he turned you to face him.

“Family’s overrated anyways,” you sniffled, closing the door behind you.

(Posted @ on July 16, 2020)

Tagging - @vicmc624 @beancave @yoongi-holland @samsgirl93 @the-and-sign-anon @cryingskies @skyelikestowrite

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writersplanetarium · 4 years ago

Text

Facade: Discordant Dinner Date

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

I will admit that this is heavily influenced by the short story lol. I hope you enjoy!

“What’s your favorite food?” Aelin asked.

“I thought we agreed no questions.”

“I said I wouldn’t ask Remelle questions. Besides, we’re not even there yet.”

“I don’t have a favorite food,” he said, “I just eat whatever is available.”

“So whenever you go to the store you just, what? Get whatever’s on sale? Or you stop at the first restaurant you see?”

“Pretty much,” he said. There was a long silence between them and Aelin looked over at him.

“Aren’t you curious about my favorite food?” She asked.

“I already know it,” he replied, “That cake.”

“Aww you remembered,” she said. He rolled his eyes. “How’d you know I liked it anyway?”

“You’d ask for it at every cast event,” he replied, “And I was the one who put the laxatives in it that one time.”

“I fucking knew it! I knew there was something wrong with it. You’re such a bastard,” she said, and a little self satisfied smirk came over his lips. She let her gaze continue to linger on him. He hadn’t particularly tried dressing up. He didn’t look amess, but not like what most celebrities usually looked like going to dinner. Mistward wasn’t all that picky though, so his jeans and button up wouldn’t get him thrown out. He looked good enough she doubted anyone would really notice anyway. The sleeves of the green button up were rolled to his elbows and the top two buttons were undone. It was just a fact that he looked good. She certainly wouldn’t be the only person to think so. It wasn’t that weird of her to think an obviously good looking man was good looking. Right?

“Mistward makes some of the best hazelnut cake ever. You have to have a piece of it tonight.” She said it to him, but it was more for her to steer her off the train of thought she’d started down.

“Pass.”

“Come on,” she said, poking his arm, not thinking about how his muscles barely even gave under the pressure, “I swear one bite and you’ll rethink your entire outlook on food.”

“I’ve had a lot of food,” he said, “All of it likely more tempting than some chocolate cake.”

“You’ll be eating those words, buzzard.”

“Sure,” he said flatly.

When they arrived at Mistward, Rowan parked about as far from the entrance as they could get, despite there being open spaces.

“Why?” She asked, “I’m in heels, Rowan. Heels.”

“Why would I want to go looking for the car? Or risk having someone hit it.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Besides, it’s an extra ten feet. It won’t kill you.”

“I’m going to make the costume deparment get you a pair of these one day and make you see just how far ten feet can be.” She fixed a small piece of hair that had fallen out of the coronet she’d braided her hair into. Rowan looked over at her.

“It’s fitting,” he said.

“What is?” She asked.

“For you to give yourself a crown,”

“Oh whatever,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. She reached up touching the ends of his long silver hair, “I could make yours match. Even add in little tiny braids-”

“In your dreams, Princess.” He pushed her hand away. She grinned, lacing her arm in the crux of his elbow.

“Indeed.”

When they made it inside they found that they were, unfortunately, not the first people there.

Aelin looked over the group and was not surprised to find Remelle scowling at the decor. She was beautiful, but dressed for a clearly more fancy restaurant, her icy blonde hair loose without a single strand out of place. They looked to have just sat down, and the glare in her cerulean eyes at the waiter as she snapped at him there were too many chairs certainly diminished the beauty she had. She’d conveniently left both chairs open right beside her.

“Actually there’s just enough,” Rowan said. She looked up, a pleased look coming over her face.

“Rowan. I’ve missed you,” she said, jumping from her seat as she walked to them, offering him her hands. He took them, reluctantly from how stiff he was, but didn’t more than hold them for the moment before dropping them.

“Benson, Essar,” he said, nodding to the other two people at the table. Benson spared her a glance, unlike Remelle, with dark eyes that left her feeling... oily. And while Remelle was beautiful, Essar was who Aelin envied with her curves and light brown skin. Rowan took Essar’s hand a bit more freely and Remelle frowned, but quickly recovered.

“Come sit,” she said, setting her hand on his back to try and usher him over to her seat, “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. I remember when we didn’t go a day without seeing one another. Oh I miss those days.” Rowan didn’t budge at her nudging.

“This is Aelin,” he said, holding out his hand to her.

Essar was the only one who offered her a hello. Aelin couldn’t help but wonder why Rowan chose Remelle over her. She seemed much more pleasant. Rowan took the seat on the end, clearly intending for Aelin to sit beside him, but Remelle shoved her way in before she could, leaving her to sit beside Benson.

Rowan gave a small huff of annoyance, but stayed seated anyway.

“So how did you two meet then?” Essar asked.

“We’re costars,” Aelin answered, “We’ve been working on the same show for a few seasons now, but the friendship is new.”

“Just friends?” Remelle asked, “Well that’s not very surprising. I mean that accent of yours is already grating on me, I can’t imagine having to hear it everyday.” Aelin gritted her teeth, looking over at the woman, then Rowan.

Trust me I know. But I have to be nice for Maeve. He said without words.

“I think it’s pretty,” Essar said.

“Of course you’d think so, Essar. Your upbringing wasn’t as refined as ours.” Aelin caught Rowan gritting his teeth now too, his knuckles white, and she understood all too well why he didn’t want to be here on his own.

They ordered their drinks as Remelle continued on with her insulting remarks and snips towards everyone but Rowan, whom she showered in affection. Aelin was surprised she hadn’t sat in his lap outright with how close she’d moved her chair. Rowan kept catching her gaze whenever Remelle would say almost anything, and Aelin could almost laugh as she returned the look.

Not enjoying having a woman throwing herself all over you?

I’d rather be anywhere else right now.

Come now, she even offered to take you out again. How could you refuse that? Especially after she’s offered four times like you didn’t hear the others.

Funny.

Somehow Aelin made it through ordering. She knew most of it was due to Essar. Aelin found she liked the woman very much. She’d finished her third glass before she finally had an excuse to leave and use the restroom. All the water she’d been drinking in lieu of talking was getting to her, and Rowan was begging for an out.

“If you’ll all excuse me for a second,” Aelin said, “I’ll return in a minute.”

“Don’t rush,” Remelle said with a withering smile.

“I need to be excused for a second as well,” Rowan said, prying himself from Remelle’s hold. Aelin held in her laugh as they walked away. “It’s not funny.”

“It is so funny,” she said.

“She was a mistake,” he said.

“Clearly not enough of one to realize the first time,” she replied.

“It was... over the course of us working together. Then I came to my senses. However, she’s never been able to let it go. But it’s over.”

“She clearly thinks there’s hope.”

“There’s none,” he said, “She’s bored, and just wants what she can’t have. But it’s over. Completely.”

“Right,” Aelin drawled trying not to laugh as they reached the space between the bathrooms. There was a waterfall built into the wall the glowed and trickled between them.

“Laugh. I dare you,” he said, looking over at her.

“I’m not laughing,” she replied, holding it in.

“You want to. I can see it all over your face. I will throw this water at you if you so much as giggle,” he said. She couldn’t help it though. He stuck his hand in the water, getting a handful, which was a generous amount with his huge hands.

“No, Rowan!” She said through her laughs, backing up, he didn’t stop following her though, “You’ll ruin my shirt.” She hit the wall and he stood close, so close she could feel the warmth radiating off of him. Could smell him. He smelled like pine and snow.

“I warned you-”

“Oh!” They both looked over to find Remelle standing there. She looked between Aelin and Rowan, sizing up the situation. Aelin realized how this must look, and hoped it wouldn’t spell trouble for Rowan with Maeve.

“What do you want?” Rowan asked.

“Well I needed to powder my nose too,” she said, pouting, “But clearly I’m interrupting something.”

“You know I was just going to head into the bathroom,” Aelin said, dipping under Rowan’s arm, smirking at him, “But you know how things go.” Rowan glared after her and she just gave them a little wave with her fingers.

When the door closed behind Aelin, Rowan looked over at Remelle flatly.

“Do you have a thing with all your costars?” Remelle pouted.

“You said you needed the restroom, so go,” Rowan said sharply, turning away from her.

“Is that how things are, then? You’re going to be so cruel to me forever?” She asked, catching his arms, “I heard you were here and I came to see you only to find out you’re spending your time with that? I mean if you have such a liking for your costars, Maeve might want to know such a thing.”

“How did you even know I was here?” He asked.

“Maeve told me,” she replied, “She knew how I missed you. But I must say, we’re all shocked to find you with someone so beneath you.”

“It’s none of your business,” he snapped.

“I’m just trying to be a good friend, Rowan.”

“Well you’re not my friend,” he said, “And the only reason Aelin is here is because she heard about it and likes the restaurant.”

“Benson will be glad to hear it. He’s been looking for someone to warm his bed while we’re in town.”

“Benson will lose his most valuable parts if he so much as looks at her.”

“Well that doesn’t sound very friendly,” Remelle said. It took everything in Rowan to remain calm. “But I’ll ensure the message is conveyed.” Rowan just pulled his arm from her hold and walked into the bathroom.

When he returned to the table, he saw everyone else had already returned and Benson’s eyes were firmly fixed on his plate before him. He also saw Aelin must’ve made it back first, because she was seated in Remelle’s former chair. Rowan resisted a smile at the irritation evident in Remelle’s form.

“So, Aelin,” Essar said, “Have you been enjoying your time on the show?”

“It’s been great,” Aelin nodded, “Grueling, but great.”

“I’ve seen a few episodes. I’ve rather enjoyed it,” she said, “You and Rowan have very good chemistry.”

“Too bad it’s going to waste,” Remelle said, “I mean, what was it you said Rowan? About being only costars?” Clearly the quip was meant to wound Aelin, since she assumed there was more between them, but it didn’t strike like she’d thought it would.

“Well Rowan and I didn’t like each other for the longest time,” Aelin said, “As I’m sure you may have heard a few months ago. But we’re on friendly terms now. It’s too bad you don’t have anyone vying for yourself, Remelle. Must be lonely.” Rowan knew that one struck exactly where it was meant to.

“I like to keep my options open,” she said, “But a poor thing like you must have such an awful time finding men. I mean I heard about what happened to your poor boyfriend a few years ago. Those kinds of things certainly can wreck a woman for a while.”

Things were about to go very bad.

“Remelle,” Rowan said sharply, seeing the wrath in Aelin’s eyes. She turned to him with an innocent look, speaking in the Old Language.

What? I’m simply stating the truth.

“Speak the common tongue,” he said.

“Oh, my bad,” she said, looking over at Aelin, “I forget sometimes not everyone is so well educated.”

The food arrived just then, sparing whatever response was about to blow out of Aelin. Remelle frowned, looking at the food.

“My, this is... homely.” She reluctantly took a bite before frowning. “Oh, my. Rowan, how can you stand to eat such food? It’s a chore to even take a bite.”

“I perfer this to what I ate back in Doranelle,” he said.

“No need to be nice. They should be honored to have a celebrity even sitting here. If their food is foul, they need to know so people don’t come flocking here only to find disappointment.”

“If it’s so disappointing you can go back to Doranelle,” Aelin said with a sharply polite smile, “And if you stay I’m sure you’ll be able to find something nice to say, unless you want this food caked on your face as thick as your makeup.”

“Why I never-” She set her hand on Rowan’s. “Rowan, do you hear what this woman is saying to me? I demand she leave at once.”

“Take your hand off him,” Aelin said with a lethal calm.

“You have no room to go demanding things-” Aelin grabbed her hand, twisting it back. Remelle cried out in surprise, and perhaps a little pain.

“You’ll keep your hands off him,” she said, pushing back more, “And you’ll learn a little respect, or I’ll break your fingers like carrots. Yeah?” Aelin looked over at Rowan. “Rowan?” Remelle was trembling with something close to fear in her eyes.

“You can release her. I’d like to eat,” Rowan said. Aelin let go and Remelle stood, running out crying.

By the time dinner finished everyone was so eager to leave Aelin forwent her dessert. When they climbed back into his truck she looked over at him.

“Was I too harsh with her?” She questioned.

“She had it coming,” he replied, a small smile quirking on his lips, “I’ve never seen you so vengeful though.”

“Oh whatever,” she replied. He laced their fingers, a mockery of what Aelin had done to Remelle.

“You’ll learn a little respect, or I’ll break your fingers like carrots,” he teased.

“I cannot believe you slept with her,” Aelin said, leaving their fingers laced, gently squeezing his hand.

“You’re telling me,” he replied loosing a long breath as he leaned back in his seat.

“All that and I didn’t even get my cake,” she said, leaning against the dash.

“What a travesty,” he replied.

“I think I have the ingredients though. We could make it,” she offered.

“Not happening,” he said.

“You owe me,” she replied, “Imagine what would have happened if I’d not come.”

“Not. Happening,” he replied. She pouted, but gave in.

It was two hours after he’d dropped her off at home that he got a knock on his door. He opened it to find Aelin on the other side with a suspicious looking piece of cake in her hands.

“I should have known,” he said.

“Just try. Please? It’s still warm, even.” She looked so proud. He rolled his eyes, but took it. He ate a bite and nearly vomited. He had no idea how she went so wrong, but wrong it was. “Good right?” She asked. He nodded despite himself and quickly ate the rest just to get it over with.

“Thank you,” he said. She gave a gleeful smile, turning to walk back to the house. He could see her taste some of the remnants on the plate and gagged, spitting it out. She looked back at him and he barely managed a laugh before he had to run to the bathroom and empty his stomach.

Tagged:

@captain-timetraveldreamer @dayanna-hatter @faerie-queen-fireheart@rowaelinforeverworld @alifletcher2012 @shyvioletcat @myfeyrelady @howler07 @your-high-lady @secret-lil-rendez-vous @running-with-thieves @orangeannie @rapunzel1523 @tswaney17 @queenblueoffire @but-she-was-aelin-galathynius @ame233 @nalgenewhore @ttakeitbacknoww @mydarlingfireheart @dayanna-hatter @alifletcher2012 @shyvioletcat @runawayrowan @tangledraysofsunshine @ella-enchanted27 @highqueenofelfhame @the-regal-warrior @sleeping-and-books @they-call-me-cuatro @mariamuses @lowhangingtreebranches @cityofchelsea16 @lovemollywho @breezyfreezey @worldoffae @awkward-avocado-s @superspiritfestival @carlyrollsroyce @slytherin-25 @ireallyshouldsleeprn @mis-lil-red @mynewdreamwasyou @ifinallygavein @amren-courtofdreams @shortandbadtempered @yikesitsmaddie @iliketoasterstrudels @mymultiversee @julemmaes @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @cityofchelsea16 @tottenhamboys20 @sassys-world @claralady @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @morganofthewildfire @sjmships @rowanwhitethorn600 @deathbysasha10 @belamoonbeam

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #facade ch 12 #facade #actor au

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ckyunmoon · 4 years ago

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✨ Masterlist ✨

Requests are OPEN. You can read information regarding my rules for writing here. Please, read them before requesting something!

Currently writing for obx, but I’m open for suggestions from other fandoms, so feel free to message me! Also, if there's any broken link please let me know so I can fix it!!

JUJUTSU KAISEN

Nanami Kento

Dancing With Your Ghost: Based on the song Dancing With Your Ghost by Sasha Sloan.

Tired: Just fluff with Nanami and how good of a boyfriend he would be.

OUTER BANKS

Austin North

Cupcakes (requested prompt): Your boyfriend Austin just got a part for a new show, so you want to do something nice for him.

Grateful (requested prompt): The day before your wedding, Austin is very grateful for something.

Puppy eyes (requested prompt): You have to beg to get what you want. And you get it.

Drew Starkey

Blankets (prompt): You blush easily and whenever that happens you feel the urge to hide.

Dad!Drew (headcanon)

Don't tell her (requested prompt): Your friend Drew has a talk with his mom about you.

High School Reunion (requested prompt): You go to a high school reunion and see your friend Drew there.

Just Friends (series) FINISHED/ON HOLD: You and Drew have been friends forever, and when you start to acknowledge your feelings for him, he is casted on Netflix’s show ‘Outer Banks’.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Lazy day: You and Drew decide to stay in for a lazy day.

Missing you: You and Drew have spent a couple of months apart and when he sees you again he has his worries.

Night out (requested prompt): You and Drew are out one night and he kind of checks you out.

No time to waste (requested prompts): While waiting for your parents to arrive at your house you and Drew decide to spice things a little.

Playing games (request): Press tours are always going to be a lot of fun with someone like Drew.

Stealer (requested prompt): You take something that's not yours and the owner notices it.

Surfing buddies (request): ‘Could i please request drew x kiwi reader, where she’s also an actor on obx and she’s teaching him how to surf + loads of fluff’

The new one (request): 'Can you do an imagine with drew where the reader is new to the cast of obx (like season 2?) and she has anxiety and tries to play it off like she doesn’t to the whole crew but drew ends up seeing threw her act?'

The new one II (request): After working with Drew and the rest of the obx cast you start having feelings for Drew.

Wedding doubts (request): 'Can I request a Drew imagine something like is gonna be your wedding so you are so stressed and worried about fitting in your dress and he calms you and tell you that you are perfect, beautiful and sexy just the way you are and then he takes you out to eat something that isn’t just lettuce.'

We're done (requested prompt): You are tired of your boyfriend's behavior and you confront him.

Your Favorite Movie (requested prompt): You have a bad day and Drew is there for you.

JJ Maybank

Warm (requested prompt): You are sick and JJ decides to take care of you.

Rafe Cameron

Friends with benefits (requested prompt): You and Rafe are friends with benefits. Or were.

Friends with benefits II

Friends with benefits III

Midsummer (requested prompt): After spending a long time organizing Midsummers you forget to find a date, so Rafe decides to join you.

Off To The Races: Short blurb based on the song by Lana del Rey.

Rudy Pankow

Roommates (requested prompt): Mothers always know what's best for their sons.

Worry (requested prompt): Rudy can’t focus on anything at work because he’s thinking of you.

Topper Thornton

That Kiss: You are Topper’s friend and you help him with what’s going on with him.

#my writing #fanfiction #requests

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twilightofthe · 4 years ago

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What was your opinion of the Clovis arc? People I know either love it or hate it, no in between. I generally liked it but found it waayyy ooc.

Hey anon, thanks for the ask!!!!

AHSJFLSLALK OK SO UH. Wow. Clovis arc. Yiiiiiiikes ok so. I totally agree with you on the fandom divide and I also totally agree that everyone involved in it is rather OOC for my taste. That being said, that case of OOC is exactly why I personally do not like the arc that much at all.

(Please note that my following words are MY PERSONAL OPINIONS, and that anyone is free to disagree, in fact I welcome the discussion, and even if this is your favorite arc, please consider yourself welcome on my blog I hold nothing against those who might like it)

Part of me was gonna make a short and sweet point about how I don’t like that TCW has had both of its main female characters have unwanted kisses forced on them, and instead of teaching young girls watching to tell those kinds of people to fuck off and respect their bodies, we get: 1. Just let it happen, you both must kinda like each other anyway or 2. Stay still then sit back while your boyfriend beats him half to death

But actually turns out I wanted to spend all day writing an essay so now you get this. So far I’m gonna hit four points:

the show’s constant need for Vader foreshadowing sometimes tending to completely override Anakin’s current mindset and personality he should have at this point in the timeline as well as his preestablished characterization

the way TCW gave Anakin a giant dosage of toxic masculinity to try and please the pissy movie critics who didn’t like that he cried

the role of Padmé and how TCW tries to portray her as a “strong woman” by just having her constantly be irritated by and sometimes even look like she actively dislikes her husband while simultaneously have her act OOC so they can blame HER and her actions for Anakin’s reactions and anger and overall Fall

How I think this arc is not irredeemable and that with some fixes it could be done decently— decently, not well, because a lot of this arc’s problems are also due to preexisting writing choices throughout the show

(Ok whoops this turned into a half Clovis arc rant half entire TCW Anidala commentary)

So firstly I wanna start that yes, I am fully aware that TCW is meant to fill in the gaps between AOTC and ROTS and help explain why Anakin’s mindset in the final movie is what it is and justify his Fall. Of course we need to show some Vader foreshadowing throughout the series, and in some places it is executed very well, notably the Mortis arc, the Bad Batch arc, the Wrong Jedi arc, as well as others that I can’t cite off the top of my head currently because I might have a mild touch of heat exhaustion wooo I need to get off the beach.

But it also has some rather hamfisted Vader foreshadowing stuff too. Like, y’all know the fandom joke where it’s like “Anakin: *Accidentally Leaves The Toilet Seat Up*. The Background Music: *BLASTS the Imperial March*” but like, they actually really do that. Like the time where they have Anakin take out a terrorist about to blow up an entire ship full of people and then play the Imperial March afterwards and imply he’s a “cold-blooded killer” just to defend the moral purity of the two people who were gonna stand there and let the ship blow in the name of idealism.

I’m getting off topic but yeah, sometimes the show’s Vader foreshadowing makes sense, sometimes it’s pretty forced, and the Clovis arc DEFINITELY leans towards the forced side, and when they try to force more of Darth Vader into Anakin at a point where he shouldn’t quite be there yet, it screws with his entire character.

This is particularly shown in the majority of the show’s takes on Anakin’s relationship with Padmé. Namely, they tend to forget nearly the entirety of AOTC with the exception of the Tusken murder scene, then forget even more of ROTS up until the point where Anakin strangles her on Mustafar. Basically, they take the truth that it was Anakin’s unhealthy attachment to Padmé that sparked his Fall, but then they decide to run with it where almost every single interaction he has with her in the damn show is him being a toxic overbearing dick to her and her acting like she mildly tolerates him at most and definitely doesnt respect him as like, I guess a way of showing what happened on Mustafar is in character for them???? Ugh, I’ll explain further.

So with Anakin’s aggressive possessiveness towards her. We know Anakin has possession and attachment issues. We know he’s a clingy needy whiny anxious mess who’s constantly afraid of losing or driving away the few people he has pinned his entire happiness on. We know he leans unhealthily on Padmé to provide the majority of his emotional support. We know he’s convinced himself he can’t live without her. But never, NEVER is it seen in the movies where his possessiveness turns into outward aggression towards her or this douchey pushiness. Never does he treat her like his property, like she belongs to him.

Not until Mustafar.

Not until he’s raving, half out of his mind with the warring emotions over the atrocities he’s just committed, until he’s begging her to understand where he was coming from, begging her and the child to stay with him and justify his decision, until he sees Obi Wan and sees her backing away from him, leaving him, and he PANICS because oh no no no you can’t abandon me, I need you, doN’T YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME. And he lashes out and tries to force her to stay, punish her for leaving and doubting him, and he puts that hand around her throat.

And that is supposed to be when we know he’s crossed the line, when we’re supposed to be horrified, where we know he’s lost himself, because he has NEVER ACTED LIKE THAT BEFORE.

Now how does Anakin act before? In the movies? He’s deferential to Padmé in almost every other scene they’re in together.

In AOTC, yeah he stares at her a bit creepily from a distance, he says awkward things and does goofy stuff to impress her, but he does Not get in her face. The few times he does invade her space, she flat out tells him: stand back. Don’t look at me like that. Don’t say that. Don’t interrupt me. And Anakin always, always backs off, respects her wishes. He follows her lead and lets her call the shots both on Naboo when he’s supposed to be protecting her and when she organizes the Geonosis rescue and once they arrive where she flat out tells him “I’m a Senator, I’ll handle this, just back me up”, and he’s all but just “ok yes queen”.

But they aren’t married then. Fine, take ROTS. It’s a movie all about Anakin’s issues but even then, when he’s worried about Padmé dying, he tells her he’s worried and that he can’t lose her, but he still keeps a distance. He doesn’t constantly hover and loom over her. If anything, Padmé, both in ROTS and AOTC is always the one to approach Anakin and close the distance when there’s conflict. When Anakin is upset, he averts his eyes and distances himself, tries to draw in on himself and brood silently, and we’ve seen it in Palpatine sometimes (of course with bad motives but he still does), but Obi Wan and Padmé both especially needing to be the ones to come over, turn his face to them and be like “hey, look at me, I care about you, what’s wrong”. Padmé SAYS in ROTS when he’s feeling specifically conflicted about losing Padmé, “don’t shut me out” and has to come over to him because he’s retreated into a corner of the room to scowl angstily out the window. Anakin does NOT get overbearing and possessive of her or get in her face, not once in the films.

In the fucking show? The Clovis arc, while perhaps the worst offender, isn’t even close to being the first time Anakin has been overly pushy and aggressive with Padmé, or acting like she’s something he owns, From that time in the Senate Hostage ep where he’s bugging her about ditching work and all but acting like incels texting like “awww but babe my dick hurts :(”, from the FIRST Clovis disaster ep where he’s childishly trying to screw up Padmé’s mission, to the Clovis arc in season 6

And this is where they just roll right in with their “oh so Anakin’s an overbearing, entitled douche” bit with the interaction he has with Pads and he’s trying to talk her out of taking the Clovis assignment and he says something along the lines of “as your husband, I demand you don’t do this”.

Hwat. The Fuck.

What kind of caveman-esque, 1800’s-ass man of the house whom my wife must obediently serve kinda entitled-ass BULLSHIT?!?!?!?

Like, I’m sorry, I really am, but that is just completely out of left field and not like Anakin at all. I mean to the point that when he’s an evil Sith Lord trying to talk her into taking over the galaxy with him, EVEN THEN he does not include “Padmé you must join me because I’m your husband and you do as I say” sort of domineering assholerly.

Anakin does not push Padmé around. He does not TRY to assert authority over her or try and force her to do shit. Not only because she doesn’t put up with that kinda shit for a second, but because Anakin respects Padmé; he will treat her with respect. He always has, and sometimes like in this arc it really doesn’t feel like he does.

Now of course Padmé’s response to the “I own you” declaration is “fuck you, asshole, I do what I want” and doubling down on her decision, and then decides to go even harder on the mission if only to spite her douche husband (and we’ll get to Padmé’s characterization in a bit) which is a very different kind of Anidala conversation we see in the show as opposed to the movies (also discussed later).

Now, the reason for Anakin’s overbearing douchery ties directly into an overarching problem in TCW— honestly, one of the very few issues I have with this show, but the problem is that it touches nearly the entire thing —and that is they almost completely reworked Anakin’s personality to be more hyper-masculine alpha male.

This is a topic I’ve discussed on my blog before, but the gist is that in the movies, Anakin was not the typical male heroic protagonist and DEFINITELY not what people expected from Future Darth Vader The Masked Brutish Male Power Fantasy. He was awkward, he was shy, he was soft spoken, he was clumsy around the girl he liked, he was very openly romantic, he liked frolicking in fields and candlelit dinners and snuggling. Two of the most important people in his life were soft, feminine women and he openly loved them very dearly and very gently— and he deferred to them when he felt it was right, as I’ve mentioned before. He CRIED when he was upset and was messy and emotional. And fanboys hated this with a burning passion. They couldn’t project their power fantasy onto this!!!! The Anakin critics were a HUGE part of the mob who crucified the prequels to the point of chasing both Anakin actors practically out of the movie industry in general.

The Clone Wars writers were obviously petrified of this happening again. So their solution, as has always been Star Wars’s solution to hateful fans being upset about an innocent character, is to completely rework them, hide or retcon all the undesirable qualities, and act like everything was all fixed. Now don’t get me wrong, there are aspects of TCW Anakin that I adore. As I’ve also mentioned before, they got his humor, his cleverness, his eagerness to do the right thing, to help people, his relationship with Obi Wan and Ahsoka and his men, they got that all perfectly. But the rest??? TCW’s solution to the criticism of Movie!Anakin was to turn him into an agressive, dominant, violent shadow of everything “soft” he was in the movie

Now, he speaks loudly and more deeply. Now, he’s cocky and overconfident and while yes he was arrogant in the movies, now it’s dialed up to like an 11. He never cries, never even THINKS to show a negative emotion that’s not Manly Rage And Aggression(TM). And then there’s the way he is around the women in his life. No more awkwardness or shyness, now he makes jokes about being a “ladies man” and does whatever the fuck flirting he does with Miraj Scintel even though the Anakin from the movies would have needed like every scrap of his self control just to look at her without insta-murdering her face. And then there’s how he is with Ahsoka and Padmé. He is muuuuch more of a loud brash dudebro around them who pushes his weight and is kind of controlling and their solution is just to have the both of them be Strong Women(TM) who Fight Back whenever he tries it too hard with them.

With Ahsoka, it’s not too bad because it’s a brand new dynamic and she’s a rather agressive firecracker personality herself when we first meet her, so the constant Snips n’ Skyguy snipefest works for them. For Padmé? It just means that in far too many episodes they’re in there’s a point where Anakin says something Eh and Padmé gets mildly irritated to actually annoyed with him for it and she’ll talk down to him and then there’s an argument between them because he’s bullheaded and she’s a Strong Woman. Why do I consider these out of character?

In the movies, despite the flaws, Anidala is a couple who actually tries to communicate. Anakin feels open to speak about his troubles to Padmé and her to him (for the most part, she definitely has a savior complex and a tendency to squash her own shit so she can help deal with both Anakin’s and the galaxy’s at large) when they’re worried or concerned about something and they want to talk it out, so they’ll talk it out!

The problem with Anidala isn’t that they don’t communicate, it’s that they try but also only do it by halves because they hate fighting. They’ll talk, Anakin will say something that Padmé might disagree with— the fascism discussion in the Naboo field in AOTC, the question of whether the Republic is just or not in TPM —and she’ll try and correct him if she feels he’ll listen, but if he doubles down, she’ll go “ok you know what, agree to disagree, let’s not fight” and she subtly changes the subject because she hates fighting with him. If Pads says something Ani doesn’t like— telling Obi Wan about them in ROTS, some emotional advice she tries to give in both movies —he’ll flat out shut down and be like “I don’t want to talk about this, let’s drop it” and then seek out cuddles or affection as a distraction.

And that brings us back to the Clovis arc. The scene where the “as your husband” line occurs. Anakin is trying to talk Padmé out of doing this not because he’s jealous. Maybe he was jealous the first time he met Clovis and saw Padmé being all cute n’ fond with her old flame, but this time it seems almost entirely because last time ended in catastrophe and he’s genuinely worried for Padmé and feels she’s not thinking wisely, that she’s putting herself in danger.

However, Anakin is deciding to voice these concerns in Possessive Dudebro Pushing because of the aforementioned misguided Vader Foreshadowing and Toxic Masculinity. Padmé? Is not even CONSIDERING what he has to say, is just breezing on through and shutting him down at every turn and generally acting like he’s a dumbass who doesn’t have a clue about anything.

Now, it is very in character for Padmé Amidala to be all “I’m right, you’re wrong, fuck you don’t get in my way”. HOWEVER, they aren’t framing this as solely Padmé having a goal and bulldozing her way through the situation. That’s not how they frame this.

They frame this as: Padmé is embarrassed that she misjudged the situation wrong the last time and embarrassed even further that Anakin had to step in and get her out of trouble— which he brings up —and probably remembers that he made fun of her while he did it—

(Timing out to say that THAT scene was also OOC; they once more wanted a Vader parallel what with Anakin’s silhouette when he opens her cell door and the way Padmé’s sleeping pose is identical to Leia’s in ANH. But Anakin basically steps in and gives her this condescending-ass “awww the little wife’s gotten in over her head like I SAID she would, good thing I’m here to rescue her!” bit that’s really just MEAN. It’s not like him and Obi Wan’s/Ahsoka’s teasing snark whenever they have to pull each out of trouble, he’s just kicking her while she’s already down. Really, Anakin’s reaction should have been a lot less humorous and a lot more pissy; she didn’t listen to him, didn’t trust him, and ended up in danger because of it. It’d be a surly and upset “I told you so”, not an amused one.)

—and now it seems much more like Padmé is solely taking this assignment to spite Anakin for being a dick and to pettily prove that she knows what she’s doing rather than any sense or urge to do the right thing. And....... childish pettiness????? Is not Padmé. And yet, she has the entire immature “don’t tell me what to DO, Anakin” attitude this whole arc that amounts to WAY more than just the normal response she would have to his overcontrolling dickishness

And once again, it’s because she, like everyone else in the episode, seems to think the problem Anakin has is that he’s jealous of Clovis. He’s not, not really. He’s insecure, yes, but he also knows Clovis is a bag of dicks as well, and trusts that Padmé knows she’s better than that. His problem isn’t fears he’ll lose Padmé, it is entirely that Padmé isn’t listening to his concerns, doesn’t trust him, is going into a situation they both know is unwise, and he is frustrated he’s not in a position where he can look out for her since he feels she’s not looking out for herself. And, he’s not entirely wrong. Padmé IS being reckless and kind of irrational solely to prove a point. He just goes about it pretty much entirely the wrong way, which is what you can really say is the cause and effect formula for any problem Anakin Skywalker encounters and subsequently makes worse.

And then there’s That Scene. The one where Clovis tries to force a kiss on Padmé and Anakin freaks and almost kills him for it. I’ll start off by quoting another Tumblr user on that very scene by saying in regards to Clovis: “that bitch deserved that”. The almost murder? Maybe not that far, but the initial hitting for disrespecting someone’s “no”? Yep, that was deserved.

My first criticism is that Anakin shouldn’t have even had time to attack him because why the fuck wasn’t Padmé instantly kneeing him in the balls?!?! Like Padmé is not prone to violence immediately, no, but she can will and does defend herself immediately when she needs to— her right punch knocked someone tf out once when she was pissed —and she already gave him a warning that his advances were not welcomed.

Now, I am absolutely not victim blaming. I am NOT saying it is the fault of a woman (I’d be a hypocrite if I did and that’s all I’ll say on THAT), or of anyone when faced with sexual harassment, if they don’t fight back for whatever reason, no matter how capable of doing so they may be. What I’m saying is that considering her previous behavior and personality and the fact that the show NEVER goes deep enough into explaining heavy stuff like why victims might freeze or NOT fight back when faced with harassment, I feel like showing her not attempting to defend herself at all is kinda strange.

Now, Padmé’s utter passiveness to the situation aside, we’re going back into toxic masculinity and misunderstood interpretations of how Anakin displays possession. While I’ll repeat that Clovis deserved consequences for the forced kiss, Anakin going full caveman defending his property jealous rage just. Doesn’t feel right to me. Again, I think Anakin would probs hit him and put the fear of living god into him, maybe even I’d buy the attempted murder if they framed it as Anakin doing it because he hates those who force their will on others and disrespect women, but the whole that’s MY wife and you’re touching her shite just once more feels alpha male aggressive ridiculousness. Like again, I understand Anakin is possessive of Padmé, but not like this. I’m sorry, but I just cannot see that, him fighting over her like she’s a scrap of meat.

Like, I completely think she’s in the right tho to put them on a break after he does it though. That’s well within her right.

But then onto the FINAL part where after Clovis goofs and fucks them all over and then dies, she forgives him and blames herself for everything and apologizes. And like, that part I do see as in canon and character for her and for Anakin. He doesn’t like to admit his mistakes, her mistakes weigh on her and when she fails to fix or save someone, she falls into depression and upset and self-blame.

But the fact that Clovis died because Anakin dropped him? Anakin Skywalker, who scaled an entire elevator shaft carrying two people over his back who combined probs weighed more than Padmé and Clovis. Anakin Skywalker, who’s used the Force to lift tons of debris, who’s used it to hold back explosions, Anakin Skywalker, MOST POWERFUL FORCE USER IN HISTORY WHO TENDS TO RELY ON BRUTE STRENGTH FOR MOST SHIT ANYWAY. That Anakin couldn’t pull two people over a ledge?!?!?!?!? This has always bothered me.

Like to be honest; I feel this entire episode could have been so fixable too. Like keep Anakin’s obsessive worry over Padmé making a mistake, keep the best part of the arc which is his talk with Obi Wan where Obi Wan tries to connect with him and explain that he’s not alone, all Jedi have emotional struggles and have loved, if perhaps he wants to TALK to someone about it, Obi Wan is here for him, like that? That’s okay!

Just ugh ffs, get rid of the nasty Anakin treating Padmé like a naughty dog who won’t obey him and the Padmé purposely acting unwisely to spite Anakin plot. Have the entire conflict be both of them being upset that the other doesn’t trust them, doesn’t believe in their advice, keep Padmé’s speech about how marriages NEED trust and compromise to survive, take all of Anakin’s aggression towards Padmé and transfer it to aggression towards Clovis, like make the conflict him menacing the guy if he hurts Padmé again just because he’s being overprotective and “if you won’t look out for yourself I will” and Anakin getting constantly checked for not being able to control his emotions, Padmé can tell him off for being overprotective instead of overaggressive and his possessiveness can instead show through him arguing that he needs to keep her safe at all costs. THAT can be the argument.

And if they want the Vader foreshadowing? Like real, in-character Vader foreshadowing??? Tbh, drop the Clovis beatdown, drop the machoness towards Padmé, and just have Anakin blatantly DROP the douchebag at the end of the episode instead of his hand slipping. Make him choose to ACTIVELY kill Clovis. Like THAT, Anakin taking the law into his own hands and deciding that he knows best and this guy is dangerous and has fucked up one too many times, there being an opportunity where there’s an chance to save Clovis when they’re alone without Pads, “be a Jedi, Padmé wouldn’t want this, do the right thing” Clovis might say, and we can see Anakin’s face considering, and then he just “Long Live The King”s him and lets him fall and die, THAT is an in-character Vader foreshadowing.

Then at the end of the episode, we can have Anakin lie to her, say Clovis slipped, say it was too late, and Padmé can believe him, thank him for trying. Then there’s the same thing where Padmé apologizes, and we can have a callback to the convo about trust and she adds that she’s sorry that she didn’t trust him, and when she says that, we zoom in on Anakin’s guilty face.

There. That’s how I’d fix these episodes

And THERE, I think I’ve complained about everything, I am SO sorry for the gigantic ass post and response, I’ll add a read more once I’m on my laptop and not on the beach on mobile.

But yeah anon, I hope that satisfies your question xD

Once again, I welcome discussion if y’all either agree with me or if you have any differing opinions, I know my takes are far from hot for several people and I’m curious to see what others think!

#i’m SO sorry i got carried away but yeah this arc and one or two others (one in particular) are the only arcs that kiiinda set me off tbh #long post #ask #anon #one (1) hot mess #queen of my heart #star-crossed lovers #sw the clone wars #anidala #the clone wars

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justadram · 4 years ago

Text

Fic: In Fallow Fields

Part 3 of 3; Parts 1 and 2

Jon/Sansa, post-series; complete

A warm morning following on the heels of a cool night coats the blades of thin, bright grass with glittering dew. It darkens the hem of her wedding gown, creeping up the hem with every steady step she takes. Until it soaks through the layers beneath, penetrating to the flesh. Standing beneath the spreading limbs that make up what’s left of the godswood, Sansa feels the dampness in the cling of the embroidered stockings she rolled up her calves, when she woke and dressed without aid of a serving girl on her wedding day.

A moon or two ago, wet stockings and dew laden skirts in the chill of the morning air would have raised the delicate hairs on her arms and up the back of her neck. But it is warm. Blissfully so. Blue skies herald the day and the spring sunshine is a bright white that pierces the soil as certainly as it does the eyes, forcing her to blink against each chink of light that breaks the canopy as she approaches. The season has shifted.

With the sun shining in through the trees, the only thing that sends a thrill up her spine is Jon’s hand taking hers and pulling her in close with his eyes fixed upon her lips.

...

Sansa dislikes the taste of sour wine and ale, but Tormund’s fermented potatoes yield a practically flavorless drink. The warm burn it sets up in her belly is the same as if it was a chore to force down, but she manages to sip it without a grimace.

There are no frowns today, not even from her stony faced little brother or Arya, who has made it plain she wants none of the details of their arrangement, save that she might teach any forthcoming children to wield a sword, believing her technique superior to Jon’s. However skilled her sister is--and her skill is considerable--Sansa can’t bring herself to agree with the assessment entirely. Arya might be the only one alive to have watched Jon fight the undead on behalf of Westeros and scoff at his form. Even Tormund, for all his teasing, does not fault Jon on that point.

Tormund is plenty fond of teasing though, and today’s proceedings have unleashed a torrent of jests. She smiles over her cup at Jon--her lord husband--as Tormund claps him on the back hard enough to slosh some of the clear liquid over the rim of Jon’s cup onto his black jerkin. The broad-chested wildling urges Jon to drink. Filling his cup back up even as Jon protests. Again. For a second time and a third. It’s as merry as any of them have been, since they returned to Winterfell. It is their wedding that has made it so, even more so than the drink.

For a wedding toast--that’s how Tormund convinced Jon to grant him some of the harvest. It was not a bad crop, despite their collective lack of skill, and with the threat of starvation put aside, Jon allowed his friend the indulgence. Just so long as it was done in the name of pleasing Sansa.

She could have done without. Though weddings before were celebrated with feasting and drinking and song, Sansa doesn’t think anything missing from their day. Although, she wouldn’t have turned her nose up at a hind of venison in lemon gravy or a towering fruit cake iced in marzipan with candied lemons--anything with lemons, which she sometimes thinks she’ll never taste again, isolated in a North cut off from what feels like the rest of the world. A dress that she didn’t have to mend by the light of the fire might have been welcome too. But the strong burn of this drink will probably serve the bride and bridegroom better.

There were times past, when she drank to drown her sorrows on a wedding night. This isn’t like that. There are nerves, but she doesn’t dread the moment they will be alone. She doesn’t fear Jon’s lips on hers or his hands at her waist.

She has awakened from dreams of a full stream and arching backs on the banks with hair twined around fingers that pull. In that place between sleep and waking, she remembered it, no shadowed figures but clear enough to be a memory, not a figment. Jon’s dark hair, his beard rough on her skin, and his hands sure and eager. It felt familiar and welcome, as if it had always been him.

But there are ghosts. Hers and his. And though not all are malicious--her lord father and lady mother, for one--they haunt them all the same. And so she sips, welcoming the burn, and watches him with cheeks that hurt from smiling, as Tormund claps him one more time.

...

“I’ve had too much,” Jon says, sinking his head into his hands, as she lowers herself beside him on the bed.

Pulling his hands through his hair brings it back. It’s like lightning briefly illuminating a distant corner of her mind--hands in her hair, hot mouth on her neck, and twitching muscles under her questing touch. A moment from a dream as real as if it were out of time, akin to Bran's own warped vision of the world. He’s left her panting in an empty passageway, from his kisses, but they’ve never touched like that.

She swallows thickly and moves to touch his leg, grounding herself in what’s real. Looking down at her pale fingers against the dark of his breeches, as his comforting warmth seeps through the coarse fabric.

The icicles are gone. Melted by the sun and sent crashing down to the ground, where the mud became so thick, it could suck you in with its viscous pull as much as from its earthy fecund smell.

But she still hears it, in the silence of the room, the awakening water, tip-tapping to the beat of her heart.

“You needn’t keep your wits about you. It’s only me.”

It’s a trick, getting the words out, as an unfamiliar desire urges her to test the firmness of his thigh higher, following the rise of muscle.

“Only you?” he says with an awkward smile, the one she’s loved too much for too long.

Over tables shared, whether talking of the past, worrying about the future, or dining on meager fare, she’s looked on it and felt an answering flutter. Sometimes a pleasant sensation and other times a shock of terror, since everything she has ever loved has been ripped from her grasping hands.

Surely he wore it when they were children, though she struggles to summon images of them as children, running through the halls of this shell of a great caste. But she knows she felt no great fondness for it. Not then. Not like Bran’s smile delighted her, the one he no longer can summon.

“You are my weakness.”

The low gravel of the confession and his gaze raking over her, swells her chest in anticipation of something so close. Her cheeks, growing warm, betray the pleasure his words awaken in her. She ought not to want it, but she longs to be more than a convenient match, something that might bring them both a small measure of happiness.

He reaches up and tucks her hair behind her ear, his rough fingers following the curve of her ear with impossible care. “Weakness or strength. I’m not certain which.”

“Either way,” she says, fingernail toying with the weave of his breechcloth, “you overstate my importance.”

A wedding night pronouncement perhaps. Made to assuage whatever jealousies she might wickedly harbor. It isn’t necessary. He is more than enough, his being hers is plenty. She will never cease being grateful for what remains.

His dark brows climb high, as his fingertips tease at her hairline. “I couldn’t even put up a good show of refusing, when Arya came for me.”

Her head tilts, as she takes in the long slope of his nose, the rise of his cheeks, his dark eyes. No one is as formed for this place than Jon--the spitting image of their father, of a long line of Starks.

“These walls call us home.”

“No, it’s the people in them,” he says, the curve of his finger lazily tracing her flesh, up and down. “I turned down Winterfell before, when it was offered. You I could not refuse. I’d tried. I left, I went south because of you.”

Sansa would have never sent him South. She begged him not to go to an early grave like their father, uncle, and grandfather before him. “Not for me.”

She can’t make herself say Daenerys’ name aloud but Jon’s eyes cut sharply to hers all the same, the unsaid plain.

He might have mourned her and loved her once and her dragons may have played a role in the fight for the dawn, but Daenerys was a threat to everything Sansa wanted from the moment the Dragon Queen stepped foot on Westeros’ soil. She is a apparition better unnamed.

“When I left for Dragonstone...” With his fingers lingering at the bend of her neck where her gown ends, his throat rolls above his collar. She wishes they’d go farther, sink into the thick of her scalp. She’s ready to lean into his touch, rub against him like a mewling kitten. “You are not a Lannister, but I may be.”

She blinks, as the words sink into her, clearing her fogged mind. It rearranges conversations and looks that passed between them into a slightly shifted reality, and she sits there, letting all the pieces settle.

Would the acknowledgement have unnerved her then? As he was taking his leave? She felt so desperate to keep him close, so fearful of losing a piece of her family that felt as vital as a piece of herself, she can’t be sure.

However she might have felt, it doesn’t matter now. The past is just that and they have survived until now to face a future together.

She bumps his shoulder with hers, hoping to draw another hint of a smile from him. “Of the two of us, I am the only one who was--for a time--a Lannister. You are a Stark.”

“Targaryen then.”

“Yes, and in another world,” she says, letting her hand slide up as she imagined doing, the heavy fabric rasping under the brush of her hand, “where Father did not have to pretend you were something you were not, I might have always been yours. He might have wanted us to wed, and saved us both some trouble.”

“Trouble,” he repeats at the minimizing of their miseries. At that he finally does smile, something broader than his upside down twitch of a smile. “We still would have argued.”

“Oh, worse,” she agrees. “In the end, though, it’s all the same. I am yours.”

#jonsa #jon x sansa #gotfic #fanfic #game of thrones

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rovewritesit · 4 years ago

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Angel Of My Dreams (Chapter 1) John Deacon x Reader Series

I’ve read so many fan fics in the past four months and I thought it was high time to try my hand at it. I’ve created this side blog so that I can 1) Express my love for Queen and 2) Not annoy the randos from high school and college who still follow my main. This’ll be a slow burn folks, so hold on to your hats.

Series summary: After reluctantly joining a band with your childhood best friends, you are thrust into oncoming stardom with no sea legs and an overwhelming sense of anxiety. But you just might find your way, thanks to some seasoned pros by your side. And the interest of one particular bassist.

This series is a work of fiction, and is loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4

Pairing: John Deacon x Reader (eventually)

Chapter Warnings: Lots o’ curses

Chapter Summary: This is basically just some set up for the series. No Deacy yet, but a meet-cute to happen very soon! I got the band name with the help of some random band name generator so be kind. I’m hoping to introduce in some songs readers may not have heard - I was thinking of “Heart of the Night” by Juice Newton while writing this, hence the single name and album.

Song/Title Inspiration: Angel - Fleetwood Mac

- - - - - - -

Days of Our Lives Documentary Shoot - 2010

(Brian May and Roger Taylor Joint Interview)

“The early 80s were huge for us, for sure. I believe we were at our biggest then, internationally speaking.” Brian states, glancing over to Roger.

“Yes, Another One Bites the Dust really set things a-flame I think. The traveling and playing were constant. The crowds getting bigger by the venue. Parties, hotels, girls, more parties. We were meeting just so many people.” Roger adds.

“And one of those being a certain American female rock singer.” The interviewer adds quietly from off-camera.

Roger glances over to him with a questioning look, but Brian catches on quick, like always.

“Ah yes, that particular rock goddess. We did meet her around then, I believe, yes. Maybe a few years after.” Brian says knowingly, still playing along.

Roger stares into space with a confused look on his face until the realization hits him. “Are we talking about Y/N?” Roger mutters to Brian. “Yes” Brian chuckles, patting his friend on the shoulder.

“Oh, what a spit-fire she is! Not back then though. Fred really worked some magic with that one. Almost inseparable those two were.” Roger laughs out, a wave of nostalgia washing over his face.

Brian raises his large eyebrows, “Deacy would beg to differ I think.”

Roger smirks, “Oh, well that’s a whole different story.”

- - - - - - -

1982 - MTV Studios, New York City

You run your hands up and down your thighs, trying to will your left knee to stop repeatedly bouncing up and down. The satin of your pants does nothing for the layer of sweat on your clammy hands. You fold them together in your lap and gaze around the studio instead, taking in the bustling of crew members as they ready for the pre-taped interview. The god-like VJ, Alan Hunter, sits in a chair off to the side as someone artfully pieces his blonde locks into place. He grins over at you with a small wave. You limply lift your hand in a greeting, pasting on a small smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

You catch your pained expression as you glimpse a monitor off-camera. A friendly woman backstage had painted your face to the point of being almost unrecognizable. Gone was the evidence under your eyes of the restless sleep you’d fought the previous night. They were wide and doed, rather than their normal crescent shape. Your lips full and vibrant, your hair bounced and fanned out around your face. And your skin seemed to be glowing, masking the spots that had popped up overnight from stress. You looked every bit the rock goddess the label hoped to paint you as, and the exact opposite of the nerves currently threatening to overtake your body.

“Y/N, I can feel you vibrating from here. Take a deep breath. It’s gonna be fine.” Rich commented from beside you. His legs were splayed out, his arms bent behind his head. Looking as relaxed as can be, as if he were on his couch at home catching a movie marathon, about to doze off.

“How can you be so calm right now?” You rush out. “Who knows how many people are going to see this interview. Do you know how many times a day I accidentally let the F word fly out of my mouth?”

Rich lets out a snort. “I happen to know exactly how much you curse, thank you. Yesterday you said fuck 3 times in one sentence. It was charming, my mom loved it.” He moves his right arm to squeeze around your shoulders. Usually, it would be a comforting display of friendship, but you shake it off.

“And look at those three. Already so at home, I see.” You nod to the three other members of the band. Steve is exuding energy like yourself, but it’s excitement that bubbles from him. His eyes flit around the room quickly as he taps out some unknown rhythm on his bent legs. A wide grin permanently fixed on his boyish features.

At the far end of the couch, Eddie and Lawrence are wrapped up in a not-so-silent game of knuckles.

“Son of a-- Will you take off those damn rings? It’s my turn and I’m still getting bruised.” Lawrence huffs. Eddie wiggles his long, skilled, silver-clad fingers in front of his face and raises his eyebrows. “It’s all about the look, baby. Gotta play the part of the guitar god.”

“Will you both knock it off.” You call over to them. “We need both those sets of hands in playing shape for tomorrow night.”

Eddie turns, probably to counter with some playful comment about how you mother them too much, but Alan approaches.

“Alright, guys. And girl.” He flashes his perfectly white teeth your way again. “We’re about 5 minutes out from going up. Anybody need anything? Water, vodka, beer…” He turns his gaze to Steve, who is still tapping lightly on his legs. “A Xanax, perhaps?”

“Waters all around would be great, thanks.” You offer. Alan nods to a twitchy PA waiting to his side and they hurry off.

“Oh wait up, a Bud Light too, if you have any!” Eddie calls after them. The other three boys echo the same as well.

“You can take the boys out of Long Island…” you mutter to yourself. Rich teasingly pokes your side. “And something stiff for the lady!” He shouts out.

“In all manner of ways” Steve giggles. You feign a shocked expression and reach over to place a gentle slap to the side of his head. He looks over with big apologetic eyes and you stifle a laugh.

In record time, the lanky PA rushes back over with a myriad of drinks, all threatening to topple over on the tray they were precariously balanced on. Another PA trails behind, handing you all water, which you’re in desperate need of. They hand the drinks out one by one and stop before you. “Your water, Miss. And I didn’t know what you liked so I have a jack and coke, a whiskey sour, and a gin and tonic.”

“The gin and tonic is great, thanks.” They hurriedly hand you the drink and go to turn away. “Love your hair by the way.” You tell them. “I’m absolute shit at styling mine. Guess I’ll have to learn now.” They smile back at you and run a hand through their short locks before disappearing amongst the rest of the crew.

“Okay, we’re ready to rock n’ roll!” Alan exclaims, getting the band’s attention as he sits down in a chair next to your side of the couch. “We’re going to start off with a few basics on the band. Your lower thirds will have your instruments labeled but feel free to explain how you guys started out, your influences, your process. I’ll prompt you in between and then we'll talk about the album and promote your upcoming tour towards the end. Should take 15 minutes tops, so keep your answers brief. But I won’t say no to any rowdy stories you want to throw in.” He finishes with a wink.

The band nods along as you gulp down a breath, your palms becoming even slicker. The stage manager’s high voice rings out around the studio. “Playback ready! Live to tape in 5.. 4...” Rich places a hand over your knee and gives a squeeze. “Light em’ up, Bun” he mutters in your ear.

“3.. 2..” She holds up a finger and then points it at Alan, a wide smile already set on his face. The camera light flicks red as the MTV open plays from speakers around the room. Alan beings as the song fades out.

“We’re here in the studio and boy, am I excited to get to know this next band. Over at MTV we’ve been watching the steady rise of their single “Heart of the Night” on the charts. And as an added surprise, they’re here to introduce their very first music video. I’m very pleased to welcome to the studio, Lo & The Limbs!”

You try to relax your face as a camera pans across the band and settles on a two-shot of you and Alan. You know your eyes are gleaming with anxiety so you glance down the couch, silently praying for one of the boys to take the lead.

“Thanks for having us Alan, it’s such a trip to be here.” Eddie says with ease, resting his forearms on his knees.

“So, I have to ask. Who is Lo? Is it you Lawerence?” Alan questions the piano player.

“Oh god, no.” Lawrence chuckles. “Our high school was affectionately called Lo High, for Long Island HighSchool of the Arts. So we sort of tacked that on while playing during those years to let people know where we were from. That and well, as you can see we’re all above 6 foot except for Y/N, so a lot of limbs going on here.”

Alan gives a short laugh. “You released your debut album, Quiet Lies, earlier this year to growing success. Why don’t you tell me how you all started out.”

“Well, the boys and I have been together for a few years. We’ve been friends since grade school and we always just used to jam about. As we got older we started playing local bars back on Long Island to mostly middle-aged crowds, trying to break in, but it wasn’t working. Then Rich had the idea to invite Y/N to join up and it’s all kind of all taken off from there.” Eddie explains.

“We needed a pretty face to balance out all these ugly mugs” Steve pipes up.

“It took a while for her to finally concede though. She was off being too studious for the likes of us.” Rich adds on with a smile and nudge to your side. Your eyes grow wide as you feel a question directed at you coming on.

“Is that true, Y/N?”

“I- I guess, I was at NYU studying documentary filmmaking.” You choke out, but continue on. “Love this lighting set up, by the way, it really hides all sins.” That gets a light chuckle out of the crew surrounding you.

“And these sins you’re hiding are…” Alan grins but quickly bounces to the next topic. “Certainly a good call, Rich. Heart of the Night is the only song off the album that Y/N is singing lead on and look how well it’s doing. How did that happen?”

“Most of our songs were already written from before when we finally got the money to record. We wanted Y/N to feel a part of it, so she went on and wrote Heart of the Night and we were all very pleasantly surprised that it’s become such a hit.” Steve explains. “She also directed the music video we’ll be debuting today. I can’t believe she let us do all the things we did in that… well, you’ll just have to see for yourselves. We can be a bit of a handful.” The boys all chuckle.

“That and she plays the weirdest collection of instruments. Rhythm guitar, any type of strings, the saxophone… She's a boss on the harmonica.” Eddie turns to you as he speaks. “You just need to get over those pesky little nerves about your singing, Bun!” He points in your direction.

You feel the heat rise behind your perfectly painted cheeks at the slip of your nickname. You cast your gaze down at your lap. Not liking how the conversation has turned directly onto you.

Alan quirks an eyebrow at you. “Bun?” He teases.

You have yet to lift your eyes when Rich answers for you. “Bunny, an affectionate nickname. It’s stuck around since grade school when she wandered into Lawrence's backyard in search of a rabbit she was chasing.”

“A rockstar called Bunny. There’s a first for everything.” Alan quips, but quickly notices your displeasure in the current topic. Sensing your growing panic, he addresses the rest of the group. “This has been quite the debut album, with more hits sure to come from it. Any bands you’ve taken inspiration from while writing and producing?”

Rich jumps at the question. “Fleetwood Mac would be a big one. The way they layer their sounds is just unmatchable. You catch something new with every listen of an album of theirs.”

“I can’t be a pianist from Long Island and not mention the granddaddy, Billy Joel.” Lawrence adds. “His songs take you on such a ride. They’re full stories, each one of them.”

“And you, Y/N?” Alan directs the next question. “Who will you be drawing inspiration from when you write your next hit single?”

You smile to yourself. “It’s gotta be Queen for me. I’ve loved every one of their albums. I mean, the way they’ve changed their sound just in the past few years alone. They’re always transcending. Never afraid to try out something new or weave a different genre into one of their songs. But you always know it’s a Queen song. I saw them 2 years ago when they played the Garden, and fu--” You catch yourself as you get more animated. “And they were all just so on. Perfectly in sync. There’s something so distinct about their sound, so practiced. I’d love to get to their level, to be able to experiment like that. To give joy in the way they’ve given it to me.” You finish. Realizing you’ve rambled for a bit, you turn your eyes downwards yet again.

“I think that’s the most I’ve heard you talk since you came into the studio!” Alan laughs. “Well, you heard it here first folks, Y/N L/N is a Queen fan, just like the rest of us. I’m sure you’re just as excited about their new album as well.” You nod quickly as Rich hides a smile. Knowing full well you’ll be first in line to purchase their new album, Hot Space when it drops.

“But before you get off to writing more hits, I believe you have a tour coming up!” Alan states, signaling that the interview is wrapping up.

“Yeah, we have a small American tour starting in February. But until then we’ll be opening up for Hall and Oates during their tour of the NorthEast next month.” Steve says excitedly, bouncing slightly in his seat.

“And with that, I think we’ll roll into the long-anticipated music video and directorial debut for the lovely Y/N L/N. Thank you all so much for coming in today and I can’t wait to see what’s next on the horizon for you. Here’s Lo & The Limbs with Heart of the Night!” Alan keeps his painted smile till the red light vanishes from above the lens on the large pedestal camera in front of him.

You breathe out the breath you’d been choking on as Rich puts an arm around your shoulders. He leans in and whispers lightly, “And only one hint of a fuck, ladies and gentlemen. She might just make it in this business after all.”

- - - - - - -

One Month Later - Veterans Memorial Coliseum - New Haven, Connecticut

The Limbs bound off the stage in full force, glistening with sweat and excitement. It was the largest crowd they’d played for by far. 10,000 people cheered from the audience as roadies and crew moved around them to set up for the main act, Hall and Oates. Rich spreads his long arms and huddles the rest of the group into a family hug, your skin sticking to one another, the smell of sweat filling your noses.

“I just want us to all remember this moment.” He speaks to the group, foreheads touching. “Even if nothing happens past this album. That was insane.”

“Absolutely bonkers, dude!” Steve says and he bounces up and down beside you. You all take a deep collective breath and squeeze.

“Alright, get off of me you fucks.” You laugh, untangling yourself from their vast expanse of limbs. “We all stink and I have to get out of all... this” You gesture to the skin-tight bodysuit your best friend, Dawn, had insisted you wear. Eddie presses a light kiss to your temple as he lets you into the dressing room first to change out of their view.

You close the door and sigh, glancing at yourself in the mirrors that line one wall of the room. Your eyes are bright, your hair is two times the size of when you went out on stage an hour before, and your makeup looks like you’d been in a fight. Grinning to yourself, you start to unlatch the halter top of the bodysuit, excited for the air to cool your skin.

Just as you are about to shimmy out of the rest of the ensemble, the door bursts open.

“Shit! Lawrence, what the hell?!” Scrambling to cover your top half.

Lawrence trains his eyes to the ceiling as he speaks. “Bunny, you gotta… just cover up and get your ass out here. You just... You gotta see, c’mon.”

Flustered, you hurry to redress your sticky body. After making sure everything is properly covered, you step out into the hallway backstage, already glaring at the boys. They’re all tight-lipped, staring at one another. “Okay, someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?” You say loudly. “Shhhhh” Rich hisses as he gestures behind him with a shake of his head. You glance over his shoulder to see the backs of two men. John Hall and Daryl Oates.

“Yeah, okay... I don’t get it. We’ve hung out with them like 5 times. Why are we fangirling?”

Rich widens his eyes at you and you glance back at them again. This time they part and you can catch a glimpse of who they’ve been talking to.

The flash of a tight leather jacket, a mustache, and two front teeth shining while laughter erupts from behind them.

You gasp.

“Fucking, fuck. That’s Freddie fucking Mercury.” You say, a bit too loud.

The bold man in question locks eyes with you. Something mischievous dances behind them as he narrows his gaze. Daryl and John move to their roadies to get fixed up before heading out on stage and Freddie lets out a sharp burst of laughter as he makes his way over. Your stomach churns with embarrassment but you can’t tear your eyes from his.

“Quite the redundancy of expletives, my dear. All you had to do was say hello.” he grins at you, all teeth. You’re not one to get too clammy in front of other musicians, but your voice gets trapped in your throat. You pray to whatever gods are out there that your eyes don’t get any wider.

Eddie’s easy charm luckily saves you. “This beautiful songstress right here is Y/N L/N.” You barely lift your arms as Freddie pulls you in for a light hug and kiss on the cheek. “But you can call her Bunny.” Eddie grins. So much for easy charm you think as you stare daggers into the profile of his face.

“Ha! Bunny? Oh my, that is wonderful.” Freddie chuckles. “It sounds as if you’re a socialite... Or a stripper. I can’t tell.” He beams at you. You can’t help but beam right back.

“Come along. Let us watch the show and you can tell me which one it is.” He says with a wink. “And introduce me to these giants you call your band.” He grabs your arm and leads you off, the boys in tow. Bouncing with excitement for what’s to come.

#queen fic #queen fanfiction #queen fanfic #john deacon #john deacon fic #john deacon imagine #john deacon x reader #john deacon series #deaky fic #deacy fic #deaky x reader #deacy x reader #angelofmydreams

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 4 years ago

Text

Rafe Cameron x reader (pt 3)

Summary: You, a pogue and Rafe Cameron, a kook are friends of benefits, secretly of course. But what happens when you get pregnant?

Part 1 // Part 2

A/N: Here is part 3!! Please please please read the author’s note at the end! Thank you so much for the continued support of this. You all are AMAZING. I love y’all. xx

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

I am currently taking requests for:

The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Elijah Mikaelson

Damon Salvatore

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid

Derek Morgan

Supernatural (I’m only up to season 2, so please don’t request something with spoilers)**

Sam Winchester

Dean Winchester

Outer Banks (Netflix):

John B Routledge

JJ Maybank

Rafe Cameron

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

There was screaming and cries all around you. What happened? Oh right, someone shot a gun. There was a pang in your side, huh, that kind of hurts. When you looked down you could see your white shirt turning red, that looks like blood. Is it mine? Looking at the eyes in front of you, you could see a panicked Rafe. He didn’t look high anymore, they looked normal, like the ones you fell in love with. Turning your head, you could see John B rushing to you out of the water. Then you let your eyes fluttered closed.

John B and everyone around watched in horror. He was quick, catching you before you fell against the sand. “Y/n!” Slowly he went to his knees, with you in his arms, your back against his chest.

“What the hell, Rafe?!” John B yelled, looking up at Rafe.

As soon as that gunshot rang out, Rafe’s high was over and he was back to reality. “I-I didn’t mean too!” His hands go up to his head, gripping at his hair, “Is she alive?”

JJ pushed Rafe out of the way and dropped to your side, holding his hands against your stomach, “Someone call 911!”

Kie screamed. JJ was yelling about being stupid for bringing the gun in the first place. Pope was yelling about keeping pressure on the wound. John B was yelling at y/n to stay with him. Hands were shaking him, “Rafe! We gotta go man, the police are on their way.” Topper. He was in a haze, watching the scene in front of him. He doesn’t remember doing it, but his feet carried himself through the sand and to his truck.

“Oh god, JJ there’s a lot of blood.” John B cried, rocking back and forth.

“I know dude, I’m trying!” He looked around, “I need more towels!”

John B looked around, “Where the hell is the paramedics?!” His hands were gently rubbing your cheek, “Please, please stay with me.”

Kie and Pope quickly returned with the towels gathered from the beach.

Pope dropped to y/n’s side next to JJ and put more towels, but the blood just kept seeping through. “Kie, run up to the road and flag them down.” Pope instructed. Kie nodded before running off.

John B cradled you in his arms, “I can’t lose her…I can’t.”

That’s when JJ and Pope knew, you were the mystery girl he was in love with.

“Please, let me ride with her!” John B begged the paramedic, who shook her head, “I’m sorry son, you can’t. Is there anything else we should know about her?”

John B nods, “S-she’s pregnant. 2 months…” The paramedic nodded before hopping into the back with you.

JJ grabbed John B’s shoulder, “Come on man, I’ll drive you. We’ll follow behind.”

“She’s coding!” Is the last thing he heard as the doors shut and the paramedics drove off.

John B’s knee bounced up and down as he sat in the hospital chair. His head was in his hands. It had been 4 hours since they arrived and there was no word. He’d called your mom, but she was out of town with your dad and wouldn’t be home until tomorrow.

“She’s going to be fine, John B.” Kie comforted, “She’s strong.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” John B looked up when he heard JJ yelling. Walking through the waiting room doors was Rafe and Topper.

“Please, I just wanted to make sure she was okay.” Rafe begs, “I don’t want to start anything.”

“You’re the reason she’s fighting for her life, asshole!” Pope yelled.

Kie stands and goes to the boys as people begin looking around, “We’re all going to get kicked out if you idiots don’t shut the hell up!” She whisper yells, “JJ, Pope, go sit back down.” JJ and Pope didn’t move, “I said go.” She gave them a little shove and they finally obliged and sat back down.

“Please, Kie, is she okay?”

“We don’t know. We haven’t heard anything.” She points to chairs on the opposite side of the boys, “Sit down.”

Topper and Rafe follow Kie’s orders and sit down.

“If she dies, it’s on you Cameron.” John B snaps, looking up at Rafe before standing and storming off.

After two more long hours, a surgeon walked out into the waiting room, clip board in hand. “Is the family of y/n y/l/n here?”

All the pogues, Topper and Rafe stood from their seats.

“You all are family?” The surgeon asked.

John B nodded, “We’re her family.”

“Our mother loves to adopt kids.” JJ comments when he sees the surgeon looking at all of them. The surgeon continues to look at them weird before shaking his head, “Alright.”

“How is she? Is she and the baby okay?” John B asks.

The surgeon motions back to the chairs and sits down. They follow and all sit back down, John B at the edge of his seat.

“It was touch and go for a while, but she is one lucky girl. She lost a good bit of blood and she coded in the ambulance. However, we finally managed to get a pulse when she arrived. Then, we took her straight into surgery. The bullet was a through and through, hitting her spleen. We did have to remove the spleen, there was no way around that. However, she’s going to have to be very careful the rest of her life because now she’s going to be prone to infections. But other than that, she should make a full recovery.” The surgeon explains.

“is..what about the baby?” Kie asks, “Was the baby okay?”

The surgeon nods, “fetus is fine.”

“Can we see her?” JJ asks.

The surgeon nods, “Only 2 at a time though. I’ll have a nurse show you to her.” The surgeon stands.

“Thank you, doctor.” Rafe holds his hand out to the surgeon who nods, returning the hand shake and walking off.

The pogues and two kooks share glances, Pope asks, “So, who’s the first two?”

Rafe knows he won’t be one of the first two, so he doesn’t even try it, “John B, you and Kiara go back first.”

Rafe waits patiently in the waiting room with Topper and the other pogues. You were going to be okay.. and so was his baby. His mind’s running a million miles a minute. It had been confirmed, you were pregnant with his baby. He’d overheard some girls at the Boneyard talking about it and that’s when he stormed off to you. Was that what you wanted to talk about when you stopped by his house that day? He’d been such an ass to you. The drugs had taken control of him and he just let it, which caused him to lose the best thing that happened to him. He wondered how you’d ever forgive him after this.

John B was the first one you saw when you woke up. His hand was holding yours and he was smiling through his tears, “Hi..”

You smiled weakly, “Hey.”

He gently pushed hair off your forehead, “I thought I had lost you.”

“What even happened?” wincing you laid your head back on the pillow, “This shit hurts.” John B looks at Kie who nods, “I’ll go get the nurse,” she stands from her chair and exits the room.

“Well, you got shot.” He chuckled softly, rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand, “You saved my life and managed to get shot while you and Rafe fought over the gun..”

“Oh.”

He nods, “Yeah.”

“The baby?”

“Perfectly fine.” He smiles and places a kiss on your hand, “They had to remove your spleen, but the doctor said you’ll make a full recovery.”

You weakly bring your hand up to his cheek, wiping a tear, “Don’t cry. You’re going to make me cry”

“I’m sorry, I thought I was going to lose you.” He uses his hand to wipe the other cheek, “I couldn’t lose you.”

It was JJ and Pope who came in to see you next. They stayed for a little while before you had to kick them out because JJ kept making you laugh, and it hurt. The next person that walked through your door was Rafe, carrying a bouquet of flowers.

“Can I come in?” He asked from the door.

You nodded and sat up a little, “Yeah.”

He comes in and sets the flowers on the bedside table, then stands at the end of your bed. He looks like a mess. His hair was messy; his face red and splotchy. His hands were shaking as he gripped the edge of the bed. He hadn’t had his drug fix since before you were shot and he could feel himself drifting into withdrawals.

“Y/n I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” He whispers, “All those things I said that night, I didn’t mean them. It was the drugs. I was stupid enough to try them.”

“Why did you do it, Rafe? The drugs? You always told me that you hated them..”

He nods, “I know and I did but I got in a fight with my dad. About you. Someone saw us on the mainland together and he snapped on me. Then I went to a party with Topper and it was just there. And I thought one time wouldn’t hurt. But then I got hooked.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I could have helped you.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t know, I was stupid. After my dad said all those things, I thought it would be best to push you away. I didn’t deserve you and you didn’t deserve to be with a joke like myself. Then yesterday I overheard someone say you were pregnant and I snapped. I was high when I came to talk with you at the Boneyard.”

“Yeah I know. You had the same look in your eyes that night at your house.” You looked down at your hands, “Rafe, you scared me that night. I mean you were a completely different person. You weren’t the man I fell in love with.”

He rounds the bed to come to your side, taking a seat in the chair, “I know.. but I’m going to stop. For you and for the baby.” He takes your hand in his, “Then we can be together and be a family.”

You slowly pull your hand from his and set it back on your lap, “Rafe, I don’t know if we can be a family.” You whisper, “I’m a pogue and you’re a kook. Always will be. Your family will never accept me or this baby.”

“Screw my family. I love you and that’s all that matters. I don’t need my family’s acceptance.” His eyes are filling with tears, which match with yours.

“Rafe, I don’t know if I love you anymore. After everything that has happened, you showed your true colors.”

“But it was the drugs, y/n. I’m going to stop, I’m going to get help for you and for the baby. That wasn’t me.” His bottom lip trembles, “Please, I need you.”

It seemed like you had a big decision to make. How would you choose between the two?

John B had been your best friends for years. He’d been there for you when a stupid boy broke your heart. He’d taken care of you anytime you had one too many one night at a party, He opened his home to you whenever you needed a place to stay. He was available any time of the day, ready to talk if you needed it. If you called him crying about a bad date with a guy, he’d “I’ll be right there.” And then he’d show up at your house, your favorite candy in his hand and would hold you for hours or listen to you talk. He talked about you all the time to Pope and JJ, but he never let on who it was. They never knew who he was in love with until that night you were shot that you were his mystery girl. You were his everything and he was your person.

But Rafe Cameron. He had been just another guy you fell into bed with. He was the asshole everyone warned you about. However, that’s not what you saw in him, you saw someone different. He would open doors for you. He held your hand whenever he could and would give you a kiss whenever the moment allowed. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you. He carried you on these dates every Saturday, never missing a beat. He treated you like a princess. He made you laugh, more than anyone ever had. He was a softy around you, not the hard ass everyone else saw. He made you feel beautiful. He didn’t make you feel you were different than him. He called you every night before he went to bed to tell you about his day and he’d listen to your rants to the late hour of the night. You didn’t know this, but even around his kook friends, he defended your honor. He never let them talk bad about you. Rafe Cameron was your first real love.

How could you choose between your first real love or your best friend?

It had been 2 weeks since you had been shot. You had decided it would be best to recover at your own home instead of at John B’s. You needed time to think about your decision and being at your home could give you that. Both boys came by your house every day to check on you.

John B showed up one morning a basket in his hands. It was filled with your favorite candy, salty snacks, bubble bath and your favorite scented candles.

“What is all this?” You ask, smiling. You sit up in your bed and pause the show you’d been watching.

He gives a small shrug and walks over, “A little care basket from me and the pogues.” He gently sets it in front of you, “Kie helped me pick out the bubble bath and candles.”

“John B you didn’t have to do all this.”

He takes a seat on the edge of the bed in front of you, “Well, you did kind of take a bullet for me. I’m pretty sure a basket wouldn’t make up for that, but it’s a start.” He chuckles.

“Well, thank you. I really appreciate it.”

He nods, “anything for you.”

A quiet silence fell upon the two of you and he cleared his throat, standing, “Well, I guess I’ll go and let you rest.”

You grab his hand as he stands, “No, stay? Please?”

“You sure?”

You nod and pull the covers back beside you. He then slips off his shoes before climbing in bed next to you. As he gets comfortable you slip under his arm and lay your head on his chest, getting comfortable yourself. This wasn’t anything new for the two of you, however, after the spoken feelings, there was a difference.

Your recent cravings ended up being cheez its and pickles and you were currently munching on some, Rafe sitting next to you in the bed. The two of you had just put in a movie.

Rafe scrunched his nose up as he watched you eat the cheez its and pickles, alternating between the two with each bite.

“What?” You ask, popping a cheez it in your mouth.

“I just don’t see how that tastes good.” He chuckles.

“It’s like the best thing every.”

He shakes his head at you, “You’re adorable..”

You blush, “You won’t think I’m adorable when my hormones decide to change gears on you and I’m pissed because you put your shoe in the wrong place in the closet.”

He gives a small shrug, “I’m prepared for it.”

“We’ll see about that, Mr. Cameron.” The two of you went back to watching the movie, but not a few minutes later, Rafe spoke up.

“I talked with my family last night and told them about you and the baby.”

You quickly paused the movie, “Okay… how did that go?”

“Well, they were pissed at me at first, but after they calmed down, my dad and Rose agreed you could move to Tanneyhill, live in the apartment over the garage.” He smiles, taking your hand in his, “We can move into the apartment… and be a family.”

“Rafe, that all sounds amazing..”

“I can sense a but in that.” He frowns.

“But I don’t know about us yet.”

“I’ve come over every day to check on you… I’ve brought you flowers and whatever you were craving.” He looks at you in disbelief, “I’ve sat here for hours and watched movies with you. And I’ve been clean since the night you got shot.”

“I know and you’ve been so amazing,” You take your hands in his, “and I’m so proud of you, but first of all, I’ve never formally met your family and they’re just offering to house me? For how long, until the baby comes and then we’re kicked to the curb? It just sounds too good to be true. Plus, you broke my heart that night, Rafe. You were an asshole and you said some hurtful things.”

“You don’t know about us because of John B, isn’t it? You’re in love with John B?” He quickly got off the bed, “I can’t believe this.”

You winced as you sat up on the edge of the bed, “Rafe I never said I was in love with John B! John B has nothing to do with this.”

“I can give you so much more than him, y/n. I have money, I can provide for us. John B can’t even keep himself afloat! He barely scraps by! And that’s MY baby you’re carrying.”

“Yeah but I don’t want money, Rafe! I want love and support, money or not. If you really knew me, you’d know that! Plus, it doesn’t matter who’s baby it is. It is who’s there for me and the baby that matters. Just because I’m carrying your baby doesn’t mean I have to be with you.”

“I can give you the world, y/n. At the tip of a hat, we can have anything we’re going to need. You and the baby will have anything you need.” He crouches in front of you, “You wouldn’t have to work, you can stay home with the baby. We would never have to worry.”

“Rafe, you aren’t listening to me.. I don’t want money. I don’t care if you have money coming out of your ass, I don’t want it! I want you to show me this is what YOU want. That you won’t leave me high and dry when things get bad or you decide you don’t want to be held back because you have me and a baby to think about. I have a future to think about. A future that will also have an effect on the child I’m carrying.”

He stands and runs his hands through his hair, “Okay. Okay…” He looks at you, “I will show you that I’m ready for this. That I’m ready for the responsibility of taking care of you and our baby.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you watch him take one knee in front of you, his hands taking a hold of yours, “Marry me.”

*******************************************************************************************

Part 4

A/N: AHHHHH Our very own Rafe Cameron has dropped to one knee and asked her to marry him. What will she do?? Who will she pick??

Please leave a comment or message me who you think she should pick!! I’m seriously stuck on which boy to choose so I may let you guys decide.

Obx taglist: @emmalvei-blog , @tregua-oca , @weirdbiwitch , @losers-club6 , @treestarrrrrrrr , @omgwhattheeven , @normatural , @lreincarnationl , @laurenron , @junkiemuppettxx , @beth-winchester21 , @divcrdown , @timotaychalabae , @moose-squirrel-asstiel , @tangledinsparkles , @prejudic3 , @fratboystark , @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch , @turtlee-says-rawr

Won’t let me tag: @lanarichards5

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thecassadilla · 4 years ago

Text

Change of Pace - Chapter 3

Pairing: Kristanna

Chapter 3 on AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Word Count: 3,481

Summary: With her sister’s blessing, Anna takes a step back from her royal duties and finds herself working for a ski resort nestled in the mountains. A chance encounter with the resort’s maintenance technician leads them down an unexpected path, as they must work together to plan the resort’s annual ball - and maybe fall in love in the process.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! Happy December! I can’t believe it’s already December - like, I don’t know about the rest of you guys, but this has simultaneously been the fastest and slowest year of my entire life lol. Anyway, here’s the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it!!!

“I’m sorry...what? Are you kidding?...Okay, we’ll be right down,” Holly said, slamming the receiver down and standing up. “Come on, Anna, we have to go.”

“Wait, what happened? Where are we going?”

“We have to go to the ballroom,” Holly explained frantically. “Right now.”

Anna slid her chair back and stood up from her desk. “Did something happen?”

“Come on, we have to go.”

“Can you please tell me what happened?”

“There’s some kind of an emergency, Bonnie didn’t go into detail but she said we have to talk to the maintenance guys because we may not be able to have the ball here.”

“What?”

Holly waved her hands dismissively. “I don’t know, we have to go.”

The two women ran out of the office and into the elevator, all the while Anna wondered what possibly could’ve happened that would have derailed their plans so far in advance. The party wasn’t for another three months, so she was trying to remain hopeful that whatever had happened could be rectified by then. Just as they reached the first floor and the doors slid open, Holly grabbed Anna by the wrist and began to pull her in the direction of the ballroom.

“Is this really necessary?” Anna asked, trying to pull back slightly.

“Come on!” Holly answered frantically, tightening her grip and pulling harder.

“I don’t really have a choice!”

They made it past the lobby and to the back area of the hotel where the ballroom was situated with only minimal staring; Anna imagined that two of them had to be quite funny to look at, especially considering that Holly was a lot shorter than her and had still managed to drag her across the length of the hotel.

When they finally reached the end of the hall, they were met by a tall, blond man staring at them with brooding eyes. Her first impression was that he was incredibly handsome and strong-looking, but she quickly made note of the fact that he seemed quite angry, as if he was having the worst day of his life. It did nothing to soothe her anxiety, and instead increased it tenfold.

“What’s going on?” Holly asked breathlessly, finally dropping Anna’s wrist.

“Pipe burst in the ceiling,” he answered, irritatedly. “The ceiling is destroyed, the floors are destroyed, the tables and chairs are ruined.”

“How soon can it be fixed?”

“With damage like this? A couple of months, at the very least.”

“We’re supposed to be having a party here in less than three months. Will it be fixed by then?”

He scoffed before shaking his head. “Not a chance in hell.”

“Do you mind if I take a look?”

He shrugged. “Do I look like I care?”

Holly walked over to the entrance to the ballroom, opened one of the doors, and peered inside. In the meantime, stared at the stranger in front of her while he was keeping his eyes rolled towards the ceiling; his eyebrows were tightly drawn together, his lips were pulled downwards in a scowl that would not budge, and his nostrils were flared as he breathed heavily. Despite his agitated demeanor, he was quite attractive, and she thought back to the conversation she’d had with Holly about dating just that morning - maybe she had been looking in all the wrong places. And then he caught her looking at him and she quickly diverted her eyes to her feet, feeling her ears burn with shame.

“Okay, that’s bad. Like, really bad,” Holly announced upon returning.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Anna groaned.

“I wish I was kidding.”

“First, Jenny quits and now this?! What am I supposed to do?”

Holly took a deep breath before placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Anna. There are plenty of other venues in the area - not here in Valley, but within a few miles. You’ll have to call around, but we can’t think of this as a death sentence.”

She shook her head, trying to maintain her composure and avoid a breakdown. “This is terrible. No, it’s worse than terrible - it’s a literal nightmare.”

Holly nodded sympathetically. “I know. I’m sorry. Look, I’m going to see if Bonnie is in her office and then I’ll go through Jenny’s paperwork and see if she had any connections to catering halls nearby. We’ll have better luck if we start calling around right away.”

“Thanks,” Anna said, though as soon as the other woman was out of earshot, she turned back to the man. “Are you certain that the repairs will take that long?”

“Do you want to see the damage for yourself?” he offered. “The entire room has to be gutted. It’s not an easy fix.”

She nodded, and he motioned to the door. She peaked inside and her jaw nearly hit the floor; the room was in shambles, far worse than she could have imagined. “One pipe caused this much destruction?”

“Unfortunately.”

“This is unbelievable.” She raised her hands to cover her mouth. “Oh my god, what am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t…I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she sighed. “At least I have some time to find a venue. Thanks for letting us know.”

He fidgeted in place for a moment, and just as she started to turn away and head back up to the office, he called out to her. “What if I told you that I know a place?”

“You do?”

He motioned for her to follow him, and he led her over to the textured map on the wall of the lobby, before pointing to a building that was located in the mountains. “Right there.”

She squinted. “What is that? Where is that?”

“It’s a huge, empty building that was supposed to be a restaurant, but they scrapped the idea when they expanded the resort. You can take the C Ski Lift up there and check it out for yourself.”

“There’s a ski lift that leads to an empty building?”

“It doesn’t lead directly there,” he explained. “It’s not a far walk from the hot chocolate bar, which is the first stop.”

“I’ve never been up there,” she admitted. “I don’t take the ski lifts. I don’t even ski.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You work at a ski resort and you don’t ski?”

“I’m not proud of it. If it’s not too much to ask, would you mind taking me up there? I can’t pitch it to Bonnie unless I know what I’m working with.”

“...I don’t take people places.”

“Please,” she begged. “I’ve never been up there and I really don’t know where I’m going.”

“Fine,” he reluctantly agreed. “I guess I can do that.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much, you may have just saved me.”

“No problem. Let me just go tell my boss that I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, watching as entered the decimated ballroom. She rocked back and forth from her heels to the tips of her toes and rolled her shoulders back in an attempt to relieve some of the tension that built up while she was freaking out. In no time, he emerged.

“Let’s go,” he said, as he strode past her.

She raced to catch up to him. “I don’t believe I caught your name.”

He glanced over at her for a moment before answering. “Kristoff.”

“I’m Anna,” she smiled, offering him her hand.

He paused to shake it before pulling his hand away and continuing. “So, uh, how’d you get roped into this? You said someone quit?”

“My boss did - it was very unexpected. I was her assistant and now I’m...her.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? You got a promotion.”

“A promotion I did not want, or ask for. A promotion that is requiring me to finish planning a huge party with not much time to spare - something that I’ve never done before, by the way. And to top it all off, the one easy part of my job got destroyed today when a pipe burst.”

As soon as the automatic doors opened and the blustery wind hit her, she crossed her bare arms over her chest to preserve any warmth she could. It probably wasn’t the best idea to agree to an outdoor excursion without a coat or any other winter attire.

“Weren’t you around the last time your boss planned this party?” he asked, as they got into the queue for the C Ski Lift. There was no line, so when the next gondola approached, they climbed in and the doors closed around them. “Like, can’t you just go off of memory and try to replicate everything from last year?”

She sat down before shaking her head. “I just started working here in September. This will be the first and last time I’m responsible for something like this.”

“Last?”

“Yeah, I’m only here until the season ends and then I’m going home.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Home?”

“I’m not from here,” she explained. “I’m here temporarily for work.”

“Oh, sorry, most people who work here are from this area and I just assumed.”

“Are you?”

He faltered for a moment before answering. “Yeah, I live in town. I’ve worked here for a few years and I’ll probably work here until the day I die.”

“That’s depressing.”

“Not everyone can afford to travel around and work temporary jobs,” he pointed out.

She grimaced. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. If it’s any consolation, I was born into, um...my family’s business, so I don’t have much of a choice in terms of my career, either.”

“Our stop is coming up,” he said, changing the subject and saving her from any further embarrassment.

The car pulled into the station, and when the doors opened they stepped onto the platform.

“That’s the hot chocolate bar?” she asked, pointing to the small building next to the ski lift station.

“Yup,” he answered. “We just have to take this path and we’ll be there.”

All she could see to the left of her was snow. Lots and lots of snow. “I don’t see a path.”

“It’s buried.” And without further hesitation, he started along the hidden path, burying them deep in the snow and then pulling his legs straight up with each step.

“You would think they would shovel this every once in a while,” she remarked with a scoff, taking the bottom of her midi dress in her hands and stepping into the two foot deep pile. With each step she took, the cold snow fell onto the tops of her exposed feet and she sorely wished that she’d managed to put her snow boots on before she left the office. She was only partially grateful that she’d chosen to wear a dress today. Though the snow was stinging her legs, it was better than the alternative - wearing cold, damp pants until her heater managed to dry them.

He glared at her. “First of all, nobody ever comes this way so the path doesn’t have to be cleared. And second, you’re talking to one of the guys who would be responsible for shoveling if it was necessary for this path to be cleared.”

“Today is really not my day,” she groaned, feeling her cheeks heat up. “I am so sorry.”

“Let’s just make this fast, okay? I have to get back to work.”

Luckily, the building wasn’t very far from the station, and they were there in no time. Her first impression was that the building was large and could seemingly accommodate the amount of guests that were invited. There was an entire wall that was made of paneled glass, which provided an excellent view of the ski resort down below, the snow covered trees that surrounded the area, and even the sky. The interior was much more modern than the ballroom, with hardwood floors as opposed to carpet, elegant chandeliers dangling from the high ceiling, wall sconces, and a neutral color scheme.

“Wow, it’s so nice! I love all of the windows,” she said excitedly, as she peered through the glass. “And it’s huge inside. There will definitely be enough room for the guests and a dance floor, and tables and chairs. And you said that it was supposed to be a restaurant, so there must be a kitchen where the caterers could set up and store the food. I actually think this may work.”

“Told you.”

“You’re a lifesaver! I just need to figure out a way to get all the equipment up here and then I think I’ll be all set.”

“There’s a road right over there.” He pointed to the large clearing between two wooded areas. “It hasn’t been plowed, but if Bonnie is willing to let you have your party here, it’ll get done. The path will be shoveled, too, so people can take the ski lift up from the hotel and walk over.”

“Seriously, you’re the best!”

Before he could respond, she’d managed to pull him into a hug, squeezing his waist tightly. He awkwardly patted her on the back until she pulled away.

“Sorry, I probably should’ve asked if it was okay to hug you.” She sheepishly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m just so thankful that you showed me this place.”

He cleared his throat, obviously a bit flustered from the sudden contact. “It’s fine.”

“We should probably head back now,” she said. “You said you have to get back to work, and I’d like to run this by Bonnie.”

“Good idea.”

By the time they got back to the ski lift station, her teeth were chattering and she was shaking like a leaf. She couldn’t wait to get back to the resort and warm up, deciding then and there that she’d never venture out into the cold without the proper attire ever again. As soon as they were seated in the gondola, she bent down to rub her reddened legs with her hands, hoping the friction would heat them up faster.

“You should probably wear snow pants and boots.”

“To be fair, I work in an office,” Anna rebuked, glancing up at him. He quickly diverted his eyes away, as if he’d been staring at her. “I wasn’t expecting to come outside and walk through the snow.”

“Touché.”

“At least I can go back upstairs and sit next to a space heater for the rest of the day.”

“Be careful with those things, they catch fire easily.”

“I wish I could go without it, but I’m not keen on numb toes,” she laughed. “But I do remember to turn it off and unplug it before I leave for the day.”

“Good, the last thing we need is another disaster.”

“Tell me about it. It’s been quite an eventful day.”

“I’d describe it as hellish, personally,” he remarked. “I had a bad feeling about today. I thought about calling out.”

“Really? That’s so interesting,” she mused. “I had a great feeling about today.”

“Well, you were given a promotion and I was given a huge mess to clean up.”

“I didn’t want the promotion,” she reminded him. “If it makes you feel any better about today, you’re basically a hero in my eyes. You literally saved the day.”

He offered her a lopsided smile. “How about you hold off on the gratitude until Bonnie approves this as the new location?”

“You don’t have to be so humble.”

“It’s really not a big deal,” he said with a shrug, standing up just as their gondola reached the station.

They stepped onto the platform and speed-walked toward the entrance of the hotel in a silent attempt to escape the blustery cold.

“Thank you again,” Anna said, once they’d reached the lobby.

“You’re welcome. And I believe the person you’re looking for is right over there.” He pointed to the front desk, where Bonnie was engrossed in conversation with another employee.

“We have to go tell her. Come on,” Anna insisted, motioning for him to follow, which he did. “Excuse me, Bonnie?”

The tall woman spun around at the sound of her name and smiled. “What can I do for you, Anna?”

“I may have found a location for the ball,” Anna explained. “I wanted to talk to you about it.”

Bonnie nodded excitedly. “Go on.”

“What do you think of the empty building near the hot chocolate bar? It’s big so it should accommodate the amount of guests on our list, there will be enough room for a dance floor and a buffet, and it’s on property.”

“What a wonderful idea!” Bonnie gushed, clapped her hands together. “How did you come up with that?”

“It was all Kristoff’s idea,” Anna insisted, motioning to him. “I really can’t take any credit.”

“Really?” she raised an eyebrow, looking over at him. “Well, I think I found your new assistant, then.”

Kristoff’s face fell. “Excuse me?”

“You’re going to help Anna finish planning the party. We won’t have enough time to hire a new assistant event planner, and since you came up with the idea to use that building as the venue, then you can assist with the rest of the planning.”

“No, no, no,” he interjected. “I am not a party planner. I’m a maintenance technician, and that ballroom is currently in shambles. I have plenty of other things that I’m supposed to be doing.”

“Relax, it’s only temporary. As soon as the season is over, you will return to your regular position.”

“But -”

She raised a single finger and he stopped talking. “No buts. Starting on Monday, you will report to the event office upstairs and you will assist Anna, or you will be looking for employment elsewhere.”

Bonnie’s word was final, and as she walked away from the two of them, Anna finally gained the courage to look at Kristoff’s face - which was clearly a mistake, because if looks could k*ll, she’d surely be d*ad.

And once again, she found herself apologizing to him. “I’m so sorry, Kristoff, I had no idea that she was going to do that.”

“Why did you tell her that I was involved?”

“Because you deserve the credit! I didn’t even know that that building existed until you told me about it.”

“You shouldn’t have said anything,” he snapped.

“You don’t even have to help me,” she insisted, trying to placate him. “You can sit in the office for the next couple of months and not do anything, and I won’t tell her, I swear. Kind of like a paid vacation - just come to the office and play on your phone.”

“And what do you plan on telling Bonnie when she comes in and sees that I’m not doing anything?”

“I don’t know! I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“I guess I should start looking for a new job,” he sneered, before marching away.

She felt herself physically deflate; she had made mistakes before, but she’d never managed to make someone that upset. It wasn’t even technically her fault, it was Bonnie’s fault but she still felt horrible. She stood in place for a moment before slinking over to the elevator and ascending to the third floor.

“Where’ve you been?” Holly asked, as soon as she re-entered the office.

“I found a new venue for the party,” she answered, in a low voice.

“How’d you manage to do that?”

“That maintenance guy knew a place,” she explained. “Right here on property, not too far from the last stop on the C Ski Lift.”

“Ooh, the maintenance guy! He was really cute! Did you get his number?”

“No, he hates my guts.”

Holly’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? Why?”

“I think I ruined his life.”

“Anna, what are you talking about?”

“I thought that he deserved recognition for finding a new venue for us, so I mentioned it to Bonnie. Now she’s forcing him to step away from his maintenance job and be my assistant for the rest of the season.”

“Why would she do that?”

Anna shrugged half-heartedly. “I don’t know, but he’s not happy about it and I don’t blame him.”

“You were doing the right thing, though. He can’t hold that against you. It’s literally not your fault.”

“I don’t know, Holly, he seemed very upset with me.”

“You’re the sweetest person on the planet. I guarantee that he won’t be able to stay mad at you for very long.”

“I guess we’ll see what happens on Monday.”

With a resigned sigh, she retreated to her desk and buried her face in her hands. How the day had gone from bad to worse in the blink of an eye? She wasn’t sure, but her snap judgment when she saw Kristoff in the lobby and assumed he was enduring the worst day of his life was correct - if only she had assumed that this would be her worst day ever, too.

#kristanna #kristanna fanfic #anna #kristoff bjorgman #frozen #frozen fic #my writing

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